Formula 1: The GOAT

“He is just a kid. He is just a kid. He is just a kid…”

Fatih repeated the mantra in his head, his knuckles white as he gripped the steering wheel. He stared at Selçuk’s kart, which had come to a stop just meters away, the two of them tangled in a mess of broken parts and shattered hopes.

Although his [Invictus] ability granted him extreme mental endurance against pressure, it was not designed to suppress pure, unadulterated anger. The ability’s description was clear: it was born from suffering to endure pressure, not to quell rage. And he was feeling it now, a hot, simmering fury. This was the third time they had collided, and each time, it had heavily impacted him and his championship prospects. He had to keep reminding himself that he was an adult in a child’s body to stop himself from jumping out of the kart and starting a physical fight.

For Fatih, winning a race came with a cascade of benefits. There were the championship points, the prize money from both the academy and his new sponsor—Selçuk’s own father—and the camera his mother had promised him. But most importantly, he had been on the verge of activating another massive SP multiplier, one that would have allowed him to upgrade another one of his core abilities. The loss of that opportunity was the main source of his anger, so potent that he had to repeat those words over and over again just to calm himself down.

“Oh, what the heck?” he muttered in disbelief as he saw Selçuk jump from his kart and try to charge at him, only to be intercepted by a quick-thinking marshal. The sight caused the anger he was already struggling to control to flare up again. He squeezed the steering wheel, venting his frustration through the inanimate object, lest he do something that would earn him additional penalties when he was not at fault.

“Are you alright?” Burak’s voice cut through the commotion. He had finally reached Fatih, his rain overalls dripping, and placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

“I’m fine, but I’m angry,” Fatih said, his voice tight as he opened his visor. Burak could see the fury burning in his eyes. “I want to go home.”

“Understood,” Burak said, not trying to argue. This was the final session of the weekend; there was nothing more to be done. “But first, let’s go to the academy tent and get you changed before your family picks you up.” He knew Fatih wouldn’t be interested in watching someone else celebrate a win that he had been on the verge of clinching just a few corners ago.

Fatih just nodded, closing his visor once again against the still-falling rain. He stood up from the kart, and they both started walking towards the academy tent. He wondered how awkward the situation was going to be, since both drivers involved in the crash were from the same academy and used the same tent.

Thankfully, that confrontation did not happen. Selçuk and his coach were not in the tent when they arrived, and they still hadn’t returned by the time Fatih had changed his clothes and was picked up by his family.

…….

“He looks very tired and angry,” Güldane said, looking back from the front seat of the bus to find Fatih seemingly asleep. They had already gathered their belongings on the way to the track that morning, allowing them to head straight to the bus station the moment the race ended.

“I would be too if the same thing happened to me twice,” Rümeysa replied, her voice laced with frustration. “Even I am angry.” She was not at all satisfied with how things were going and was already contemplating whether she needed to have the academy formally intervene. The collisions were becoming more frequent and more severe.

While they discussed the situation, Fatih was not asleep. He was looking at a screen that was giving him the details of his race weekend and his mission status.

[RACE WEEKEND DEBRIEF COMPLETE]

[SEASONAL MISSION: THE FIRST CROWN (WEEKEND 3)]

STATUS: COMPLETE

Milestone 1 (Participation): +10 SP

Milestone 2 (Pole Position): +10 SP

Milestone 3 (Fastest Lap): +5 SP

Milestone 4 (Race Finish – 0 pts): +0 SP

Milestone 5 (Driver of the Weekend): NOT ACHIEVED

Additional Rewards (Per-Action):

Overtake: 49 overtakes = +49 SP

Brilliant Overtake: 8 overtakes = +40 SP

Defense: 10 successful defenses = +10 SP

Brilliant Defense: 2 successful defenses = +10 SP

Perfect Weekend Bonus: NOT ACHIEVED

[“THE FIRST CROWN” SUBTOTAL: +134 SP]

[RECOVERY MISSION]

STATUS: FAILED

PUNISHMENT ACTIVATED: [INVICTUS] will be downgraded (Ultimate → Genius) for the next championship round.

