Prologue

 The Department of Prehistoric Wildlife (DPW) was established in 2019, one year after the infamous dinosaur outbreak at Lockwood Manor. What was once confined to the secrecy of laboratories and isolated islands had spilled into the open world, disrupting ecosystems, economies, and lives in ways no one had ever anticipated. For decades, dinosaurs had been the product of scientific ambition, controlled—at least in theory—by the corporations that brought them back from extinction. That illusion of control shattered the moment they walked freely on the mainland. Governments scrambled for solutions, but the world had changed overnight. No longer a distant marvel or horror, dinosaurs were a global reality.

The DPW emerged as the primary force tasked with handling the crisis, taking on everything from relocation and containment to tracking and, when necessary, lethal intervention. Their mission was clear: to manage the unprecedented resurgence of prehistoric life while ensuring public safety. Yet, despite their best efforts, the situation has only grown more precarious.

Now, the world teeters on the edge of a new era. Coexistence is no longer a theoretical debate but a daily struggle. The dinosaur population continues to rise, spreading far beyond the initial zones of activity. What began as sporadic encounters has become a near-constant threat, with incidents increasing at a staggering rate—five occurring in the Americas for every one in Europe or Asia. Once limited to remote wildernesses and abandoned sectors, dinosaurs have begun pushing into urban territories, forcing entire communities to adapt or flee.

At the heart of the crisis, within the DPW’s central command, Commander Raul Reyes sits at the head of a long, polished table, surrounded by the organization's board of directors. The air in the room is thick with tension, the soft hum of the holographic displays the only background noise as reports flood the screens before them. Satellite imagery, grainy security footage, and emergency broadcasts paint a grim picture of a world struggling to keep up.

A map sprawled across the table highlights major incident zones. The western United States is riddled with red markers: a Tyrannosaurus sighting near the outskirts of Phoenix, a cluster of Velociraptors moving through the forests of Oregon. South America’s situation is even worse—predators like Atrociraptors and Pyroraptors have made themselves at home in the dense jungles, while herbivores trample farmland, disrupting local economies. In Canada, frost-covered footage reveals a herd of Nasutoceratops navigating through the Rocky Mountains, their breath visible in the cold air. Meanwhile, along the coasts, fishermen report terrifying encounters with massive marine reptiles—some suspected to be Mosasaurus, others species the world has yet to properly document.

Among the directors seated at the table, concern is evident. Santiago Vega, an Argentine representative with silver-streaked black hair and deep-set brown eyes, studies the data with a tense expression. His expertise in field operations has made him a vocal advocate for more aggressive containment efforts, yet even he understands the DPW is stretched too thin.

Beside him, Dr. Evelyn Carter, a British scientist in her mid-forties with sharp blue eyes and short auburn hair, examines the figures with growing unease. She has long warned of the exponential growth rate of these creatures, yet her concerns were often met with skepticism. Now, the numbers speak for themselves, and the margin for error has disappeared.

Across from them, Malik Okoye, a Nigerian logistics expert with a lean build and graying beard, scrolls through the latest resource reports. His decades of experience in crisis management tell him the truth—this operation is unsustainable. Without a drastic change in approach, the DPW will soon be overwhelmed.

On the main screen, a new initiative is displayed. Discussions about a large-scale field exercise have been ongoing for months, but the urgency of the situation now demands immediate action. A joint operation will bring together agents, scientists, and specialists from DPW branches worldwide. The location: Costa Rica. The mission: to build an elite task force capable of handling the escalating crisis.

The operation is ambitious, a calculated risk that could either sharpen their forces or expose their weaknesses. Those selected will undergo rigorous testing—physically, mentally, and strategically. Only the best will make it through. The specifics remain classified, known only to a select few. But one thing is certain: failure is not an option.

The events that follow take place in November 2026, within a classified DPW facility at an undisclosed location of the Costa Rican jungle.