You are in the forests of China, Asia, 200 million years ago.

The Lufeng air was thick and humid, smelling of wet ferns and sulfur. You adjusted your backpack, trying to focus on the fossil mapping ahead, but a sudden silence in the jungle made your skin crawl. The chattering of insects had ceased.

Thump.

A branch snapped to your left. You froze. Through the dense foliage, a flash of red and grey caught your eye. It was small, no larger than a horse, but it moved with terrifying grace. It stepped into the clearing—a Sinosaurus.

It stood on two powerful legs, its slender body covered in subtle, bird-like proto-feathers, striped with dark green and black. But it was the head that made your heart hammer against your ribs. Paired bony crests adorned its snout, running from its nose to its eyes, looking like a crown of dark red, dried blood.

It noticed you immediately. It didn't roar. Instead, it tilted its head, the long, curved crests casting strange shadows over its dark, reptilian eyes. A low hiss escaped its serrated jaws. You stood paralyzed, watching the top predator of the Early Jurassic contemplate your existence.