Lap 19 of 21. Only three laps remained for Alex Sun.
He was running P4, with only Daruvala ahead. The podium was just one step away.
Determination burned in Alex Sun's eyes. Even though his charge had begun to slow, he stayed glued to Daruvala's gearbox, refusing to let even the smallest opportunity slip by. Only one thought remained in his mind: clear this final hurdle and stand on the podium.
The race engineer's voice came through the TR, repeating to Daruvala, "Gap is 2.3 seconds. Keep the pace. Defend the position!"
But the words did nothing. Tension had already swallowed him whole.
He stared at the 35% tyre wear reading on his dash, panic rising in his chest. Grip was fading fast. The car was getting harder and harder to control.
This is the closest I've ever been to a second podium. I can't let it slip away.
From Alex Sun's perspective, he could clearly feel that in this race, the "Guardian of the Machine" buff was practically indistinguishable from being fully burned out.
He had driven aggressively from start to finish, diving into one extreme late-braking move after another, pushing to the absolute limit at every Apex. And yet, the tyre wear on his steering wheel display remained steady at 32%, nearly 10% lower than the rest of the field. It was nothing short of miraculous.
Corner after corner, Alex Sun clawed forward. His fingers gripped the Steering wheel tightly, his eyes calm and razor-sharp, seizing every tiny chance to compress the gap.
Finally, before Turn 3 on Lap 20, he closed to within one second of Daruvala—right into attack range.
He didn't lunge immediately. Instead, he kept up relentless pressure through every subsequent corner, shadowing him with precision, subtly disrupting Daruvala's rhythm bit by bit.
Up ahead, Daruvala's movements grew distorted, his lines increasingly messy. Alex Sun knew it still wasn't enough. He was waiting for something decisive—a flawless opening that would end it in one strike.
The patience paid off.
At the end of Sector 2, just before Turn 16, Daruvala made a massive error. His inside line was completely exposed, a fatal gap laid bare.
Alex Sun didn't hesitate for a second.
He dived to the inside, throttle and brake modulation perfectly balanced beneath his feet. The movement flowed seamlessly, clean and decisive. In one smooth sequence, he completed the overtake and locked down P3—into the podium positions at last.
Almost the moment the move was done, Mark's voice came through the TR. He couldn't hide the excitement, though his tone remained controlled.
"Beautiful! Alex Sun! Perfect entry! Hold your line. Last lap now—just stay steady. The team believes in you!"
In the pit bay, Rebecca Lin stared at the monitor, eyes fixed on Alex Sun's car. She was caught between anticipation and worry, completely drawn in by his driving.
The instant the overtake was completed, the tension snapped.
Her eyes reddened as she clutched the hem of her clothes and said softly but firmly, "So cool… I knew you could do it. Stay steady. You'll keep that podium."
Daruvala, now behind, burned with frustration. He couldn't accept losing the podium like this.
Lap 21. The final lap.
The moment they entered the DRS zone on the main straight, Daruvala seized his chance. DRS open. He tucked tightly into Alex Sun's slipstream, engine screaming as he accelerated hard, trying to use both DRS and the tow to retake the position.
The tension spiked instantly.
Alex Sun kept his car firmly to the right side of the track. He had already calculated everything. With Daruvala's current tyre condition and his level of car control, there was no way he could pull off an extreme late-braking move without locking up. Forcing it would only lead to chaos.
But Daruvala wasn't ready to give up.
Approaching the finish line, he suddenly darted left, gambling everything on one desperate late-braking attempt to snatch the place back.
Just as Alex Sun had predicted, the moment Daruvala hit the brakes, the front tyres locked. A piercing screech tore through the air. Thick white smoke billowed upward as the car lost control and shot straight toward the run-off area.
Alex Sun wasn't surprised in the slightest.
Even if Daruvala hadn't tried the reckless late brake, he was prepared. He executed a cross-line defense, braking early and committing to a "slow in, fast out" rhythm to secure the optimal line.
With a subtle turn of his fingertips on the Steering wheel, the car sliced into the crossing line like an arrow released from a bow. His front wing skimmed past Daruvala's rear with surgical precision. The red-and-white machine cut cleanly through the white smoke rising from the locked left front tyre—sharp, decisive, utterly confident.
The smoke blurred the track ahead, but it didn't shake his judgment.
He made minute adjustments on the Steering wheel, nailed the entry angle, and flowed smoothly into Turn 1. The entire sequence unfolded in one continuous motion, fluid and commanding.
