Brisbane – The Grand Stage
The city shimmered in golden hues beneath the blazing Australian sun. From the glittering harbor to the speedway nestled in the outskirts, Brisbane pulsed with electric anticipation. It wasn't just another race.
This was the final lap of a season that had shaken the world.
The World GP Championship Finale.
The paddock buzzed with tension, every crew member double-checking telemetry systems, recalibrating sensors, and whispering behind data pads. But beneath the official chaos was another current — suspicion, secrecy, and fear.
Because now, everyone knew.
The races had been rigged.
And someone might still be pulling strings.
---
Friday – Free Practice
Sukhman adjusted the straps on his helmet as he climbed into his Vaayu GP car. The mechanics gave him a nod. Cameras swarmed, drones hovered above, fans roared his name from the stands.
But inside the cockpit, it was quiet.
His gloved fingers gripped the wheel.
> "Final run. Let's make it clean," came Rajan's voice in his ear.
> "'Clean' doesn't exist anymore," Sukhman muttered. "But yeah. Let's race."
The engine roared to life. In seconds, he was on the track, skimming turns, carving through apexes, pushing the limits of grip.
But every second, every feedback alert, every tiny flicker on his HUD… he was watching.
Looking for signs.
Signs that someone was still inside the system.
---
Elsewhere – Harinder's Network Rebuild
In a van parked three blocks away from the circuit, Harinder sat before a glowing wall of monitors. He tapped furiously at his keyboard, rerouting through three proxy networks, trying to trace the last active Mira node. In last week he has spent a lot of time learning hacking skills his siter has to offer. Now it's time to test it.
Onscreen flashed an alert:
"Telemetry SubNet – NODE X22 REACTIVATED."
They are trying again.
They are going to rig the final.
> "I see them," he said into his mic. "They've moved Mira's injection point. It's no longer routed through IRC servers. They're using a private subnetwork built through a vendor that supplies... tire sensors. Company name's AvintCore. Dummy firm. No history before last year."
> "Can we isolate it?" Raghav's voice replied.
> "I can't just isolate. I need to physically disrupt the node. It's onsite." Harinder hesitated. "I need to get into the broadcast command tower."
> "You're insane."
> "A little," Harinder replied, already packing his gear.
---
Brisbane Paddock – Return of the Ghost
As the teams prepped for qualifying rounds, a man slipped quietly through the secured layers of the pit complex. No one stopped him. He moved like he belonged.
Wearing a faded jacket with an old racing patch on the sleeve — a long-defunct logo from a team that once ruled headlines.
He walked into Harinder's path behind the energy drink sponsor's display trucks.
Harinder, distracted, almost ran into him.
> "Watch it, man—"
He stopped. The man was young — no older than 35 — with a face half-shadowed by a cap. But something about him was off. Out of time.
> "You're not watching close enough," the man said. "They're already here. Room 6B above the West Loop control station."
> "Who are you?"
The man smiled faintly. "Someone who remembers when racing was still pure."
> "You've been sending me intel?"
> "Not all of it. Just enough to keep you alive."
Harinder stared.
> "Why help me?"
> "Because I've seen what they do to people who don't play along. Because I died once too."
Harinder frowned. "Wait... died?"
> "Bruno Cazari," the man said plainly.
Harinder blinked. "That's not possible. Cazari died ten years ago. Mid-race collision in Fuji."
> "The body they found wasn't mine."
Harinder reeled. He was face to face with a legend. The youngest racer to ever win back-to-back World GP qualifiers. A driver so daring, they called him "Blitz Bruno." Gone at 24 in a fiery wreck. "Sukhman would be extremely excited to this man." He thinks.
Except not gone.
> "They tried Mira on me first," Bruno said. "It didn't work on me. Before that I rebelled. Crashed the system. Faked my death. I've been watching ever since. And you… Harinder... are the only one who ever came close to exposing it."
> "Why come back now?"
Bruno's eyes narrowed.
> "Because I want to see the empire fall. And I want to see someone win... truly."
---
Final Qualifiers – The Setup
Sukhman was in the middle of his qualifying lap when it happened.
Turn 9. The braking zone felt… off.
A lag — milliseconds long, but it mattered.
The car twitched.
He recovered, but the lap was ruined.
> "You... feel that?" he radioed.
