The car wound past towering pines before coming to a halt in front of an estate that was ancient in style yet impeccably maintained. Despite the secluded atmosphere, far removed from the bustle of civilization, a pristine asphalt road led directly to the manor, clearly a private thoroughfare constructed solely for the estate's service.
Claire Dearing adjusted her attire and stepped with elegant precision toward the British-style architecture.
Ding-dong~
Almost the instant the doorbell chimed, the heavy doors were opened by a waiting attendant to welcome the guest who had traveled so far.
"Ms. Dearing, you've arrived quite early. Please, come in."
The housekeeper's skin was etched with wrinkles, giving her the appearance of a woman well into her twilight years, yet her spirit was that of a driven middle-aged woman. There wasn't a hint of the lethargy typically associated with old age.
"I shall inform Mr. Mills of your arrival."
With that, the housekeeper gestured for Claire to feel free to look around, then clasped her hands in front of her in a formal servant's posture and departed.
Tap, tap, tap...
The rhythmic click of leather soles echoed against the wooden floors. Claire politely watched her leave, waiting until she was entirely out of sight before beginning to take in the interior of the villa.
It felt... empty.
It wasn't that the villa lacked substance; on the contrary, the interior decor was masterfully designed. However, the atmosphere was so desolate that the massive house felt as though it saw fewer than ten visitors a year.
"Is that..."
Claire's pace faltered. She turned toward a wall adorned with portraits. Stopping a few meters away, her gaze landed on the largest oil painting, a full-body portrait.
The man in the painting sat on a sofa with his legs crossed, possessing a shock of white hair, a matching beard, and a cane held firmly in his hand. It was none other than John Hammond.
"John Alfred Hammond. The founder of Jurassic Park, though I'm sure I don't need to tell you that."
A young man's voice drifted down from the second floor, drawing Claire's attention.
"Hello, Claire. I'm Eli Mills. Benjamin Lockwood is my employer. We actually met once about seven or eight years ago, though I doubt you'd remember."
Mills spoke with a rapid-fire cadence, explaining himself as he descended the stairs toward her.
"Of course I remember. It was when you took over his foundation."
"I was still a college student back then. Spot on, you do have a memory."
For an outsider like Mills to navigate Lockwood's private estate with such unhindered authority, he clearly possessed exceptional capabilities.
"He wanted someone young and idealistic to manage his estate. Back then, I fit both criteria."
He exchanged light pleasantries with Claire, his joking manner successfully drawing a smile from her before he led her further into the manor.
"Follow me. Let me give you a bit of history first."
He walked ahead, guiding Claire into areas she hadn't yet explored.
"This is where it all began."
The main hall, which spanned two stories, had been converted into a private dinosaur museum. Four distinct skeletons stood in the four corners, while the center of the hall was dominated by a massive Triceratops skull... though it was notably smaller than the one in Carlo's personal collection.
Along the walls were excavated display cases resembling biological specimens. Dinosaur models, prosthetics, and reconstructed ecological dioramas breathed life into the room.
"Isla Nublar, Isla Sorna, Jurassic Park... those all came later. It was right here, in the laboratory built in the basement beneath our feet, that Hammond and Lockwood first extracted dinosaur DNA from amber."
"What they created here was a miracle."
It was Claire's first time seeing such an installation outside of a public museum. She turned, taking in the surroundings, but didn't forget to respond.
"To this day, I still believe that."
"I couldn't agree more."
"I still maintain that humanity shouldn't be indifferent to the fate of these animals."
Sensing that the conversation could loop indefinitely, she steered it toward the primary objective.
"Claire... Mr. Lockwood has a request for you. Consider it a favor for an old friend."
Mills didn't answer directly, matching her pivot toward the main topic.
"We have a piece of land, naturally protected on all sides. The dinosaurs could live there in safety and autonomy."
He led Claire to the rear of the hall, where a massive scale model of an island, roughly three meters by three meters, was displayed.
"You plan to take the dinosaurs off Isla Nublar... to save them?"
"No, Ms. Dearing."
As Claire spoke with Mills, an aged voice drifted from behind her.
It was Benjamin Lockwood. He sat in a wheelchair, the housekeeper from earlier standing beside him. However, the old gentleman seemed fiercely independent; he rolled the wheels himself, refusing any assistance.
"I'm just trying to save ourselves... We still have a chance at redemption... don't we?"
Lockwood cradled his cane, topped with the iconic mosquito-in-amber, as he rolled to a stop in front of Claire.
"It is a pleasure to see you."
"The pleasure is mine, Mr. Lockwood."
Claire shook the old man's hand and waited for him to continue.
"This was a vision Hammond and I once shared: to let the dinosaurs live in peace. That is why we established this sanctuary so long ago. No fences, no cages, no tourists... only nature as it was intended to be."
There was a faint sound from the second floor. Claire glanced up briefly, catching the blur of a dark shadow darting past.
"John said something once that was very true... these creatures don't need our protection. What they need is to be left alone."
Lockwood stroked the amber on his cane, lost in deep memory.
"When we were young... we were so full of passion. How naive we were, wanting to run before we could even walk. Is that a universal flaw of the young?"
"We achieved success in the end, but we couldn't go the distance together. We went our separate ways."
"Life often brings us painful lessons, doesn't it, Claire?"
Claire froze, seemingly haunted by a bitter memory of her own. She replied softly:
"Yes. You're right."
The air grew heavy with silence. The housekeeper took the opportunity to lean in and remind him.
"Sir Benjamin?"
She stepped forward to take control of the wheelchair.
"Oh, damn it. I have to go take those pills again. Please excuse me, Claire."
"Of course, sir."
"Eli will walk you through the specifics... We will get them out. It is the best gift we can leave for the next generation."
As he passed Claire, Lockwood reached out and took her hand again, part promise and part plea.
"Thank you."
Claire watched him depart before Mills, standing beside her, broke the silence.
"Shall we get started, then?"