For the first time in months, Lucas left the park before noon.
The sun hung low above the motorway as he drove south, the world outside the window changing from construction zones to open fields and red-brick houses.
By the time he reached Breda, the air smelled faintly of summer rain and freshly cut grass — the kind of smell that always reminded him of being home.
His parents' house looked the same as it always had: the ivy still climbing the brick walls, the same small bicycle leaning against the fence.
He parked the car and stood there for a moment before ringing the bell.
His mother opened the door with a wide smile. "Well, look who finally remembered where he grew up!"
Lucas laughed. "I'm pretty sure I was here at Christmas."
"That was six months ago," she said, pulling him into a hug anyway.
Inside, the house felt warm and familiar.
The same clock ticked in the hallway, the same family photos lined the wall — though now there were new ones too, newspaper clippings from Elysion Park taped beside them. One headline read "Serpent's Run Opens to Record Crowds."
His father looked up from the kitchen table. "You're becoming quite the businessman, aren't you?"
Lucas smiled modestly. "Just doing my job."
They spent the afternoon talking — about the park, about how his parents' neighbors kept asking for discount tickets, about everything and nothing at all.
For the first time in weeks, he didn't think about budgets, deadlines, or building permits.
Later, while his parents made coffee, he wandered upstairs into his old room.
The posters were gone, replaced by neat shelves, but one drawer in his desk still held a stack of old sketchbooks.
He flipped one open, smiling at the messy pencil lines of half-finished ideas: rides that could never exist, impossible parks that only made sense in a teenager's imagination.
Then one sketch caught his eye — a swirling storm of clouds and floating platforms connected by bridges.
In the corner, he'd scribbled a name in faint pencil: "The Storm Frontier."
He stared at it for a long moment, remembering the thought behind it.
A world powered by wind and invention, airships floating through thunder.
He laughed quietly to himself. "Guess I was already thinking too big back then."
Still, he tore the page out and slipped it into his jacket pocket.
Some ideas, he thought, didn't belong in drawers forever.
When he went back downstairs, his mother handed him a mug of coffee.
"You look like you've seen a ghost," she said with a smile.
"Not a ghost," Lucas replied, looking out the window at the calm Breda street. "Just an old idea that might finally have its time."
"A New Frontier" (Final Canon Version)
The morning sunlight spilled across the polished desk as Lucas opened the summer report.
It had been the first full season with Serpent's Run in operation, and the numbers spoke for themselves.
> [Elysion Park – Full Summer Report | July–August 2017]
• Total visitors: 471,230 (+34 % vs 2016)
• Average daily attendance: 7,850
• Highest single-day attendance: 14,420 (July 15)
Revenue Breakdown
• Ticket sales: €11.64 million
• Food & beverage: €3.58 million
• Merchandise: €2.01 million
• Parking & premium passes: €0.92 million
• Events & group bookings: €0.79 million
Total gross revenue: €18.94 million
Operational & maintenance costs: €13.04 million
Net profit: €5.90 million
Lucas let out a slow breath.
For a park that had once struggled to break even, this was extraordinary.
Guest spending was up, merchandise sales had nearly doubled, and online reviews were glowing.
"System," he said quietly, "apply the standard performance multiplier."
> [Acknowledged – Profit recognized.]
[€5,900,000 × 5 = €29,500,000]
[System Funds increased from €24,220,000 → €53,720,000]
The faint blue shimmer flickered across his vision, confirming the transfer.
Elysion had not only grown — it had thrived.
He scrolled further down the report.
> [Post-season Park Budget: €8,940,000 → €12,280,000]
[System Funds: €53,720,000 (restricted use)]
He smiled slightly. "Not bad for one summer."
"System," he continued, "can those funds be used for property purchase?"
> [Negative. System Funds restricted to construction, theming, and in-park development. Real-world property must be acquired through official park capital.]
Lucas nodded. "So the park has to pay for its own ground."
> [Affirmative.]
He stood, gazing through the window toward the quiet meadows east of the park — the open land that marked Elysion's border.
In his mind, he could already see towers rising above the trees, bridges stretching toward the horizon.
"System, show me available terrain."
> [Owned land: 28.4 ha]
[Unused internal buffer (east): 3.1 ha]
[Adjacent private farmland available: 14.2 ha – estimated price €7.8 million]
He crossed his arms, calculating. It was possible.
If revenue held steady through autumn, the park could buy the land by next spring and still remain liquid.
He turned to the whiteboard, pinned the old sketch from Breda beside the dark-ride layout, and wrote in bold marker:
PHASE III – THE STORM FRONTIER
> [New project file created.]
[Awaiting property acquisition authorization.]
Lucas looked at the figures one last time.
The dark ride was funded, attendance had soared, and the system's reserves were stronger than ever.
For the first time, expansion felt not just possible, but inevitable.
"Let's make room for the future," he said softly.