Max Verstappen had discovered something deeply important about Carlos Sainz.

Carlos Sainz was not a man.

Carlos Sainz was machinery.

This wasn’t an insult. This was scientific observation.

It started innocently, as these things always did, with Max being bored in the paddock and the team radio somehow already annoying him, even though no one had said anything yet. Carlos was sitting on a rolling chair by the garage, staring at a water bottle like it had personally betrayed him.

Max watched him.