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Chapter 26 - Chapter 26

The morning mist still clung to the rooftops of Frontierland when Lucas crossed the wooden bridge toward his next target: Pirates of the Caribbean. The air smelled faintly of damp wood and saltwater, and somewhere in the distance a cannon boomed — a sound effect timed so well it almost felt real.

The entrance wound past stone archways and overgrown tropical plants, each corner muffling the outside world a little more. By the time Lucas stepped onto the loading dock, it felt as if he'd left the park entirely. The flicker of lanterns reflected off the dark water, and the faint creak of ships' rigging echoed from somewhere overhead.

The boat slid into the darkness. At first, there was quiet — a few fireflies, the gentle pluck of a guitar from a lone pirate singing to himself on a veranda. Then the world opened up: a battle between two full-size ships, cannonballs splashing into the water so close that Lucas felt the spray on his face. The scale was staggering, but it was the layering that impressed him most. In every direction, something happened — a duel in the shadows, a parrot squawking from a high mast, the distant laughter of drunken pirates in a tavern.

The pacing was masterful: moments of calm broken by bursts of chaos, each scene flowing naturally into the next. By the time the boat drifted past the burning town, its buildings collapsing in carefully timed choreography, Lucas had already broken the ride down into mental "beats" — each one a lesson in how to control tension and release.

When he stepped back onto dry land, he realized he'd been gone for almost ten minutes, though it felt like far less. That, he thought, was the mark of a truly immersive ride — time bending without you noticing.

From the humid, torch-lit world of pirates, he crossed into the neon glow of Discoveryland. Here, his next stop was Buzz Lightyear Laser Blast — a very different kind of dark ride, but one just as relevant to his research.

The queue buzzed with bright colors and oversized props, making every guest feel as if they'd shrunk to toy size. Inside, the air was cooler, the lighting sharper. The ride vehicles spun freely, and Lucas quickly realized how much that mechanic added to the experience: not just shooting targets, but positioning yourself for the best angle.

He studied the set design as much as the gameplay. Each room had a clear focal point, drawing riders toward the biggest targets, while smaller details rewarded those who looked closer. The pacing here wasn't about narrative; it was about maintaining engagement. The music was fast, the dialogue snappy, the targets satisfying to hit with a burst of light.

By the time his ride ended, Lucas's score was mediocre — he'd spent more time observing than aiming — but that hardly mattered. What stuck with him was the integration of interactivity into a physical ride space. It was another dimension of immersion, one his own park might someday use in ways beyond shooting galleries.

As he left Discoveryland, the thought settled in his mind like an anchor: his future dark ride didn't need to copy any one style. It could pull from all of them — the atmosphere of Phantom Manor, the flow of Pirates, the charm of Small World, the interactivity of Buzz — and blend them into something distinctly Elysion.

The drive back to the park took most of the morning. By the time Lucas pulled into the staff lot, frost had melted off the Jungle Zone roofs and the cranes were already moving. The first thing he noticed was the color: that deep forest green track catching the light as another section was hoisted into place.

He cut through Explorer's Landing, past the shuttered Globe & Griddle, and stepped through the service gate. The site looked different from a week ago—busier, taller. Golden supports rose like ribs from the concrete footers; pallets of hardware and cable drums were lined in neat rows, each tagged and logged.

> [System – Internal]

Vertical construction: supports 40%, track install 18%.

Next milestones: launch track delivery (10 days), station steel fit-out (late Feb), electrical rough-in (early Mar).

Theming start window: April 2017 (confirmed).

A foreman waved him over. "We're tying in the first spine over the creek crossing. If wind stays calm, we can set two more segments before sunset."

Lucas watched as the crew guided the splice plates together, bolts sliding home with a hollow thud. A torque wrench clicked in steady rhythm—tighten, mark, move on. From behind the construction walls, the new silhouette finally read as a coaster instead of a steel sculpture: a low, fast curve hugging the ground before ducking toward the future tunnel.

He walked the perimeter, checking the details that guests would never notice but would always feel: drain lines routed under pathways, conduit stub-ups labeled for show control, anchor points marked for rockwork skins. Near the temple façade of Elysion Expedition – Cursed Ruins, a cleared pad waited for the soundproofed tunnel box that would house the rolling launch.

Back in the office, Emma had the January update analytics open on her laptop. "The construction video did well," she said, swiveling the screen. "Solid engagement from the enthusiast crowd. For March, we should tease something bigger."

"The train," Lucas said. "Front shell mock-up is due mid-March. If we reveal the slither motif and the eyes, we don't have to show the whole layout."

Emma nodded. "One-minute spot. Night shots if we can. I'll storyboard it."

He set his notebook from the trip on the desk—Efteling, Phantasialand, Disneyland—pages flagged and smudged. "I'm not ordering the entrance dark ride yet," he said, more to himself than to Emma. "I want the park open, revenue flowing, and then we'll lock the brief. May feels right."

> [System – Internal]

Park finance checkpoint scheduled (Nov → mid-Feb expenses).

Advisory: defer new commitments until post-March revenue update.

