Rollercoaster Ride Through the Reborn Shelter
Whoooosh—like a damn rollercoaster. I glanced down, and a vertigo-inducing view stretched out below.
"The cars look so tiny." The dump truck that could smash large infected like bowling pins in one hit resembled a toy car, and the cargo drones were little more than flying gnats.
No need to be that scared. It's perfectly safe.
Artemis spoke with innocent cheer, either oblivious to my anxiety or pretending not to notice. The rail construction across the ceiling had just wrapped up phase one, and she'd contacted me to show off the results. I'd arrived at the rendezvous and climbed to the rooftop of the central control building—the highest point overlooking the entire Shelter.
I'd assumed it was just a panoramic view of the whole place. But no, she'd meant putting me on a lift and giving me a full lap around.
Whoooosh. The wind picked up again. For an enclosed city, the breeze was mild compared to the height. If this were an outdoor skyscraper, I'd be battling serious gales. Not that it made the savage drop below any less terrifying.
"You really expect me to ride this thing?" The lift in front of me was wide open on all sides, offering an unobstructed view of the deadly abyss. I didn't want to look scared, but fuck, I really didn't want to do this.
What, just take a quick look from this dizzying rooftop and call it done?
"I can see everything from up here anyway."
That's how it looks with your eyesight, sure?
The screen she pulled up on the PDA showed exactly what I was seeing. Distant spots were blurry from the limits of human vision, and the edges looked like they'd been smeared with a blur tool.
I tried to brush it off, but she nailed me.
Plus, you can't see the rails threading between the buildings.
"I'm sure you handled it perfectly."
Of course I did. But doesn't it need the manager's final inspection to hit 100%?
Her voice brimmed with righteous justification, but it was laced with excitement. She sounded like a dev dying to show off her new mod.
"Wasn't this whole project started so your hands could handle things? No residents yet—who's gonna ride these lifts anyway?"
Next to the lift sat massive mechanical arms. They'd crawl along the spiderweb of rails spanning the city, picking up or setting down whatever she needed. The hand of God, literally.
These rails aren't just for executing my will. They'll handle transport too. Cars and trams have their limits.
"No one's here to ride them."
No reason to settle for 98% just because tenants haven't moved in. I want a perfect city.
For Artemis, it was a matter of pride over efficiency.
Worst case, security bots or androids can use them. Or you for emergency evac. If these had been up during the infection outbreak, we could've responded way faster.
Couldn't argue with that.
"Fine, but at least make it enclosed like a cable car. This feels too much like a rollercoaster even on a good day."
The lift looked like a two-seater rollercoaster car sliced from an amusement park ride and lightened up.
Safety's no issue. I test-ran it ten times with a security bot aboard.
A video played on the PDA. A scary-looking security bot rode the lift, zipping through the city. Without a "maintain posture" command, its head whipped wildly around curves, mouth gaping open and shut in a grotesque rhythm. Indescribable.
If it handled something way heavier than me ten times without issue, I'd probably be fine.
"Fuck it."
Whining more would bruise my pride, and I couldn't ignore the eager thrill in Artemis's voice. I climbed in and buckled up. The safety bar dropped. Despite the lightweight frame, the bar, actuators, and rail connections looked rock-solid.
Safety checks complete. Ready to launch?
She sounded like a kid on Christmas. I couldn't help but chuckle at the image of her running to her dad on a day off, game controller in hand.
What's so funny?
"Nothing. Let's go."
Vrrrrm. A heavy hum, and the lift lurched forward. This was the highest point in the Shelter. The track ran straight for about ten meters before plummeting sharply. A long airtime drop straight down.
"Should've worn long pants. Damn it."
Not fully enclosed below, wind whipped up my shorts. The chill between my legs was more eerie than refreshing.
Your balls are shrinking up.
"Don't narrate that."
Here we go—dropping now!
Vroooom. This wasn't rollercoaster-like; it was a rollercoaster. Blasting downward, fierce wind and weightlessness enveloped me.
"Why's it so fast? This is an amusement ride, not a lift!"
The speed made talk impossible amid the roar, but she caught every word.
Slow would be boring and inefficient. Transport's gotta be fast to be good. We own this track—no collision risk.
A strange tingle spread from my chest to my gut. Not unpleasant, but a third sensation beyond orgasm—bouncing like a superball in my ribcage.
It's safe—let go of the bar already.
She teased as I white-knuckled the safety bar.
"I'm always weak to this shit! Viking was barely tolerable. Why's the drop so long?!"
Halfway there. Come on, don't grip so tight—you'll hurt your hands. No fear—throw your hands up!
She giggled without malice. But thrill-seekers never get why screamers hate it. No 360-degree loops, thankfully. Still, the drop from skyscraper heights at speeds faster than any coaster I'd ridden was insane.
"Aaaahhh!"
Hahaha!
Panic scream versus joy scream. She showed rare emotional rawness, but I had no bandwidth to notice.
Vroooom. The drop finally ended, speed and height normalizing. We'd entered the cityscape. Still high up, but tame compared to the abyss above. Slower too.
Calmer now?
"Way better."
Shame—you could've enjoyed it more.
"Ride it with the bots next time."
No fun with tin cans. Running you along the rails feels like... completing a challenge achievement. That's the vibe.
Achievement unlocked... Yeah, I'd ground out repeats for minor feats before.
More enthusiasm would've been S-rank. Yours? Generous B at best. Such a shame.
"Don't beg for a retry."
We'll see. Hehe.
Things turned more businesslike after. We zipped the rails, inspecting damage repairs and new builds with briefings. Seeing it firsthand hammered home the city's revival. Reports on paper paled next to boots-on-the-ground—or rails, anyway.
Artemis slowed for key spots: explaining facilities or retracing my old paths from the normalization op. Following those sweat-soaked tracks stirred nostalgia.
"All cleaned up. No trace of the infected left."
Plenty of rubble and cracked roads remained. But corpses, bloodstains, flesh chunks—all gone.
Cleaning was priority one. Used most of our acid reserves. Restart hydroponics, and we'll need hands for growing and cleanup.
One corner buzzed with sidewalk and road repairs—mixer trucks and rollers hustling.
"What about those buildings?" I pointed to shops in the commercial district. Neat rows of uniform signs: Korean, Japanese, Chinese food; Western, fast food, chicken, pizza. Shoes, clothes, salons, hospitals, daycare, repair shops. They'd bustle once lower-zone residents filled in.
Indefinite hold. Demolition costs too much, no need anyway. Just leave 'em empty.
"Bittersweet."
Skimming empty streets on the lift felt surreal. Avenues, alleys, building gaps—only silence and wind greeted me.
Full circuit done, she dropped me at the upper-zone main gate. No slow climb back to torture me from the top, at least.
"Not a bad change of pace."
This was just a temp course. Once fully built, I'll call you. It'll be way more fun.
"I'll look forward without high hopes."
No—expect the world. Next time, VR-integrated lift.
"Oh!" Okay, that piqued my interest.
Pausing before heading in, the city looked transformed. Under Artemis's lead, it changed daily. The recent tragedy felt like a lie; tenants could swarm in any second.
The lift ascending slowly to the roof. I'd panicked, but to someone else, it might've been pure fun. Whoever that was, it wouldn't happen now.
Head inside.
"Yeah."
Did she read my mind, or something else? Either way, I didn't watch the lift complete its climb.