𝚛𝚎𝚟𝚒𝚟𝚊𝚕 | 𝚖𝚒𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚎𝚕 𝚜𝚌𝚑𝚞𝚖𝚊𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚛

prologue

The sun dipped low over the small German town of Kerpen, casting long shadows across the cobblestone streets and creating a scene straight out of a postcard. Tatum Schneider strolled along the familiar paths; her brow furrowed in frustration. She had just graduated with an engineering degree—an achievement that should have her dancing in the streets—but instead, she felt like a ghost, wandering through a town that had once been bursting with life. It was as if the degree she earned had turned into a heavy weight on her shoulders.

With each step, the echoes of her classmates celebrating their successes reminded her of the stark reality she faced: a sea of job applications, rejection emails, and endless "Thank you for your interest, but..." responses.

"Ach, why is it so hard to die, dammit?" she muttered under her breath, her frustration bubbling over like a badly mixed science experiment. The thought of entering the real world felt like jumping off a cliff without a parachute—she might as well just become a professional wallflower.

Just as she spat out her dramatic lament, a truck roared past, sending a rush of air that nearly knocked her off her feet.

"Shit, I almost died..." she exclaimed, reflexively stepping back and glaring at the vehicle as it zoomed by, shaking her head in disbelief.

She glanced up at the sky, a hint of sarcasm in her voice as she thought, "I was just trying to make a point! Who knew that the path to self-discovery could be so hazardous?"

With a sigh, Tatum continued her stroll, trying to shake off the absurdity of her situation. She couldn't help but wonder if the universe was playing a cruel joke. All she wanted was a little direction, maybe a sign—or at the very least, a less perilous stroll down memory lane.

Meanwhile, Michael Schumacher stood at a crossroads in his career, though most people looking in wouldn't have seen it. To the world, he was already a star—a young, aggressive driver destined for greatness. But to Michael, the weight of that destiny was becoming more real with each passing day. He had returned to his hometown of Kerpen for a brief respite, but even here, the looming shadow of the 1994 Formula 1 season hung over him like a storm cloud.

The sport had changed. In late 1993, Formula 1 introduced sweeping regulation changes. Gone were the electronic aids that had come to define the early '90s—active suspension, traction control, anti-lock brakes. It was no longer about who had the best tech, but who could wrestle a high-performance car to its limits with nothing but raw skill. And everyone expected Michael to thrive in this new era. His ability to push a car beyond its limits without relying on those aids had already set him apart. But with the added pressure came an unmistakable weight pressing down on his chest.

It wasn't just about being good anymore. It was about proving that he could be the best—about delivering on the promise of greatness the world saw in him. As he reflected on this, the question gnawed at him: was talent enough? And was he truly ready for what lay ahead? The Benetton-Ford team had its sights set on a championship, and they weren't quiet about their belief in him. But did he believe in himself that much?

Seeking some clarity, he decided to visit the place that had always centred him—the karting track in Kerpen. It was more than just a track; it was where everything began. The place where, as a child, the simplicity of speed had made everything feel possible. Now, as he pulled into the parking lot, the sight of it triggered a flood of memories. The modest track wasn't grand like the circuits of Monaco or Spa, but it held a weight all its own. Here, there had been no crowds, no sponsorship deals, no expectations—just pure competition and joy.

As he stepped out of the car, the familiar scent of burnt rubber and gasoline greeted him like an old friend. He stood still for a moment, breathing it in, grounding himself in the past. The track, with its twists and turns, felt like an echo of who he used to be. The boy who had driven here was fearless, racing simply for the thrill, for the love of it. But now? Now he had something to lose—his reputation, his future.