"Aunnng!"
The startled cry of a Pachyrhinosaurus rang out. As it charged toward Karl, it was suddenly jerked back by a colossal force, the scenery in its vision receding rapidly.
Rrip—
The skin on its tail tore open. Dragged backward uncontrollably, its four legs failed to keep pace with the speed of the pull. It eventually toppled, sliding across the earth. The gash on its flank acted like a crimson brush, leaving a long, smeared trail of blood on the ground.
Before it could struggle back up, Giga Dad slammed a massive foot onto its side, using his immense weight to pin the creature down.
"Roar—"
Giga Dad let out a low huff, calling the two youngsters over.
Katyusha, who had been headbutted earlier, scrambled to her feet. She and Karl circled to the Pachyrhinosaurus's belly and began to tear into it with feral intensity.
After a long while, during which viscera and blood pooled on the soil, the Pachyrhinosaurus fainted from the agony, woke again from the pain, and finally drew its last breath, falling completely still.
If this had been the old Carlo, he would have gone straight for the throat.
It seemed these Giganotosaurus didn't have much experience hunting ceratopsians; they still preferred their standard tactic for large herbivores: exsanguination, letting the prey bleed out.
Well... Kafka would likely have made the same choice as Carlo. After all, her hunting techniques were learned directly from him.
"Roar—"
Giga Dad roared again, signaling the two to stop. He leaned down and bit into the Pachyrhinosaurus's spine, beginning a demonstration on the proper way to dismantle a carcass.
The sky was beginning to yellow as the sun burst forth with a more intense, late-afternoon glow. The black smoke in the sky remained constant, creeping and spreading toward the horizon.
Soon, the three Giganotosaurus were trekking back toward their original territory, each clutching chunks of meat of varying sizes.
"Purr-grumble..."
With meat still in his jaws, Giga Dad vibrated his throat to emit low rumblings, conversing with the two little ones.
Their hunt hadn't started poorly, it was actually near-perfect, but they had failed because of their subsequent arrogance. Katyusha's attempt to bite the head-frill was no different from walking straight into the enemy's strike zone.
Until the prey is dead, any lapse into contempt is forbidden.
As for Karl, he had played like a complete bot at the end, actually trying to tank the Pachyrhinosaurus's charge head-on. What? Do you think you're a Tyrannosaurus rex? Do you have their weight? Are your bones as dense as theirs? What happens if you snap a leg?
As a Giganotosaurus, the focus should be on wearing the opponent down, not using brute force to crush bone and end the fight like a Rex.
The old man wondered just who the boy had been learning from.
Elsewhere, Carlo, who was currently drinking, let out a sudden sneeze. Lake water sprayed directly out of his nostrils, leaving him in a state of visible discomfort.
(Think of a hognose snake sneezing.)
Brother Stegosaurus, witnessing this, actually paused his drinking. He shot Carlo a bizarre look, shifted a few paces further away from him, and went back to his water.
Concerned with his dignity, Carlo refrained from rolling on the ground, squirming, or performing a "Splash" attack in front of Giga Mom and Kafka, even though Kafka had already seen him do it before.
However, the sensation of water in his nasal passages was so unpleasant that he couldn't stop shaking his head, trying to fling the irritation away.
Scientificus Tyrannosaurus, who had wandered back to the Great Lake at some unknown point, lay by the shore. It opened its mouth slightly, emitting an indistinguishable sound. It seemed to find Carlo's current predicament quite amusing.
Noticing the commotion, Carlo slammed his tail against the ground in frustration, the impact startling Kafka awake.
If his nose weren't bothering him so much, he would have roared back to reclaim his pride.
Suddenly, Carlo stopped his tail-thumping mid-swing.
He quietly hunkered back down next to Giga Mom and stared into the distance. He had sensed four familiar scents entering the Primeval Ecological Zone.
Kafka, who communicated with Carlo the least but understood him the best, realized instantly that something was wrong.
Why did the Boss suddenly stop acting like a clown? Something's up!
Her lingering morning grumpiness vanished instantly. She lifted her body and looked in the same direction as Carlo, though the Triceratops skull perched on her head made her look slightly less than majestic.
?
Why is my vision so narrow? What is obscuring my eyes?
Kafka finally remembered she was wearing a "headpiece." She gave her head a vigorous shake, sent the skull tumbling away.
Rustle...
The bushes swayed, and Blue lifted her head, looking toward Carlo.
Her throat vibrated with a low, submissive chirp. Following her, Charlie, Delta, and Echo poked their heads out of the brush one by one.
Charlie followed Blue's lead, looking toward Carlo but avoiding direct eye contact. Delta and Echo watched him as well, their heads tilted slightly as if they were whispering to each other.
Seeing that Carlo was simply watching them without aggression, Blue tentatively stepped out of the treeline, fully revealing herself on the open ground by the lake.
They didn't try to approach Carlo's position. Instead, they skirted the edge of the Great Lake, running all the way to the area the Albertosaurus had occupied before their departure, and settled there.
Carlo had no particular reaction. He simply lay down slowly, his sense of smell locked onto the four raptors.
…
"This is nothing short of murder."
In the Special Committee chamber, the gallery was in an uproar. Ian Malcolm, the legendary king of pressure, sat at the front, insisting that the dinosaurs be left to their fate.
"Order," the chairman called out, maintaining decorum and signaling Malcolm to continue.
"While the outcome is indeed heart-wrenching... we have already altered the course of natural history. This is a golden opportunity to correct the mistakes of our past."
"Are you suggesting... that this disaster is an act of God?" a Senator questioned, his expression strained as he tried to figure out how to phrase his rebuttal without offending a particular demographic.
"With all due respect, Senator, 'God' is not a part of the biological system of checks and balances."
Fortunately, Malcolm resolved the issue from an objective standpoint, glossing over the sensitive terminology.
"What I mean is... over the past year, we have accumulated era-defining technological power. But at the same time, we have proven repeatedly that we cannot control that power."
He paused, offering an analogy.
"Eighty years ago, who could have predicted the risks of nuclear proliferation? And yet, it happened."
"Now, we hold the power of the genome. How long will it take for this to proliferate globally? And what will people do with that power?"
He lowered his voice as he gave the answer.
"Humanity will never stop at simply resurrecting extinct dinosaurs."
The Senator frowned. "I'm sorry, I don't follow."
Malcolm sighed.
"What I am saying is that human action can cause cataclysmic change."
"What kind of change?"
"The kind that is destructive. And humans will never realize what they are facing until the catastrophe is already upon them."
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