> "Yeah," Nandini answered. "Telemetry spike. Something delayed your brake-by-wire response."
> "It's them. They're back. I can feel it."
Rajan's voice cut in. "Abort the run. Pit now. We're not going to play their game."
> "Let them have their numbers," Sukhman replied. "They've forgotten one thing."
> "What's that?"
> "I don't drive for numbers."
---
Brisbane – Night Before the Finale
Sukhman stood on the roof of the motel, looking out across the circuit. The floodlights shimmered off the tarmac like a stage set for war.
Harinder joined him, followed by Bruno.
The three of them stared in silence for a moment.
> "We got inside the loop," Harinder said. "Bruno found the control hub node. It's in a disguised server cabinet within the AvintCore pit area. We wipe that, Mira dies mid-race."
> "And they'll do everything to stop us," Bruno added.
> "So we split up," Sukhman said. "You two hit the node. I'll give you the window."
> "You're racing," Harinder said. "You can't divide your focus."
> "This is bigger than a race now."
> "You sure?" Bruno asked.
Sukhman turned, eyes ablaze.
> "I'd rather lose with honor than win like their puppet."
---
Race Day
Fans flooded the stands. Drones whirred. Helicopters broadcasted the moment live to billions. Commentators spoke with a tension they couldn't conceal.
> "It's all down to this. Sukhman Singh leads the standings. But Erik Holtz, Callum Graves and Jia Tan aren't far behind."
> "And after the leak… this isn't just about the trophy anymore."
---
Lap 1–10: The Chess Game
The race opened fast. Sukhman held third, conserving tires. Erik led early, while Jia harried from behind.
Bruno and Harinder, disguised in stolen uniforms, slipped into the restricted zones.
> "There," Bruno pointed. "Blue cabinet. Access port inside the ventilation duct."
Harinder slid into the tight space while Bruno kept watch.
> "Two minutes. I can inject the payload, but if they spot this…"
> "They won't," Bruno said. "I'll make sure of it."
He vanished into the shadows.
---
Lap 15–20: The Ghost in the Wires
On the main straight, Sukhman's car jittered.
> "They're increasing signal interference," Raghav warned. "Mira's adapting again."
> "Tell Harinder to hurry."
Inside the duct, Harinder was drenched in sweat, typing rapidly. The script uploaded in segments, bouncing through fail-safes.
One final line:
> deploy(mira.null.override.313)
Click.
He hit ENTER.
For a moment, nothing.
Then—
Across the data lines, Mira's systems crashed. Live feedback rerouted. All remote telemetry loops froze.
---
Lap 21–30: The Raw Race
Suddenly, it was just man and machine again.
Sukhman felt it first.
The weight lifted. The brakes responsive. The car truly his.
> "They're out," Rajan confirmed. "You're free, Sukhman."
> "Then let's race."
He pushed.
Every turn tighter. Every exit cleaner. Jia and Erik stayed close. This was pure skill now. Every fan watching knew — this was what racing was meant to be.
---
Lap 35 – The Climax
Bruno watched from the shadows as IRC security flooded the AvintCore compound. But he was already gone, disappearing through tunnels below the west loop.
His voice buzzed through Harinder's earpiece.
> "I'm not coming back. They'll hunt me again. But thanks for giving me one more lap."
> "Bruno—"
> "Take care of the sport. Don't let it go dark again."
Then silence.
---
Final Lap – The Last Breath
Three drivers. One circuit. One crown.
Sukhman, Erik, Jia.
Into the final sector, Erik dove late into Turn 12. They were wheel to wheel.
Sukhman held his nerve.
> "You've come this far," Nandini said in his ear. "Finish it."
He moved right.
Inside line.
Cut across Erik.
Sparks flew.
They crossed the line in a blur.
The stadium erupted.
Sukhman's name flashed across the world.
---
Brisbane Podium – A Different Kind of Victory
There was no champagne.
Just silence.
And applause.
Genuine. Earned.
Sukhman stood on the top step.
Tears in his eyes.
Harinder watched from the crowd, fading into anonymity once more.
---
Epilogue – Global Statement
The IRC issued a formal apology.
Dozens were arrested.
AvintCore was dismantled.
Project Mira's servers were seized.
But what mattered most came from Charlotte Reid's brother.
> "The race was real. My sister would've been proud."