Liam sat on the edge of his bed, the freshly materialized leather-bound folio open in his hands.
He turned each page carefully, his fingers brushing against embossed seals and platinum ink that glimred faintly in the light of the chandelier.
The words written across the docunts were clear enough, but his mind struggled to catch up with their aning.
Owner: Liam Scott.
Asset: Airbus A380 Flying Palace.
Status: Delivered — Hangar 14, Imperial Terminal, South Side of Los Angeles International Airport.
His eyes kept scanning the sa words over and over as though repetition would sohow make them less absurd.
"...A Flying Palace," He said the words softly, almost a whisper, as if speaking them aloud might shatter the illusion.
This wasn’t a Gulfstream or a Bombardier. This wasn’t even a Boeing Business Jet, the kind favored by heads of state.
This was an Airbus A380 — the largest passenger aircraft ever built. A double-decked, four-engine colossus, bigger than Air Force One itself.
And unlike the concept sketched in glossy brochures back in 2007 for a Saudi prince, this one wasn’t a dream that died in committee. This one existed. And it was his.
Liam leaned back against the headboard, mories of what he had once read about the aircraft stirring in his mind.
The "Flying Palace" project had been commissioned nearly two decades ago. The idea was bold, even ludicrous: to take the world’s biggest airliner and turn it into a private skyborne palace. It was ant to have bedrooms, spas, boardrooms, a garage for cars.
It had all sounded like the stuff of fantasy and it was as the plan for the plane never left the drawing board.
So said the prince balked at the cost. Others said it was an engineering nightmare, a logistical quagmire. Besides, comrcial airlines themselves were already struggling with the A380’s massive expenses, which contributed to the production for the entire line ceasing in 2021.
Thus the dream was abandoned. At least, for everyone else.
Now here it was, resurrected and real. And not just real, but also tailored, refined and perfected just for him.
Liam flipped through the next page, his eyes widening as specifications scrolled down in neat lines.
Exterior and Range
The first note: Exterior paintwork: Platinum and Obsidian Black, custom striping.
He could almost see it. He has already gotten used to seeing platinum for the past two weeks, and he could already imagine the tallic shimr of platinum streaks running across the obsidian body of the aircraft.
"Just the image of it in my head is already insane. How much more the real deal?" He muttered softly, as he continued reading.
The aircraft also has extended range tanks giving it more than 15,000 kiloters nonstop, which is enough to fly from Los Angeles to Tokyo and to London without refueling.
It has more features like its noise and vibration dampening systems which will make the cabin so silent that when standing inside, it could be mistaken for standing in a penthouse apartnt.
EMP-hardened avionics, triple redundancy systems, radar jamrs, directional counterasures.
eting Room with soundproofing, secure comms and real-ti satellite feeds. Also allowing Liam to call anyone securely worldwide.
"These... These are the sa security modifications as Air Force One!" Liam said softly in shock.
He turned to the section on interiors, and his breath hitched slightly.
Penthouse Suite. A master bedroom almost as large as his room at the Bellere Mansion, complete with a marble bath, walk-in closet, and even a skylight do.
A War Room. A conference space fitted with soundproofing, secure satellite comms, and live satellite feeds. The kind of room where generals would plan wars.
A dical Bay. Not just one with first aid kit, but a clinic-level facility, complete with teledicine links, ergency supplies, even a small surgical setup.
A Private Cinema. A lounge-bar-theater hybrid, with reclining seats and acoustic systems that could put most Hollywood venues to sha.
A Dining Hall. Staffed by two Michelin-starred chefs, already under contract to his na. Their job? Ready to prepare any dish he wanted at 40,000 feet.
A Spa. Complete with sauna, massage tables, a compact gym, and a relaxation suite.
And the detail that made him blink twice — an Observation Deck. Reinforced glass, panoramic views stretching across the sky. A literal lounge in the heavens.
Liam exhaled slowly, lowering the page.
"System... this is insane."
He flipped to another page and couldn’t help but laugh softly.
Three-car garage space, complete with lift and ramp system.
