There was a faint beeping sound. Rhythmic. Calm. It looped steadily like the countdown of a rocket waiting to launch. Then came the scent of antiseptic, strong and sterile. The air around him felt heavy, artificial, too still.
Sukhman Singh's eyelids twitched.
Another beep.
And then...his eyes opened.
For a long moment, all he could do was stare at the ceiling. It was white. Unbroken. Blurry at the edges. His mind, still coated in fog, began to slowly recollect pieces of reality.
Where am I?
He tried to move his neck but a jolt of pain shot through his right side. He winced, instinctively raising his left hand to touch his shoulder.
"Puttar…"
The voice was gentle, unmistakable. His mother.
"Ma…?"
His lips barely moved, but the sound escaped. His eyes shifted, and there she was—Baljeet Kaur—tears already flowing down her wrinkled cheeks. She stood beside him, holding his hand as if letting go might make him disappear again. Manpreet, his sister, stood behind her, red-eyed but smiling through her tears.
"Oh Waheguru... you're finally awake," Baljeet whispered. "You scared us all."
Sukhman blinked, confused. His throat felt like sandpaper.
Manpreet leaned in. "You've been unconscious for three weeks, veerji. The doctors weren't sure when you'd wake up."
Three weeks?
The fog of memory started to part. He remembered Tokyo. The race. Lap 15. Something felt wrong in the car. Then the explosion. The screeching metal. The weightlessness. And darkness.
"Race…" he muttered.
"You're safe now. You're in Berlin. They transported you here last week," Manpreet said softly. "It was too risky to operate in Tokyo."
A tear dropped from Baljeet's chin onto his hospital blanket. She kissed his forehead and kept murmuring prayers.
---
Later in the afternoon, the door to his room creaked open.
"Knock, knock," came a familiar voice.
It is Nandini.
She walked in, not with her usual professional poise, but with eyes that carried a thousand unspoken emotions. Her hands were trembling slightly, and she clutched a tablet under her arm.
"I was hoping you'd wake up today," she said with a faint smile. "I've been here every day."
Sukhman managed a weak grin. "Still…manager of the year."
Nandini exhaled sharply, then pulled the chair closer to his bed. "I have some things to tell you. Things you'll need time to process."
He nodded.
"First, the medical news," she began. "Your right shoulder... it suffered a severe impact. A metal shard missed your artery by mere millimeters. It's nothing short of a miracle you're alive. If it had gone a bit deeper…"
Sukhman stared at the ceiling, breathing slow. The weight of it settled.
"The doctors say it's a career-threatening injury, Sukhman. You'll need extensive physiotherapy. Even then, driving in the next few months is not advisable."
There was silence. The kind that fills up a room and buries everything else under its weight.
"And..." she paused, taking a deep breath. "Tomorrow is the qualifying session for the final GP in Berlin."
He blinked. "Tomorrow?"
"Yes."
Nandini hesitated again. "There's one more thing."
She handed him the tablet. A video began to play — the IRC's official press conference.
IRC Chairman Castalino Piere spoke at the podium.
"We have concluded our investigation into the Tokyo crash. Evidence confirms that there was unauthorized data leakage from the Vaayu GP engineering systems. This breach enabled manipulation of car telemetry. The suspect responsible is Yudhvir Shikre."
Sukhman's face turned cold.
Nandini nodded. "They traced the leak back to his credentials. The blueprint, performance model — everything was sold to a third-party syndicate."
Sukhman clenched the bed sheet. His head swirled.
"He's under arrest in India. The police are questioning him. But the damage..."
He didn't say anything. A swirl of betrayal, disbelief, and a strange hollow feeling settled in his chest. "How could it be?" He murmurs.
"Callum has won in Tokyo," Nandini said. "He's leading the championship now with 153 points. You're still second… but the gap has widened. On the other end Ayanda with her 6th finish and Finn with his 2nd finish has acquired top 3. You're still in the 4th position in the leaderboard, Sukhman. But whether you'll race again..."
She didn't finish that sentence.
Sukhman turned away from her, eyes fixed on the distant wall. His hands trembled. The pain from his shoulder was nothing compared to the aching storm inside.
Everything had changed.
But he isn't done.
Even though this season has ended in a bad way, he still has chance..... in next year. And he will come back stronger.