The late winter chill lingered in the air as Elysion Park's gates swung open for the first time that year. Bundled-up families and groups of friends streamed into Explorer's Landing, their breath visible in the cool morning light.
Music from Global Explorer's Delight drifted across the plaza as visitors followed the main path deeper into the park. From a distance, the bronze arm of Sky Discovery could be seen swinging in slow arcs between Max Around the World and the balloon ride in the Explorer's Zone. Even from here, its bordeaux seats caught flashes of sunlight as the gondola rotated gently during a warm-up cycle.
Lucas walked the path toward the plaza, taking in the sound of excited chatter. The closer he got, the clearer the hum of Sky Discovery's motor became. A small crowd had already gathered, cameras in hand, waiting for the first public rides.
Beyond the plaza, tall construction walls marked the entrance to the Jungle Zone. The deep forest green track of Serpent's Run rose above them, golden supports gleaming against the pale sky. A section of the wall now featured a newly cut opening — a gap where the track emerged from the hidden construction site, soared over Jungle Splash Adventure's splash pool, and then disappeared back through another wall on the far side.
For now, the flume lay silent. A sign at the entrance explained:
> Temporarily Closed – Reopening 21 March
Reason: Serpent's Run track installation over ride area.
Cranes and scaffolding were still in place on both sides of the flume, the coaster track bare of any theming. Only raw steel and fresh concrete footers hinted at the work yet to be done.
Walter appeared beside Lucas, coffee in hand. "Three days," he said, nodding toward the sign.
"Just enough for them to finish this section," Lucas replied. "Then guests can enjoy the flume again — and get a sneak peek at part of the coaster."
A cheer went up as Sky Discovery began its first public ride of the season, the gondola swinging higher and spinning faster until the crowd's chatter turned to shouts and laughter. Lucas watched the ride crest its arc before his eyes drifted back to the Jungle Zone.
The season was open, the guests were back — and the green steel waiting beyond those walls was a promise of what was still to come.
The first public cycle of Sky Discovery drew a cheer from the queue line as the gondola climbed higher and began its slow rotation. Riders leaned into the harnesses, pointing at the park below as they swung over the plaza. From the ground, the metallic whoosh of each pass echoed between the buildings, punctuated by laughter and the occasional shriek.
A group of teenagers stumbled off the ride, grinning and half out of breath.
"That swing at the top? I swear you can see the whole park," one said, shaking his head with a grin.
"Yeah, and that thing over the flume—what is that?!" another replied, gesturing toward the Jungle Zone.
From the queue entrance, the view toward Jungle Splash Adventure was just clear enough to spot the newly installed coaster section. The deep green track shot out from a wall, glided over the flume's splash pool on golden supports, and vanished back into another wall. The scene was framed by the still water below, with scaffolding and a crane lingering on the far side.
Near the construction wall, two friends stopped to snap a few photos.
"Looks bare," one remarked. "Guess they're still working on it."
"Yeah, but it's huge. Imagine going over the water like that."
More guests trickled in from Explorer's Landing, their attention drawn either to the swinging arms of Sky Discovery or the unusual sight of coaster track over a flume ride. Even without the finished theming, the contrast of fresh paint against the muted winter landscape was striking.
By midday, the park buzzed with chatter — part excitement for the new season, part speculation about the green and gold steel vanishing into the Jungle Zone's walls.
20 March 2017
The morning air at the Swiss facility carried a crisp chill, the kind that sharpened every sound in the yard. Behind the security fence, rows of coaster track sat on padded trestles—each spine a uniform, matte red primer with white stencils marking position codes for Serpent's Run.
Matthias, their Intamin guide, waved them through a side gate. "These are yours," he said, tapping a label that matched the park's project number. Forklifts threaded the lanes with practiced ease, setting down curved pieces onto wooden cribbing while welders' sparks snapped inside the open assembly hall.
Lucas paused beside a stack of transitions. Even in primer, the geometry was unmistakable: pieces that would guide trains from the second launch into the mid-course sequence, and others that would carry them onward toward the brake run. A separate rack held the lower flanks for the big airtime hill—left and right segments tagged for opposite sides of the climb—while the apex sat marked on a manifest board, listed for a later shipment.
"We're staggering deliveries," Matthias explained. "What you've installed at the park runs up to the start of Launch Two. Next bundles link the launch into the hill and then carry on toward the brakes. The very top of the hill ships last—easier access everywhere else if that cap isn't in the way."
Out in the yard again, Lucas traced a finger along the red rail, imagining the same curve in green cutting across the Jungle Splash splashdown back home. The pieces were a puzzle—separate, labeled, ordinary—until they clicked into place and became a line with speed and purpose.
"At our other site," Matthias said, almost casually, "your trains are nearing completion. Different team, different building. You could visit there next if you'd like."
They walked the remaining rows—one more sweep of numbers, welds, and tags—then turned toward the office, the red steel quiet behind them, waiting for its next journey.
The road between the two sites was quiet, lined with low industrial buildings and patches of early spring grass. Lucas kept one hand on the wheel, the other resting loosely against the gear lever, the hum of the engine filling the space between him and Walter. Ten minutes ago they'd left the track yard behind; now the familiar silver SUV rolled into a second facility, smaller but ringed with the same high fencing and guarded gate.
Matthias was already waiting at the entrance. He waved them through with a brisk nod and led the way toward a long, narrow building. The faint smell of machine oil and cut metal drifted out into the cool air.
Inside, the space opened into a brightly lit workshop. On the nearest track stood a nearly completed train—its deep forest-green panels already fitted, the weathered gold accents catching the overhead lights. Amber-tinted headlamps framed the jeep-like front, with a bundle of coiled rope secured to the bumper. Beyond it, a second train sat in the same stage of assembly, workers tightening bolts along the open sides.
At the far end of the hall, a third frame rested on jigs, nothing but the bare steel chassis and wheel assemblies in place. It looked skeletal, the proportions unmistakably the same, but with every contour still exposed.
"Three trains as planned," Matthias said, stepping aside so they could take it in. "All identical, though we've left space in your block design for a fourth, should you ever need to raise capacity."
Lucas walked along the first train, running his fingertips along the smooth panels. The dark brown, canvas-look seats were already in place, the brass-coloured lap bars folded neatly upward. It was strange—recognisable from the design renderings, yet more real for every scratch and fingerprint that had already marked the paint.
Walter lingered near the unfinished chassis, eyes narrowing as he studied the welds. "Strong work," he murmured. "No rough edges."
Matthias led them farther back, where racks of parts lined the wall—spare wheel assemblies, undercarriage components, and boxed hardware labelled for Serpent's Run. A short test section of track sat mounted in one corner, a mock-up for clearance and lap bar checks, the green paint still smelling faintly fresh.
"Final assembly here," Matthias explained, "then they'll be crated for shipment. First two go out together, third follows a week later once she's dressed."
Lucas glanced back down the row of trains, imagining them racing through the Jungle Zone back home. For now, they sat silent under the workshop lights, waiting for their turn to move.