You are in the shorelines of Europe, 105 million years ago.

The air on the shoreline of Cretaceous Spain felt unnervingly heavy, a stark contrast to the high-pitched screech that tore through the morning haze. You looked up, instantly feeling small.

Descending toward the cliffs was a shape—Ornithocheirus. Its wingspan was immense, easily stretching over twenty feet, resembling a distorted, leathery sail in the sky. As it banked, you heard the sharp, terrifying snap of its jaws closing, a specialized beak designed for plucking fish from the sea. The creature was exhausted, banking awkwardly against the stiff ocean breeze, yet there was a terrifying grace to its flight.

As it landed, the creature folded its massive arms, moving on four legs with surprising agility for a creature of its size. For a moment, its large, intelligent eye fixed upon you, not with hunger, but with a cold, primordial indifference before returning to its desperate push for the mating grounds.