20 December 2018 – Elysion Park
The snow had started to melt, leaving wet lines across the pathways.
The air smelled like cold metal and pine — the kind of quiet that only came when the park was asleep.
Lucas walked through the main plaza with his hands in his coat pockets.
He'd spent half the morning in his office, reading the new maintenance reports.
Everything was under control. For once, he wasn't needed anywhere.
He stopped near the fountain in Explorer's Landing — drained for the winter, its tiles pale and dry.
This was the first time in three years that he didn't feel tied to this place.
He still loved it. But it no longer felt like home.
From where he stood, he could see the small apartment above the administration building.
The light was still on inside — his light. The same one that had been burning late almost every night since 2015.
It felt strange now, seeing it from the outside.
His phone buzzed again.
Emma.
"Board wants a final status update before New Year's. Should I write it up?"
Lucas smiled slightly. "Yeah. Keep it short. They know the numbers."
She replied with a thumbs-up emoji. Simple, easy, familiar.
He kept walking until he reached the edge of the parking lot.
From there, the road curved toward the hills outside Gronau — quiet, wooded, dotted with small houses.
For the first time, he wondered what it would be like to live out there.
No schedules.
No radio calls.
Just silence.
He leaned against the fence, breathing in the cold air.
He thought about what Emma had said that morning: You'll figure it out.
Maybe she was right. Maybe this was what "figuring it out" looked like — realizing you'd built something beautiful, and now needing somewhere to simply exist beside it.
Back in his office, he opened a new browser tab.
Real estate listings.
He typed "lake view Gronau" into the search bar.
It felt impulsive, but honest.
The first few results were wrong — too modern, too flashy.
He scrolled, slow, eyes drifting over photos until one caught his attention.
A house half-hidden between trees, facing still water.
Dark wood, glass, quiet architecture.
He clicked it, leaned back, and just stared at the photo.
He didn't know why, but it looked right.
The thought came softly, almost like a whisper:
> "Maybe home doesn't have to be the park anymore."
He closed the tab for now, opened his system panel, and checked his updated balance.
After the tenfold bonus and the new salary multiplier, his personal funds stood at €2,280,000 — untouched, waiting.
For the first time, that number didn't feel like a goal.
It felt like freedom.
21 December 2018
The sound of boots on wet pavement echoed between the narrow streets.
Lucas pulled his scarf tighter as he crossed the square toward a small office with gold letters on the window:
"Schneider Immobilien – Private Properties & Estates."
Inside, the air was warm, faintly smelling of coffee and paper.
A woman at the reception looked up from her desk. "Guten Morgen. Haben Sie einen Termin?"
Lucas smiled politely. "Yes. Lucas van den Berg. We spoke on the phone yesterday."
She nodded. "Of course, Herr van den Berg. One moment please."
A few minutes later, a man in his early forties appeared — neat suit, calm tone.
"Mr. van den Berg. I'm Markus Schneider. Please, come in."
The office was lined with framed photos of country homes and lakeside villas.
Markus gestured for him to sit. "So, you're looking for something outside Gronau. Something quiet, yes?"
Lucas nodded. "Quiet. Enough space to breathe. I live at my park, and… it's time for something different."
Markus smiled knowingly. "I understand. Do you have a price range in mind?"
Lucas thought for a moment, then answered plainly, "About one point two million. I don't want something too big, but it should feel complete. Modern, but not cold."
The agent typed a few notes. "Any particular wishes? Lake view, large lot, garage space?"
"Garage, definitely. Three, maybe four cars. Room to expand later. I like clean lines, dark colors. Nothing flashy."
Markus nodded, scrolling through a folder on his screen. "We have a few listings that match. Most are near the lake, five to ten minutes from the city. You prefer privacy, yes?"
"Yes. But not isolation. I still need to get to the park easily."
He paused, then added with a small grin, "And I'm planning to work on a few cars myself, so enough space for tools would help."
The agent laughed. "Understood. A house for both living and tinkering."
Markus clicked through a few options before turning the monitor toward him.
The first image showed a wooden structure on a slope, glass panels facing water, surrounded by birch trees.
Lucas leaned forward slowly. "That one."
"You like it?"
"Yeah," he said softly. "A lot."
Markus nodded. "It's available. I can arrange a private viewing before New Year's if you like."
"Do it," Lucas said. "I'll be here."
As they shook hands, Markus smiled again. "You seem like a man who knows exactly what he wants."
Lucas chuckled. "Most of the time, yes. This is one of those times."
Outside, the cold air hit his face again. The city felt different now — alive, full of quiet plans.
For the first time in years, he was about to buy something for himself.
27 December 2018 – Lake District, near Gronau
The road curved gently through the forest, the trees bare and silver in the winter light.
Lucas followed the real estate agent's black sedan until they reached a small gravel path that led down toward the lake.
At the end of it, half-hidden between the trees, stood the house.
It wasn't large, but every line looked deliberate — a mix of dark wood, stone, and glass that caught the reflection of the water below.
The driveway was wide enough for several cars. The quiet hum of the lake carried through the cold air.
Markus stepped out first, smiling as he turned to Lucas. "So, this is the one we talked about. The owner moved abroad last summer. It's been empty since."
Lucas nodded slowly, his eyes tracing the shape of the roofline, the wide windows, the terrace overlooking the water.
It already felt calm. Honest. Balanced.
Inside, the air smelled faintly of cedar and dust.
Sunlight filtered through the tall windows, painting thin golden lines across the wooden floor.
Every step echoed softly — like walking inside an idea that hadn't yet been filled.
Markus pointed out the details. "Three bedrooms, two bathrooms, and this main hall faces west. You get sunset light over the lake every evening."
Lucas walked toward the glass doors and looked outside. The surface of the lake shimmered, thin ice forming near the edges.
He could almost see himself sitting there after work, watching the light fade.
"There's space behind the slope for a second structure," Markus added. "A workshop or garage, depending on what you'd like."
Lucas turned back, a small smile appearing. "A garage. Definitely."
He walked slowly through each room — not saying much, but noting every texture, every echo.
He didn't think about the price. Not once.
It wasn't about numbers. It was about fit.
When they reached the kitchen, Markus broke the silence. "So, what do you think?"
Lucas didn't answer immediately. He just looked around one more time, then said quietly, "This feels like mine already."
Markus smiled. "Then let's make it official. We can arrange the signing in the first week of January."
Lucas nodded. "Do it. And I'll need someone who can help with the interior. I want it done right — not rushed."
"I'll make a few calls. You'll have names before New Year's."
As they stepped back outside, Lucas took one last look at the view — the still water, the slope, the trees reflecting in the glass.
Something in him settled.
The park was his creation.
But this, this would be his world.