You are in the swamplands of North America, 75 million years ago.

The river was unusually quiet, the humid air thick with the smell of sulfur and ancient mud. You were paddling your canoe, trying to survey the delta, when the water suddenly felt wrong. The gentle current stopped, and the surface, usually buzzing with insects, went utterly still.

Then, the water erupted.

It wasn’t just a splash; it was an explosion of mud and green-black water. A head, wider than your boat and impossibly long, rose from the depths, its jaws filled with teeth the size of bananas. You barely had time to scream before the Deinosuchus slammed into the side of the canoe, its massive body, likely 35 feet long, intending to overthrow you off…