The plane taxied along the makeshift temporary runway, touching down on Isla Nublar, an island that inspired as much profound longing as it did physical suffocation.
Claire stepped through the open cabin door and scanned her surroundings. The area was swarming with teammates clad in mercenary gear, their numbers far exceeding her expectations.
Hmm... if this were Isla Sorna, even the "God of War" Spinosaurus might think twice about showing its face against a crowd like this.
"Claire."
The head of the rescue team, a seasoned veteran hunter, appeared to have been waiting for some time. He tipped the brim of his hat in a brief, professional salute.
"I didn't realize the rescue operation would be on this scale," Claire remarked, stepping down from the plane to shake the mercenary leader's hand.
"Ken Wheatley. Welcome back," he introduced himself. He glanced back at his men, who were busy attending to captured dinosaurs in the distance. "Mr. Lockwood takes this humanitarian mission very seriously. Has our 'Raptor Cowboy' arrived?"
"He's an Animal Behaviorist," a voice corrected.
Zia and Franklin showed no interest in small talk, heading straight to the side to prepare the equipment they'd need. Owen, bringing up the rear of the group, responded to Wheatley's jab.
"Owen Grady."
"Ken Wheatley."
As they introduced themselves, Owen couldn't resist a retort of his own. "Are you the legendary 'Great White Hunter' I've heard so much about?"
"Something like that. I'm the Expedition Guide."
The atmosphere between them seemed civil enough. Surely, the rest of the mission would proceed just as smoothly... wouldn't it?
"Oh my gosh, it is way too hot here."
Standing nearby, Franklin peeled off his jacket and wiped the sweat from his brow. He'd only worn it to avoid catching a cold from the plane's air conditioning; he was, if nothing else, meticulously protective of his own health.
Owen glanced at him, then looked toward the volcano belching black smoke into the sky.
"It's going to get a lot worse soon."
The volcanic plumes blanketed the heavens, beginning to descend and shroud the entire island in a suffocating, breathless haze.
"Things can change in a heartbeat. We'd better move now..."
Before Ken, the Expedition Guide, could finish his sentence, the volcano unleashed a heaven-shaking roar. A fountain of molten lava surged at the crater's mouth, cascading and spilling over the rim.
"ROOOAR—"
But immediately following it, another roar erupted from the horizon. It lacked the earth-shaking volume of the volcano, yet the sound seemed to pierce through the very soul. It forced the heads of every living creature low, striking a chord of primal dread deep within their hearts.
The ground vibrated slightly, causing Franklin to jump and let out a startled yelp.
"What was that?! Is the volcano erupting?!"
No one paid him any mind. The tremor lasted only a fraction of a second before vanishing.
Owen looked at the ground, then back at the relatively stable volcano, lost in thought for a moment.
That wasn't the volcano.
…
In front of Carlo, a massive footprint had been slammed into the solid earth, causing the surrounding ground to fracture like a spiderweb.
Lava attempted to creep toward his position, but its progress was slowed by the widening fissures in the terrain.
"Aunnng—"
Behind Carlo, the cries of herbivorous dinosaurs rose in succession.
It was a slow-moving procession. Aside from the Brachiosaurus, who were physically incapable of sprinting, most were the old, the weak, or the sick, creatures suffering from fractures or injuries sustained during the natural disasters or other struggles.
Abandoned juveniles and elderly herbivores nearing the end of their lives were mixed among them. Without exception, they were all struggling toward the south, away from the volcano, fighting for a chance at survival.
"ROAR!"
From the distance came the loud, commanding call of Giga Dad. Carlo took a deep breath and steeled his resolve.
No matter what these herbivores had endured, as long as they still had the will to live, even if their chances of survival were near zero, Carlo would choose to help them.
[Name: Carlo]
[Species: Giganotosaurus carolinii]
[Available Points: 10]
[Health: 250,043.6 / 280,960]
[Stamina: 750 / 750]
[Oxygen: 510 / 510]
[Food: 10,580 / 10,600]
[Weight: 0 / 898]
[Melee Damage: 1,290%]
[Torpor: 0 / 143,800.5]
This time, he gathered every ounce of his strength and hoisted his right foot high, nearly tucking it against his underbelly!
THUD—
A dull, heavy boom echoed as an invisible shockwave erupted! The earth wailed under the pressure, causing the fleeing herbivores to stumble and fall.
A deeper, more violent crater appeared abruptly in the flat terrain, forcing the cracks to expand and tear outward. The lava hit the chasm as if encountering an impassable moat; it poured into the depths of the fissure, its forward momentum halted.
"ROOOAR—"
Carlo let out another sky-shattering roar toward the heavens, standing like a living fortress wall between the cataclysm and the dinosaurs.
Then, he turned. He watched the Brachiosaurus lower their bodies to maintain balance and the smaller herbivores scramble up from the dirt, following in the wake of the giants as they continued their migration toward the higher ground of the southern mountains.
The lava could no longer catch them.
After watching them for a moment, Carlo turned and began his trek north, returning to his family.
…
"Arrived at the Great Lake. No sign of the target yet."
After many years, human footprints once again marked the shores of the Great Lake. But this time, it wasn't for destruction, by accident, or for an attack, they were truly there to save the dinosaurs.
"The Giganotosaurus... and a lot of the others are gone."
Inside a Jeep, a staff member scanned the shores of the lake with binoculars.
"Notify the main force. Do not head into the Primeval Ecological Zone... one squad is enough for this area."
"Copy that."
This was a scout team. Without the dinosaur tracking data yet, they had to rely on drones and primitive tracking methods.
"Bzzzt... static... Hive to Scout, target spotted. A Giganotosaurus is leading a herd of herbivores toward the north of the island. It's absolutely damn spectacular. We're gonna need more hands."
The message crackled over the public channel, calling all scout teams to regroup.
"Hey, you hear that? Get down from the sunroof, we're heading back."
"Wait... give me the radio!"
The driver called out to his teammate watching from above, but the man's voice was filled with sudden excitement. Confused, the driver handed him the radio.
"Spotted one in the Primeval Ecological Zone... a Tyrannosaurus? It looks a bit different from our target. Might be a new one born in the last four years."
"Copy. We'll dispatch a CH-47 for transport. Tranquilizing is on you, Scout Team Four."
The volcano continued to bleed crimson lava, a faint, rhythmic rumbling hidden within the roar. The dinosaur rescue operation was proceeding with mechanical precision.
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