Cicadas shrill in the canopy, thick vines twist like grasping hands, and the air drips heavy with the scent of wet earth and something metallic, something sharp. The park had the closed, isolated areas, but the ecosystem was still alive beneath all the concrete walls. A man reaches the perimeter fence, tension wires humming softly with enough voltage to take down an elephant.

He’s dressed in loose cargo pants and a half-buttoned shirt, the sleeves rolled up against the humidity. His boots sink into the damp soil, but his steps are silent, careful. Peppered on his skin, scars on his forearms spoke of close calls, of teeth and claws and instincts sharpened to a killing edge by the same creatures he'd raised. A lanyard hung around his neck, battered with time—ID badge faded, name smudged, but the title still visible.

Dr. Satoru Gojo. Lead Biologist, Velociraptor Program.