1-The Invitation

 Adán Alvarez – Mexico City, Mexico

Adán Alvarez had always been good at waiting. Maybe it was his habit of tuning out distractions, or maybe it was just that he liked to observe before he acted. Either way, patience was second nature to him—until he got bored.

Slouched in his office chair at the DPW’s Mexico City branch, he bounced a rubber ball lazily against the far wall, watching it rebound with practiced precision. His office was a mess—papers scattered across his desk, a half-eaten empanada wrapped in foil, and a laptop buried under dinosaur tracking reports. A single monitor flickered with live surveillance feeds from tracking stations scattered across Mexico, displaying heat signatures of dinosaurs roaming too close to civilization.

His phone buzzed against his desk. Then again.

He grabbed it, expecting another routine report. Instead, his brows lifted at the subject line:

"Invitation to Joint DPW Exercise – Costa Rica."

Costa Rica? His pulse ticked up a notch as he opened the email. The details were vague: a multi-national DPW training exercise, invitation-only, purpose undisclosed. He read it twice, eyes narrowing.

It wasn’t phrased as a recruitment effort, but something about it felt off. If this was just another training operation, why was it pulling people from all over the world?

He leaned back in his chair, tossing the ball once more. Then, with a smirk, he typed his response:

Count me in.

—

Renata "Ren" Expósito – Madrid, Spain

Renata Expósito didn’t do well with routine. She thrived on action, on adrenaline, on proving she was the best at what she did. So when she found herself stuck in a coffee shop, waiting for a briefing that had been pushed back for the third time that week, she was already restless.

Slouched at an outdoor table near DPW Madrid, she stirred the foam in her espresso with the back of her spoon, barely paying attention to the map of dinosaur sightings glowing on her tablet screen. Her dark, short hair was in its usual messy state, her shirt slightly wrinkled, her boots still scuffed from a field op two days ago.

Her phone vibrated. She checked it, expecting an assignment. Instead, she saw:

"Invitation to Joint DPW Exercise – Costa Rica."

She straightened, frowning slightly as she skimmed the email. An international training exercise? Not just field agents, either—scientists, tech specialists, admin personnel. That was unusual.

Her fingers tapped idly against the edge of the table as she read between the lines. They were pulling from different DPW divisions, different skill sets. But for what?

Her lips curled into a smirk as she typed her reply. Accepted.

Whatever it was, she was going to win.

—

Emma Guillard – Paris, France

The hum of servers filled the air in the DPW’s Paris research facility, a sound that Emma Guillard found oddly comforting. It was predictable, constant—unlike the creatures she studied.

She adjusted her glasses and continued typing, her fingers moving methodically over the keyboard. The screen in front of her displayed a complex algorithm predicting the migration patterns of a small population of Compsognathus in southern France. It was delicate work, but she liked it that way. Data made sense. People, less so.

A soft chime from her email broke her concentration. She clicked it open without much thought, but her eyes flickered in surprise at the subject line:

"Invitation to Joint DPW Exercise – Costa Rica."

Her posture stiffened. A training operation? Why her? She wasn’t a field agent.

She reread the email, scanning for details that weren’t there. The way it was worded struck her as odd—deliberately vague. They weren’t just gathering personnel for a drill. They were selecting. Testing.

Emma wasn’t one to jump into uncertainty, but she also wasn’t one to ignore patterns. If this was an opportunity to be part of something bigger, she wouldn’t turn it down.

She clicked Accept.

—

Franz Pietsch – Berlin, Germany

Franz Pietsch had worked in crisis management long enough to recognize a logistical headache when he saw one.

The DPW’s Berlin branch operated with ruthless efficiency, and he made sure of it. His office was a reflection of that—spotless, perfectly organized. The only sound was the faint ticking of a clock on the wall as he reviewed reports detailing upcoming containment efforts.

His phone buzzed. He read the email slowly, carefully.

"Invitation to Joint DPW Exercise – Costa Rica."

Franz’s first instinct was skepticism. An international operation with personnel from different divisions? It was impractical.

And yet, something about it bothered him. This wasn’t standard protocol. They were handpicking people, and he doubted it was random.

He adjusted his glasses, considering. If they were assembling a team, he needed to know why. And if he was involved, things would be done properly.

His reply was brief: Accepted.

—

Sophia Bianchi – Rome, Italy

Sophia Bianchi was used to being overlooked. That was how she liked it.

Sitting in the back corner of the DPW Rome tech lab, surrounded by tangled cables and half-finished code, she felt at home. The world outside was too unpredictable—here, everything made sense.

She nearly ignored the email when it popped up. But the subject line caught her attention:

"Invitation to Joint DPW Exercise – Costa Rica."

She hesitated, biting the edge of her thumb as she scanned the message. Why her?

It didn’t read like a standard training invite. It wasn’t just field agents—there were admin workers, scientists, tech experts. A mix. And that meant something.

Her stomach twisted, but she forced herself to type a response. Accepted.

Her hands were shaking slightly as she hit send.

She hated the unknown. But for some reason, she couldn’t bring herself to say no.

—

Helena Silva – São Paulo, Brazil

Helena Silva wasn’t used to offices. She spent most of her time in field stations, up to her elbows in mud or hunched over fossil samples under a portable microscope. The clean, fluorescent-lit hallway of the DPW São Paulo branch made her itch to get back outside.

She stood by the window in a borrowed lab coat, arms crossed, watching the heat haze ripple off the concrete courtyard below. The Brazilian summer pressed against the glass, thick and heavy. Her tablet buzzed quietly on the desk behind her.

She almost didn’t check it. But curiosity got the better of her.

"Invitation to Joint DPW Exercise – Costa Rica."

Her brows furrowed as she scanned the message. It wasn’t just for field agents—it was for scientists too. A joint operation with staff from different countries, different departments. The wording was careful, the details sparse. Evaluation, collaboration, selection.

Helena glanced at the fossil fragment she’d been examining earlier, now forgotten on the table—a dinosaur vertebra, chipped and worn from age and time. Ancient life, disturbed and dug up again. It reminded her of something—but she wasn’t sure what.

She read the email again, then looked out the window.

Costa Rica. A new environment, new people. A chance to prove herself. 

She tapped out a response, steady and brief. 

Accepted.

And just like that, the world shifted beneath her feet.

—