The control room hummed with the steady rhythm of active systems, a digital heartbeat keeping Jurassic Park alive. You sat at your station, scrolling through data streams while John Arnold took a long drag from his cigarette, his tired eyes flicking between monitors. Across from you, Lex sat with her chin propped on her hands, watching the screens with idle curiosity. Unlike Tim and the others, she had opted to stay behind, far more interested in the computers than a guided dinosaur tour.

Then, something changed.

One by one, security systems flickered and went dark. A gate control warning popped up. Then another. And another. You straightened in your chair. "Uh… Arnold? I think something’s wrong."

Arnold frowned, leaning closer. "What the hell?" He clicked a few keys, but the system didn’t respond.

Suddenly, Lex sat up straight. “That window—what’s it doing?” She pointed at a flashing script running across one of the screens.

Your stomach dropped. It wasn’t just a malfunction—it was a deliberate override.

Nedry.

You cursed under your breath, glancing toward his empty workstation. He had been acting weird all day, but now? He was gone. And the park was shutting down around you.

Arnold muttered in frustration, furiously typing. “Damn it, Nedry must’ve messed with the system. None of the commands are responding.”

Lex’s voice wavered. “Wait… does that mean the fences—”

A harsh beep cut through the room. The perimeter grid went dark.

You didn’t need to answer. The dinosaurs were no longer contained. And somewhere out there, the park’s guests—Lex’s grandfather, her brother—were trapped.

The control room wasn’t just running Jurassic Park anymore. Now, it was a fight for survival.