He stepped back out before dusk, just in time to see the crane set the day's final segment. The splice slid in clean; pins dropped; the track sat, for the first time, as a continuous line from the future station portal into the first sweeping turn. Even without trains, the shape suggested speed.

In Explorer's Zone, The Discovery 16 site felt equally close—footers cured, base frame staged behind temporary fencing, crates from Technical Park stacked and checked off. If the weather held, assembly could begin next week. March wasn't far.

He lingered a moment longer at the entrance plaza, eyes catching on the blank rectangle reserved for the indoor dark ride. It didn't look like much—just survey stakes and a dusting of gravel—but after three parks in four days, he could already feel the outline of something there: a pre-show that set tone without shouting, scenes that breathed, a finale that didn't rush the goodbye.

The wind picked up. Somewhere in the Jungle Zone, a ratchet clicked and a foreman called for final torque. The park was closed, but it was very much alive.

The next day

The morning sun hit the frost-coated rooftops of Explorer's Zone, throwing shards of light across the freshly cured footers at the Sky Discovery site. The chill in the air didn't slow the crew—today was about staging the final components.

From behind the temporary fencing, the silhouette of the ride was beginning to make sense. The circular base frame was now bolted to its footers, painted a deep navy that stood out against the pale winter sky. Just beyond it, three open crates revealed the gondolas—polished arms wrapped in protective foam, still smelling faintly of factory paint.

Lucas stepped through the service gate, nodding to the Technical Park supervisor. "How's the timeline?"

"Better than expected," the man replied, tapping a clipboard. "Weather holds, we'll have the arms up by Friday. Drive system install starts right after. We'll be commissioning by the first week of March."

Lucas glanced over to where the control booth frame was being anchored. Conduit lines were already snaking into the base, labeled for ride power, show lighting, and the operator's panel. Beyond the fence, the familiar hum of the Jungle Zone cranes carried over—Serpent's Run and Sky Discovery were advancing in parallel.

He pulled out his phone and opened the system overlay in his mind's eye.

> [System – Internal]

Project: Sky Discovery (Technical Park, Italy)

Status: 42% assembly complete.

Weather delay risk: low (forecast stable).

Estimated opening date: March 18, 2017 (soft launch).

Lucas let the numbers sink in. March 18 gave them just over four weeks to not only complete assembly but also run safety checks, train staff, and fine-tune guest flow. It was doable—but only if nothing unexpected cropped up.

Past the ride, a small crew was reworking the path layout, widening the approach so guests wouldn't bottleneck when the ride opened. Benches and themed lamp posts were already staged to go in once paving was finished.

Emma approached with her camera slung over her shoulder. "Press kit shots?" she asked.

"Not yet," Lucas said. "Once the arms are up and the drive cover's on, we'll do a preview. I want it to look like a complete attraction before we start the hype."

She nodded, snapping a few reference photos for internal use. "March is going to be busy," she said, half to herself.

Lucas gave one last look at the base frame—solid, ready for the next step—before heading back toward the main path. For now, Sky Discovery was just steel and bolts, but in a month, it would be spinning guests high above Explorer's Zone.

And when that first gondola lifted into the cold spring air, it would be more than just a ride—it would be the first new chapter in Elysion Park's rebirth.

Winter Ledger

Lucas sat at the desk behind the shuttered Globe & Griddle, a faint smell of fresh paint still clinging to the walls from the renovations. Outside, the February air was sharp, and the Jungle Zone cranes moved against a pale winter sky. He tapped his pen against the open notebook, then let the familiar overlay of the system slide into place.

> [System – Internal]

Park budget checkpoint: November 2016 → mid-February 2017

Starting balance (Nov 2016): €9,225,200

System funds: €30,536,000 (unchanged)

Fixed monthly costs during closure:

• Core staff salaries (operations, maintenance, admin, security): €300,000

• Utilities (power, heating, water, construction energy): €80,000

• Maintenance & equipment: €50,000

• Admin/marketing/other: €20,000

Total monthly expenses: €450,000

3.5 months × €450,000 = €1,575,000

New park budget (mid-Feb 2017): €7,650,200

Lucas leaned back, letting the numbers settle in his mind. It was a relief to see the drop wasn't worse. Even without ticket revenue, the park's savings from the strong 2016 season were holding up. They had more than enough to keep the core team employed, cover utilities, and keep projects moving until March, when the gates would open again.

It was exactly why he'd kept a lean crew during renovations — every paycheck mattered, and every euro not spent on fluff meant another day of stability. There were no unnecessary fireworks, no risky purchases. Not yet.

Outside, a gust of wind rattled the scaffolding near the temple façade. He closed the system view and looked at the map on the wall, the bright pins marking Sky Discovery, Serpent's Run, and the blank rectangle for the future dark ride. Soon, the park would be alive again. And when the first guests walked back through Explorer's Landing, they'd never know how close every decision came to the balance sheet.

For Lucas, the numbers weren't just numbers. They were time — time to finish, time to prepare, and time to make sure that when Elysion Park reopened, it was ready for everything.

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