The plaza in front of The Lost Realm felt alive.
Camera crews lined the fountain edge, vloggers adjusted lenses, and invited guests filled every corner of the space. The air smelled faintly of damp stone and fresh paint.
Sunlight glinted across the serpent arch above the entrance. From hidden speakers came the low rhythm of tribal drums, steady and deep, setting the tone for what was about to happen.
Lucas stood near the side of the stage platform that had been placed just before the temple façade.
He could hear the chatter of Dutch, German, and English voices all blending together — everyone speculating, everyone waiting.
"They've confirmed the ride's fully trackless," one reporter said, turning to a colleague. "Five-minute runtime, multi-route system, original story. People are calling it 'Europe's new benchmark for dark rides.'"
A few steps away, Theme Park Worldwide were already filming their intro.
Charlotte's voice carried clearly:
> "We're here at Elysion Park for the world premiere of The Lost Realm. It's a brand-new trackless dark ride and today we get to be among the first to experience it."
Shaun nodded beside her, grinning.
> "It looks absolutely stunning from the outside. The theming already feels like something from a major resort. Let's see what's waiting inside."
Lucas smiled faintly at the sound of their excitement. After everything — the meetings, late nights, budget risks, and months of secrecy — the moment had finally arrived.
Emma stepped up to the small podium, microphone in hand. The drums faded slightly as the crowd turned toward her.
"Good morning, everyone," she began, her voice clear but warm. "Thank you all for being here at Elysion Park on this special day.
Three years ago, this park began a new journey — one driven by creativity, passion, and a little bit of courage.
Today, we open the doors to something that represents all of that."
Applause rippled through the plaza. Cameras clicked.
Emma turned to Lucas and smiled. "Please welcome the man whose imagination brought The Lost Realm to life — our park's director, Lucas."
Lucas walked up to the microphone, greeted by another wave of applause and a few camera flashes.
He paused for a moment, taking in the crowd — the media, the guests, his team standing quietly at the edges.
"Thank you," he said, voice steady. "It's strange to see so many faces here for something that, for the longest time, only existed on paper."
A soft laugh moved through the crowd.
He continued,
> "We wanted to create a world that felt timeless — a story you could step into.
This ride isn't about speed or thrill. It's about discovery. It's about giving families a reason to dream again, together.
To everyone who worked on it — engineers, artists, technicians — thank you.
And to all of you here today: welcome to The Lost Realm."
Applause filled the plaza, louder this time. The faint mist from the vents thickened around the entrance, and the torches along the façade lit up in sequence.
Lucas turned slightly toward Emma and nodded. She pressed a small remote, and with a deep mechanical sound, the great stone doors of the temple began to slide open.
A burst of warm light spilled into the plaza as the soundtrack swelled — strings, drums, the echo of distant chanting.
The crowd leaned forward, cameras rolling, as the park's staff guided the first group toward the entrance.
Shaun's voice could be heard in the background, low but excited.
> "This is it. We're actually going in."
Lucas stepped back, watching the first guests disappear into the glowing corridor.
After all the years, after every risk — the world was finally seeing what they had built.
The air inside the antechamber was cool and heavy.
Dust floated in the beam of an old brass lamp. Expedition crates leaned against the walls, their faded labels still visible beneath a thin layer of sand.
Charlotte whispered, "It smells like an old museum."
Shaun panned the camera. "Everything's practical. No plain walls anywhere."
On the far side, murals glowed faintly—explorers kneeling before gods, constellations crossing their arms, globes of light cradled in stone palms.
Above, a slow mechanical creak echoed as bronze gears turned lazily behind a lattice ceiling.
> "Before time, the gods shaped the realms," the narration said—calm, deliberate, as though telling an ancient truth.
"And when their work was done, they sealed them away."
A low drone built under the voice.
Sand shifted along the floor as hidden vents exhaled.
In the corner, an animatronic archaeologist brushed dust from a tablet, his tiny lamp flickering as if disturbed by the same breath that moved the riders' hair.
Ben whispered behind the camera, "That's insane micro-motion."
A metallic clang cut through the hum.
The great bronze door at the end cracked open, fog curling through the gap.