[FINAL CALCULATION]

Base Weekend Earnings: 134 SP

Recovery Drive Multiplier: Not Activated

TOTAL SP GAINED: +134 SP

[Current System Points: 723 → 857 SP]

’What has passed has passed, so there is no need to keep lamenting on it,’ Fatih thought, his mind already processing the consequences. ’But it looks like I have lost the championship lead and fallen to P3. Jackson is now back in the lead. It seems playing the long and consistent game turned out well for him.’

“Consistency is what is most important,” Apollo’s voice echoed in his mind. “That is something you need to learn and strive for.”

“What do you mean by that?” Fatih shot back, defending himself. “I’m pretty sure I have done nothing to warrant that comment. I’m on the receiving end of these incidents, at least that’s what I think.”

“You need to keep in mind the type of person you are racing against and their driving style,” Apollo replied with the calmness of a teacher. “Being ’in the right’ might be good, but it doesn’t mean much when you are taken out of the race.”

“But wouldn’t pulling back just because he is aggressive make him realize that he can make those moves and be sure that I will yield the position to him to avoid crashing?” Fatih argued, his mind immediately jumping to a historical parallel. “Isn’t that what happened between Lewis and Verstappen in the 2021 season, before Lewis decided to stand his ground? I’m of the belief that you have to make an example on the first try, so that neither they nor any other driver has the gall to even think of trying to attempt that on you, since it will be a guaranteed DNF for both of you.”

“Although that is true, you have to keep in mind that this is a six-race championship,” Apollo countered, reminding him of the bigger picture. “You going pointless on even one weekend means that your closest contenders will be earning points, just as Jackson is now in the lead by eleven points. If he continues finishing in the top three until the final race, he will still be a potential champion, even if you continue crashing out with Selçuk. Your way of thinking is not wrong, but at the moment, you are not in a position to do that, as the championship is very short. I will teach you how to still fight with aggressive drivers while keeping your position and minimizing the chances of you, or both of you, being taken out of the race.”

“Thank you for that,” Fatih said, appreciating the offer of new knowledge. “Also, I have a question. What was that that happened when I didn’t even realize I had driven eight laps? You even sounded surprised by it.”

“Ooh, that,” Apollo said, a chuckle in his voice. “That is something many racers never experience in their entire lives, no matter how hard they try. So, you can imagine how surprised I was when I realized you had experienced it in your first year of driving, and in karts, nonetheless.”

“It has many names,” Apollo explained, his tone shifting to one of reverence. “Some call it a ’flow state,’ ’in the zone,’ ’tunnel vision,’ ’Driving Zen,’ or the ’7000 RPM moment.’ It’s a state where all unnecessary information is discarded, and all of your inputs on the car are unconscious, done by pure instinct. The car feels like an extension of your body, a state of total peak performance where you become one with the machine, where it feels like the car is driving itself through you.” He caught himself, realizing he was going on a long, rambling session about the feeling, as if he were one of those racing drivers himself.

“It is a high that, once you experience it, you will keep chasing for the rest of your life,” he added, looking at Fatih with a mixture of awe and concern for how early he had experienced it.

“Mh…” Fatih said, trying to remember the feeling. Slowly but surely, it came back to him. He remembered his inputs, and to say they felt near-perfect would be an understatement. He remembered churning out laps that were far faster than what should have been possible for slicks in the wet, all while keeping his kart on the track as the rain continued to fall, instinctively avoiding any hint of aquaplaning.

“Don’t try to recreate it,” Apollo warned, his voice serious. “It is something that happens naturally and cannot be controlled. You must not try to chase it, or you will ruin yourself like an addict. Let it come to you naturally, and when it does, enjoy it.”

“I will keep that in mind,” Fatih said, nodding to himself.