You are in the floodplains of Australia, 95 million years ago.

The air was thick and hot, as you stand at the edge of the vast, drying floodplain. The ground trembled—a rhythmic, deep thud that vibrate through the soles of your feet before you heard anything.

Through the shimmering heat haze, a mountainous shape emerged, blocking out the sun. It was Australotitan. The southern titan.

It was impossibly large—as long as a basketball court—moving with slow, deliberate grace. Its hip sat roughly 20 feet above the ground, making it taller than a B-double truck. Its skin was a mosaic of earthy tones, covered in thick, dusty armour plating that blended with the red dirt. As it moved, it trampled through soft mud, leaving massive footprints that instantly turned into shallow, water-filled craters.

You froze as it lowered its neck to feed, the sheer size of the creature defying imagination. It was one of the largest dinosaurs in the world, yet here it was, just another colossal giant, part of a herd moving slowly across the Cretaceous savanna.