The vehicles glided forward.
The path opened into a circular hall filled with angled mirrors and translucent smoke.
Blue beams cut through the haze, multiplying the vehicles into endless reflections.
Each mirror shimmered slightly out of sync, so the passengers' own images lagged a heartbeat behind.
Charlotte laughed quietly. "It's like we're in ten dimensions."
> "Who walks," the voice asked, split into three tones, "where no world should be?"
The floor pulsed once—deep, soft bass.
Hairline cracks of light shot across every surface, and the mirrors fractured into radiant shards.
Three tunnels appeared ahead, each glowing a different hue: white, green, and gold.
A mechanical chime sounded, and the cars diverged.
---
Route A – The Storm Temple
Lightning flashed across a dome painted with storm clouds.
Wind swept through open slits high above; cool rain mist touched their hands.
Massive stone guardians lined the walls, wings folded, eyes shut.
Shaun leaned forward. "Look at that one—it's moving!"
One of the statues turned its head. The wing joints flexed with a heavy, realistic groan.
The eyes lit white, lightning synchronised to each blink.
> "You seek what was lost."
The floor shifted three degrees sideways; the car tilted just enough to feel weight.
A pillar collapsed beside them—perfect timing, dust bursting outward but stopping just short of the riders.
Then, a flash. Everything froze mid-storm—raindrops suspended in light, thunder locked silent.
The jeep glided through the stillness and into shadow.
---
Route B – The Garden of Light
Ben's vehicle entered a sanctuary of glowing roots.
Soft music—harp and flute—floated above the sound of dripping water.
The air shimmered faintly with real mist and fiber-optic dust.
At the centre stood a holographic goddess above a pool of water.
Her hands moved slowly, shaping light like clay.
When she lifted her gaze, the water rippled in response.
> "Even the brightest realm forgets its maker."
Animatronic birds sang on vines that swayed gently in the airflow.
Ben whispered, "They actually breathe…look at the chest motion."
A technician in the control booth smiled at the monitor feed. Everything hit its timing mark.
The jeep glided beneath an arch of roots and disappeared into a tunnel of crystals.
---
Route C – The Forge of Time
The journalists' car rolled into a cavern glowing red-orange.
Projected molten light ran across the floor in perfect sync with a low metallic rhythm.
Steam hissed from vents as a colossal blacksmith automaton leaned over an anvil.
Gears turned visibly in his torso; his chest pulsed with orange light.
> "Creation demands motion," the voice thundered.
"And motion never ends."
The hammer struck.
A burst of white heat filled the chamber; sparks showered harmlessly around the trackless base.
The walls themselves seemed to melt into flowing metal patterns as the car advanced into the merging corridor.
---
All three routes joined again inside a vast circular space.
3 vehicles entered from three directions and formed a slow orbit around a central statue—two deities entwined, one gold, one grey stone.
Fog rose from the floor in spirals, catching thin beams of moving light.
Charlotte whispered, "This is unreal. You can't tell where the projection stops and the real sculpture starts."
The statue's surface shimmered—gold spreading across stone, fading, returning.
The orchestral score swelled, filling every corner of the dome.
> "All realms are one."
Rings of carvings above began to spin, glowing white.
Cracks of light split the walls; dust drifted downward.
The floor vibrated—not shaking, just breathing with the music's pulse.
Shaun muttered, "That's practical. It's all moving around us."
The rings reached full rotation.
The statue's eyes opened.
A tunnel of pure light unfolded beyond, pulling every reflection toward it.
The cars accelerated forward, smooth and silent.
The dome swallowed them.
Projection mapping erased every edge.
Stars stretched into spirals; galaxies drifted like slow fireworks.
Fog thinned, replaced by drifting motes of gold.
> "The realm opens."
The vehicles rotated gently around a glowing core at the centre of the room.
Weightless, calm, endless.
For a moment there was no sense of scale at all—only colour and sound.
Charlotte whispered, "It feels alive."
Shaun, still filming, said quietly, "I can't believe this is real-time projection."
The score hit a single sustained note.
Light intensified until it became white silence.
Out of the white came calm.
