The sun over Albert Park on Friday morning was a blinding, relentless disc of heat. By 9:00 AM, the temperature on the asphalt was already climbing toward forty degrees Celsius.
Leo Kaito walked beside Anya Petrova through the paddock, his black-and-purple team kit feeling heavy against his skin. The air was thick with the smell of expensive coffee, sunscreen, and the sharp, acidic tang of tire cleaner.
The paddock was a hive of controlled panic. Mechanics pushed trolleys of tires stacked four high; engineers huddled over tablets in the back of hospitality units, and the constant hum of generators provided a low-frequency soundtrack to the morning.
Leo felt the "Danger Sense" in his mind flickering like a candle in a breeze. It wasn't flagging a crash yet, but it was picking up the sheer density of human ambition and fear surrounding him.
