Sunlight danced across the deep blue surface of the ocean, the rolling sea rising and falling like a succession of miniature hills.
At midday, the direct rays of the sun turned the water crystal clear and translucent. The coral reefs below seemed to wear a white, web-like veil as schools of fish, large and small, darted through them, perhaps preparing for their upcoming breeding season.
Suddenly, a massive shadow blanketed the coral. The deep blue water churned into white wakes, rippling outward from both sides of a hull.
The cargo ship plowed through the waves. Aside from lacking towering stacks of shipping containers, it looked no different from any standard freighter, except for its wheelhouse. The bridge looked as if it had been violently torn open.
Swoosh—
The ship's iron hull let out a faint, piercing screech of friction, followed by the heavy rushing sound of discharging ballast. Suddenly, the entire vessel lurched abruptly to the port side!
The ship seemed to possess a soul of its own. Realizing it would capsize if it kept listing, it rapidly corrected its course, settling back into a calm equilibrium after a few tense rocking motions.
"Roar?"
Did it work?
Carlo squatted inside the open cargo hold, poking his massive head up to look at the faint, shimmering coastline visible to the left.
The ship's sudden tilt just now was entirely his handiwork. Even though the Primeval Organization had set the vessel to autopilot, Carlo couldn't see the land from down there, and it made him uneasy.
After all, his stamina bar had practically never dropped his entire life!!! Yet it started draining after just a couple of strokes of swimming. To say Carlo was panicking would be a massive understatement.
Thus, before making the journey across the Atlantic, he needed to mentally prepare himself by hugging the coast through the Gulf of Mexico.
Carlo didn't know much about geography; after a long life as a dinosaur, he had forgotten most of what he once knew. When he was young, querying his Super Wisdom would yield a barrage of clever, eccentric ideas. But now?
Carlo: Super Wisdom, what should I do?
Super Wisdom: Quick, use your Super Strength!
Fortunately, he still remembered the general concepts of the Atlantic Ocean and the Gulf of Mexico. He certainly wouldn't do something as foolish as following the coastline only to end up sailing into the Arctic Ocean.
Hmm? A boat?
Carlo suddenly spotted a small vessel anchored dead ahead... a fishing boat, by the looks of it.
He hurriedly yanked his head back into the hold, then began to wriggle his body inch by inch across the deck, utilizing his immense body weight to shift the cargo ship's trajectory.
"Holy—!"
The gargantuan freighter scraped past the fishing boat, missing it by a hair. Because there were only three crew members working aboard the small fishing vessel, none of them had noticed the approaching behemoth until it was right on top of them.
"Are you motherfucking mute?! Learn how to blow a foghorn!"
A deckhand cursed loudly at the receding freighter, but his voice died in his throat as his eyes locked onto the vessel's halved wheelhouse.
What in the world was that?!
"Roar—"
A deafening bellow erupted from the belly of the cargo ship, seemingly in response to the deckhand's shouting, leaving the crew utterly paralyzed with shock.
"A... a ghost ship?"
Clank, whirrr...
A steel cage teeming with a fresh catch of fish began to rise from the side of the fishing boat, but the crew was far too spooked to care about their haul.
"Captain! We've got trouble! It's a ghost ship! Let's head back to port, fast!"
The steel cage dangling off the port side exuded a pungent, fishy odor. Beneath the unmonitored surface of the water, a colossal, dark shadow glided through the depths.
"Aunnng—"
The next instant! The Mosasaurus breached the surface! Locking its jaws onto the steel cage in a vice grip, it dragged it downward, its immense body weight instantaneously flipping the entire fishing boat upside down!
Rushing bubbles.
Submerged beneath the waves, the Mosasaurus tore the steel cage to shreds in two massive bites. Tiny bubbles escaped from the corners of its mouth. It didn't swallow the metal, instead tossing the mangled cage aside. Aside from a few unlucky casualties that swam straight into its gullet, the school of fish regained their freedom.
The taste of rust was unpleasant. The Mosasaurus shook its massive head underwater, refocusing its senses to locate the source of the sound it had heard earlier.
Ever since escaping from Jurassic World, the Mosasaurus had been roaming the vast Pacific, occasionally raiding human fishing boats and living a thoroughly content life.
A while back, bored out of its mind, it had followed a pod of whales into the Atlantic. While floating blissfully on the surface to soak up the sun, it caught the faint vibration of a familiar roar.
It was far away, but the Mosasaurus recognized it instantly.
From that day on, it had been patrolling the coastline, trying to catch that sound once more. Finally, it had picked up the trail here in the Gulf of Mexico.
Carlo's cargo ship sailed onward, entirely unaware that it had just crossed paths with the shadow moving directly beneath the waves. He had no idea the Mosasaurus had traveled thousands of miles for a reunion. He did hear a faint commotion behind him, but it wasn't convenient for him to turn around and check.
It's not like that fishing boat actually flipped over, right?
…
BioSyn Valley. The Dolomite Mountains.
An Arapaima swam lazily through the river channel, accompanied by several of its peers. Having just gorged themselves on a full meal, they were thoroughly enjoying the fine life of a fish.
Countless smaller schools of fish darted around them, though they all maintained a strictly safe distance from the giant river monsters.
A Castoroides dove into the water, slowly padding its way down to the riverbed. It scraped at the mud a few times, sending a cloud of sediment swirling through the crystal-clear water.
One of the Arapaima noticed the little giant beaver and began swimming directly toward it.
Sensing the looming threat, the beaver surfaced rapidly. However, instead of scrambling onto the bank, it swam straight down the center of the channel.
A massive shadow loomed over the water's surface. Two thick... branches? hung down into the river. The little beaver darted right underneath them, with the Arapaima hot on its heels.
But right at that moment! The "branches" snapped down with lightning speed, instantly clamping onto the five-meter-long Arapaima! Its thick scales were pierced, drawing a plume of dark fish blood before it was yanked clean out of the water and slammed violently onto the ground!
It was the ultimate master fisherman: the Spinosaurus!
With practiced efficiency, the Spinosaurus put the Arapaima out of its misery, tore away the thick scales along its flank, and began to feast on the fresh, succulent meat.
A few small beaver dams dotted the shoreline around him. The little Castoroides that had just lured the giant fish scrambled out of the water, shaking the moisture from its fur. It trotted to a spot about ten meters away from the Spinosaurus and sat down to wait.
This riverbank was the Spinosaurus's territory. As a fisherman born of the water, he had his own strict standards. For instance, he despised loose lake weeds and dead branches drifting down his river, and he would clean the channel regularly.
The beaver population, which happened to love small branches, had set up home here because of his habits. However, they knew better than to cross the Spinosaurus, making sure to build their lodges primarily on land.
Over time, the beavers realized this giant neighbor only ate fish, and occasionally left behind scraps and leftovers for them to scavenge. Consequently, they began helping him herd and lure fish whenever he hunted, establishing a bizarre yet effective symbiotic relationship.
"Aunnng-roar—"
An abrupt, soul-piercing cry echoed from the depths of the jungle behind the Spinosaurus. He paused mid-bite, his eyes narrowing with caution as he turned toward the rustling tree line.
If a Tyrannosaurus rex's roar could span miles and strike terror into all creation, this particular cry was one that saturated the forest, mourning and echoing with a lingering, ghostly cadence.
The hollow resonance of that roar carried the suffocating weight of the Grim Reaper claiming a soul.
"Roar?"
The Spinosaurus watched as a prominent sail shifted through the dense foliage, a flash of genuine surprise crossing his features.
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