The light dissolved into blue ripples that moved across carved stone walls.
Real water flowed beside the path, tiny channels catching the reflections of lanterns.
The air cooled; the music slowed to a simple string melody.
Figures carved along the wall showed explorers leaving the temple, holding lamps just like the ones in the first hall.
> "Every journey ends where another begins."
The vehicles drifted under the final archway.
Warm amber light filled the space, soft and human after all the grandeur.
They stopped gently, and the lap bars rose.
For a moment, no one moved.
Just quiet breathing and the fading echo of the score.
Then Ben let out a small laugh. "That's not just the best dark ride here. That's the best one anywhere."
Shaun turned the camera toward Charlotte. "I don't even know how to describe it. It's… emotional."
She nodded. "It's art. You don't expect that in a theme park."
The journalists behind them exchanged glances—speechless, smiling.
When they stepped out into the corridor, sunlight spilled across the floor.
Outside, people waited for their turn, hearing the faint music that followed each departing group.
The world had no idea yet how good this was. But everyone in that first ride did.
Lucas stood near the exit, watching quietly as the riders came out—some laughing, some wiping at their eyes, all changed in the same small way.
He didn't say a word. Just smiled once, faintly, and let the next group in.
The heavy doors opened and the sound of jungle birds and faint temple drums spilled into the courtyard.
Cool afternoon light hit everyone's faces as they stepped outside.
For a few seconds there was only silence, broken by the mechanical hum of another set of vehicles sliding into the station behind them.
Then the reactions started.
"Unreal."
"Better than Symbolica."
"I can't believe this is in a regional park."
Cameras blinked red lights; phones went up everywhere.
Charlotte from Theme Park Worldwide spoke directly into her lens, eyes wide.
> "We've just come out of The Lost Realm, and honestly, I'm speechless.
This is what happens when passion and design meet in the right hands."
Ben laughed quietly beside her. "I didn't think a dark ride could feel cinematic, but that finale…"
He trailed off, shaking his head.
Further down the plaza, the crew from Xtremerides NL filmed slow shots of the temple façade, zooming on the rockwork and the subtle movement of mist between the statues.
Other creators were already sending footage to their editors in vans parked outside the park gates.
The small stage in front of the entrance came alive again as Emma stepped up with a mic.
Her voice carried across the crowd.
> "Thank you for being here today. What you've just seen is the result of almost two years of work from our incredible team.
Every scene, every light, every sound you felt—built right here, at Elysion Park."
Applause rolled through the crowd.
Lucas stepped beside her. He didn't hold a script, just looked over the people—press, builders, engineers, and a few hundred invited guests.
> "When we started this," he said, "it was an idea sketched on a napkin.
We wanted to prove that imagination doesn't belong only to the biggest parks.
It belongs to anyone willing to keep building until it's real."
Applause again, louder.
He glanced at Walter and the ETF engineers near the gate and gave a small nod.
RTL 4's presenter approached with a camera crew as the crowd thinned.
They had filmed all morning, but now they wanted the interview that would air that evening.
"Lucas," the presenter began, "viewers back home just saw the clips.
How does it feel to hear people call this one of Europe's best dark rides?"
He smiled, still a little dazed.
"I don't think about rankings. I think about reactions. If people come out quiet, that's when I know it worked."
"You mean when they can't find words?"
"Exactly."
The interviewer turned to capture the temple behind them, still breathing fog through its stone archways.
"What's next for Elysion Park?" she asked.
Lucas hesitated, eyes flicking to Emma for a second before he answered.
> "Let's just say the Lost Realm isn't the last world we'll build.
But for now—we'll enjoy this one."
The presenter laughed. "A safe answer. But a good one."
As the crew packed up, drones buzzed overhead capturing aerial shots of the temple in the fading light.
From above, the pathways, fountains, and rockwork formed a perfect circle around the new showbuilding—an unplanned symmetry that only now became visible.
Emma joined Lucas near the edge of the plaza.
People were still taking photos, their voices blending into a soft, satisfied hum.
"Look at them," she said. "They actually believe we can do anything now."
Lucas looked at the building one more time.
"For the first time," he said quietly, "I think they're right."