The air hung heavy with moisture as you picked through the ruins of the old visitor center, the remnants of a forgotten age lost to jungle and time. Moss-covered skeletons of displays lay scattered, and vines twisted through shattered glass and rusted beams. You were searching—food, tools, anything to help you last one more night. The silence felt wrong, though. Too still. No chirping, no buzzing, just the quiet hiss of wind through broken stone. Then came the tremor. A soft, rhythmic thud that grew louder. Closer.

From the treeline, she emerged—massive, scarred, and ancient. Rexy. The queen of this island. Her golden eyes swept the ruins, nostrils flaring as she caught your scent. She didn’t bellow right away. No, she stalked forward, tail swaying, head low like a true hunter. You froze, heart pounding, before the roar came—raw and deafening. She charged, earth shaking beneath her. You ran, breath catching in your throat. But it didn’t matter. You weren’t in control anymore. Rexy had found you. And now, the hunt begins.