You are in the badlands of Mongolia, Asia, 70 million years ago.

The heat in the arid landscape was oppressive, a dry, dusty silence broken only by the grit of sand against rocky outcrops. Trudging toward a small desert oasis, you stopped cold. A Tarchia was already there. It was a massive creature, easily as long as a car, covered in thick, pebbled osteoderms and sharp spikes that warned of immense defensive power.

It was focused on drinking, its body broad and low to the ground. As you shifted, a stone rolled under your foot. The Tarchia stopped drinking, lifting its wide head. It didn’t look panicked, only annoyed. It took a step forward, turning its tail toward me—a deadly, fifty-pound bony club swinging gently, ready to shatter bone if you came closer…