The air wraps around you like a wet cloak—hot, heavy, humming with tropical life. Above, the sky blazes a brilliant blue; below, the clear teal water shimmers, and deep beneath its glassy surface, you catch the faint, ghostly sweep of a prehistoric tail cutting through the sea.

Half the interns took the helicopter with you; the others sped ahead by boat. As the rotors churn the air, the northern sun pours through the helicopter windows in bright, burning streaks.

The park isn’t even open yet. You and the rest of the selected interns—each plucked from different fields for the “Bright Minds” initiative—are here to help resurrect a dream: design, botany, film and media, security, business, medicine, park operations, animal science. One intern for each specialty. One spark for each new frontier.

Outside, Isla Nublar erupts from the ocean like a green titan, its mountains draped in jungle, its valleys pierced by cranes and half-built structures reaching toward the sun.

The other interns follow your gaze as you press closer to the window. You’re grateful you arrived hours early—bleary, jet-lagged, half conscious—just to claim this seat. Now, with the island rising beneath you, every second of lost sleep feels worth it.

Then you hear it.

A roar. Deep. Ancient. Rolling up from the jungle like thunder made of muscle and memory.

Your heart stutters. You’ve heard rumors—clips online, grainy silhouettes—but you never truly believed. Yet here it is.

A real, living, full-sized T-Rex.

“Holy shit,” you whisper. “Holy shit.”

Theo—his name tag tells you what his quiet expression does not—leans close to the window too. Dark curls tumble across pale skin as his green eyes flash with reflected sunlight.

The helicopter shudders, as if the machine itself trembles at the sound. “Okay. Now that is pretty cool,” he says, voice low with awe.