A plane... with a garage.
He imagined driving his cars up the ramp, parking it neatly inside while the engines roared and the aircraft prepared for takeoff.
He imagined stepping out onto the runway in another country, car waiting below, rolling into the streets of Paris or Tokyo as if he had teleported there.
Not even heads of state have this, he thought, shaking his head.
But then ca the page that made him freeze again.
Total project cost: $1.2 billion USD.
Liam swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry.
One-point-two billion.
This was the kind of number that even governnts themselves would debated over before spending on an aircraft.
And that was just the purchase and modification cost because the aircraft was newly built, and was delivered directly from the manufacturer.
Liam’s eyes slid to the next page, where estimates for operating costs were broken down.
Annual Maintenance and Crew Costs: $35 million.
Fuel Costs (average yearly usage): $15–20 million.
Insurance: $10 million.
Hangar and Storage: $5 million.
Miscellaneous (compliance, permits, upgrades): $5–10 million.
Total annual operating cost for a Flying Palace: $70–80 million.
Liam stared at the figures in shock.
"Seventy million... a year... just to keep it flying."
He could already imagine the billionaires of the world — princes, oil magnates, tycoons — bleeding money every single month just to keep their toys aloft. It made sense why no one had ever tried again after 2007. Even the richest hated endless hemorrhaging.
But Liam’s was different and he realised this when he turned the page, as he froze again.
All operating costs prepaid.
Fuel: unlimited.
Maintenance: handled by manufacturer directly under perpetual contract.
Insurance: global liability coverage, lifeti.
Crew and staffing: salaries covered.
Liam blinked rapidly, his breath growing heavy in his throat.
So that was the twist?
Unlike the billionaires who bled millions each month to keep their vanity projects airborne, Liam’s Flying Palace ca with everything prepaid.
Fuel. Crew. Maintenance. Insurance. Hangars. Permits. Every single burden had been stripped away and all that was left for him was the privilege.
Liam laughed softly in disbelief. He was already thinking of how he was going to manage the operating cost — not that it would be an issue for him as he could easily make the money with his omni-science knowledge, but it was still sothing to worry about.
"...The system really doesn’t play fair."
The system has already taken care of the flight crew and all the necessary staffing. All he just needs to do is to board the aircraft at his own leisure ti.
Liam smiled to himself once more as he imagined what his first flight experience on the aircraft would be like.
It will be thrilling, no doubt.
Closing the folio slowly, Liam dropped it onto the bed beside him.
He sat there for a long mont, staring at the docunts as his thoughts spiraled.
The Airbus A380 Flying Palace wasn’t just another toy. It wasn’t even just another reward.
It was more than that and has far reaching real world implications. And one of those implications was that his life will no longer be simple again.
Even with serious NDAs Airbus signed, it doesn’t stop the fact that once the jet is seen in public, dia frenzy would spike, driving both curiosity and suspicion. He will attract global dia attention.
Liam sighed heavily as he thought of it. He could already imagine the headache he will receive when he makes public with the aircraft.
But he didn’t focus on the negatives. Paparazzi was unavoidable but it doesn’t take anything away from the benefits the aircraft brings.
Owning it ant he could fly anywhere in the world, at any ti, without ever needing clearance from anyone. It ant etings in London, dinners in Tokyo, mornings in New York, whenever he wants.
It ant influence. What world leader wouldn’t take note of a teenager arriving in a palace bigger than their own presidential jets?
It also ant geopolitical leverage as countries would quietly compete for the honor (or necessity) of granting it priority landing rights.
And it ant symbolism. The jet was a crown. A declaration. And proof that Liam Scott wasn’t just wealthy. He was untouchable and in a category of his own.
But the biggest of them all was perception. Because sotis, perception matters more than actual use. Owning the aircraft would create an aura of inevitability around his influence.
Liam sighed heavily once more as he pushed the thought about the aircraft to the back of his mind, and picked up the car’s docunt from the bed.
Vision rcedes-Maybach 6 Cabriolet Imperium.
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