Behind him, Daruvala was completely rattled. He wrestled the Steering wheel in a panic to regain control. By the time he stabilized the car and got back on the throttle, Alex Sun was already gone. The gap stretched beyond reach. There would be no counterattack.
Freed from the threat, Alex Sun settled into a controlled rhythm. With decent tyres still underneath him and precise line control, he guided the car through the remaining corners without the slightest lapse, maintaining optimal form all the way.
At the finish line, the marshal waved the iconic black-and-white checkered flag—the official signal that the F2 race had ended. The green finish lights on both sides illuminated simultaneously.
Following F2 custom, Guanyu Zhou crossed the line first, holding a steady racing line as he secured victory in Baku.
Ticktum followed shortly after, bringing the car home in second place with a composed and controlled finish.
Alex Sun, in his red-and-white car, lined up perfectly with the stripe and drove cleanly across the line, securing third place and completing the comeback.
"Mark, I want pizza!" Alex Sun laughed over the TR, fully relaxed now, steering one-handed as he waved toward the grandstands.
"Brilliant job, Alex Sun! We're proud of you—you're our hero!" Mark replied excitedly. "What flavor? I'll order it right away."
He paused, then said with a helpless laugh over the TR, "Where's Jeff? You think I've never played that game? But seriously, you drove insanely well. Rosin next to me is still shouting!"
The joking over TR hadn't even faded when the pit bay erupted in cheers.
Rebecca Lin covered her mouth as tears finally spilled over.
From the moment Alex Sun dropped to the back after the incident, through every overtake, all the way to the podium, she hadn't taken her eyes off the screen. All the anxiety and hope she'd carried dissolved into tears.
The mechanics hugged one another, shouting in celebration—for the young driver who had fought alone and created a miracle, and for the team's perseverance.
At the same time, the livestream atmosphere hit its peak.
Alex Jacques' voice roared through the broadcast as he quickly recapped the podium battle:
"First, let's look at the other two podium finishers! Ticktum started P5 and drove steadily throughout, managing his lines and tactics brilliantly. He brought the car home in P2—no win today, but still a fantastic performance!"
His tone grew even more impassioned.
Now driver, Guanyu Zhou! Starting from P2, he delivered a consistent and composed performance, using exceptional car control and precise overtaking decisions to fight his way through and cross the line first, taking victory in the first F2 sprint race in Baku and adding another highlight to motorsport!
Then he shifted the spotlight fully.
But the most shocking performance came from the other driver—Alex Sun!
"The team's lone hope started from P10, suffered an incident on the opening lap, and dropped straight to the back. To make matters worse, his teammate Piastri retired in an accident on Lap 2. The entire team's hopes instantly rested on his shoulders. From P18, he began this comeback."
Jolyon Palmer followed up, admiration clear in his voice:
"This wasn't luck. Over 21 laps, Alex Sun drove aggressively throughout, pulling off extreme late-braking moves again and again, pushing to the limit at every Apex. And what's even more remarkable is his tyre control."
"Under constant high-intensity driving, his tyre wear stabilized at just 35%, nearly 10% lower than the rest. That's the foundation of his charge."
Alex Jacques picked up again, emotion thick in his voice:
"From P18 to P3. Fifteen overtakes. Carrying the entire team alone. Under relentless pressure, across 21 laps of Baku, he fought his way out of the abyss. This third place was earned through pure skill and persistence. Absolutely deserved."
The livestream exploded.
Bullet comments flooded the screen. Gift effects filled the frame. Praise poured in for both drivers, and especially for Alex Sun:
"Gets rear-ended, spins, and still pulls off an insane save? His car control and mentality are god-tier!"
"Three laps to break the DRS train—tactics and raw pace maxed out!"
"I'm dying laughing! Mark hadn't even finished talking before Alex Sun had already crossed on the crossover line!"
"From dead last to P4—just one step from the podium!"
"Dive up the inside on Daruvala, blast through the lock-up smoke, defend it clean—straight onto the podium!"
"From a spin to P3 at the flag. That's an F2 classic!"
Alex Sun slowly parked in the dedicated P3 position beneath the podium. He shut down the car and climbed out of the monocoque, relief and quiet anticipation in his eyes.
Carrying the team's hopes alone, breaking free from P18, this third-place finish was the one he had longed for most since he started racing.
It was more than a result.
It was the hottest medal of his career so far—the clearest proof of everything he had fought for on his own.
...
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