'Prologue'

| Author's Note: New stuff <3< p>

Also, this work serves as a creative escape from my main fanfic,— something I turn to when I hit writer's block or simply feel the need for a change of pace. Consider it a secondary project.

I'll upload chapters whenever I feel like it, and only if I feel like it. That said, you can still expect a quality fanfic from me. Thank you for your understanding!

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"The island was meant to be secure, and the fences were supposed to hold them in,— but what about us? We were supposed to walk away, alive. But nothing about this place was ever meant to let us go, was it?"

— Riley Kane, reflecting on the days they spent evading those damned dinosaurs, after surviving Isla Sorna.

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| Isla Sorna, 1995 - Dr. Warren Kane's POV:

The storm loomed like a predator, its dark, sprawling tendrils stretching across the horizon as if eager to consume the island. Winds howled through the skeletal jungle canopy, shaking the metal fences that encased Isla Sorna's volatile inhabitants.

This wasn't an ordinary storm. It was a Category Five hurricane named Clarissa, a monstrous engine of chaos tearing its way across the Pacific. Isla Sorna had weathered many tempests, but this one felt different,— alive, and with purpose.

The island's sprawling facility, once buzzing with the hum of machinery and human voices, had fallen silent, its corridors eerily empty.

In the command center, the air reeked of sweat and ozone as Dr. Warren Kane, the island's chief geneticist, barked commands into his handheld radio, his voice sharp and urgent.

"Evacuate Sectors A through E immediately! Personnel in the northern quadrant take priority,— I don't care about the equipment. Get my people out now!" Behind him, a wall of monitors flickered, static creeping across the feeds. One by one, the cameras went dark. The dilophosaurus pen, the raptor enclosure, even the massive aviary. Each screen blinked off, leaving only blackness in its previous place.

"The backup grid is failing." a technician stammered, his voice trembling. "If we don't restart the auxiliary generator,—"

"The enclosures will all fail." Kane slammed a fist onto the console, his frustration boiling over. "I know that!" He whirled around.

"Where the hell is Mason?" The answer came in the form of heavy, deliberate footsteps. Mason Gray, head of security, strode into the room. His black fatigues clung to him, damp from the growing humidity, and his piercing eyes scanned the chaos with unnerving calm. He exuded an air of authority that was as reassuring as it was intimidating.

"You called?" Mason's voice was flat, almost disinterested, and Kane gestured toward the blank monitors. "We're losing power across the island. The auxiliary generator is offline, and if it's not restarted immediately, we'll lose containment. For now only the Raptors, the dilophosaurus,—"

"I get it, the assets are freeing themselves thanks to the power outage." Mason cut in, his tone clipped. "Where's the auxiliary generator?"

"The central quadrant." Kane replied, pacing. "But most of your men are already on evac detail. Can't you spare,—"

"No." Mason's response was final.

"Everyone we have left is securing evac routes and escorting personnel to the helipads. But don't worry too much, I'll find you a solution." Kane hesitated, watching Mason's impassive expression. The man was unshakable, but that didn't mean Kane trusted him. "If we keep losing the containment of more carnivorous species, it won't just be 'specimens' escaping. We'll have blood on our hands,— from our own people."

Mason's jaw tightened at that, but he didn't respond. Instead, he turned quickly on his heel, already pulling a satellite phone from his belt. "I'll handle it."

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| Isla Sorna, 1995 - Mason Gray's POV:

The storm had fully arrived an hour later, its winds screaming through the jungle like a living thing. Rain lashed against the helipad, where the last chopper idled, waiting for the final group of evacuees.

Mason stood apart from the chaos, his gaze scanning the remaining personnel with surgical precision. Two figures caught his attention then,— young, nervous, and most importantly, expendable.

"Cole! Kane!" he barked, his voice cutting through the cacophony of rain and rotor blades. Ethan Cole snapped to attention, his hand instinctively adjusting the strap of his rifle. His partner, Riley Kane,— no relation to the doctor,— stood rigid, her sharp eyes narrowing at Mason's approach.

"You're on generator duty, responsible to turn back on the auxiliary generator located on the central sector of the island." Mason announced. "Generator duty, Sir?" Riley folded her arms nervously, incredulous.

"Shouldn't that be,—" She tried protesting the recent orders, to no avail. "Not up for debate, soldier." Mason interrupted. "The auxiliary generator's offline near the island's center, and your job is to get there, flip the breakers, and radio in when it's done."

Yet, Ethan also hesitated, glancing toward the evacuation line nearest to them. "And evac, Sir?"

"There's a secondary helipad near the generator..." Mason replied coolly. "Once you're done, I will contact you, and a chopper will then pick you up. An easy job, no?"

Riley's brow furrowed, suspicion flickering across her face. "Why send us, though? Why not someone more experienced?"

"Because everyone else is busy saving your ungrateful asses. Now, are you up for the task or not?" Mason snapped, leaning in close enough for them to hear him over the storm. Neither of the duo spoke, but the tension between them was palpable.

Finally, Mason's patience ran thin, and he thrusted a map and a radio into Riley's hands. "Stay on the marked paths, don't wander off. And for God's sake, be alert,— this island doesn't forgive mistakes."

With that, he turned away, his mind already moving to the next crisis, while the duo stood there, anxiously looking at each-other.

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| Isla Sorna, 1993 - Ethan & Riley's POV:

The jungle was oppressive, its dense canopy choking out the fading light. Rain fell in sheets now, soaking Ethan and Riley to the bone as they trudged along the muddy path, having just recently gotten out of the jeep they took here.

The roar of thunder was constant, a backdrop to their hurried steps. "This place is a nightmare." Riley muttered, gripping her shotgun tightly, while Ethan smirked, though his nerves were just as frayed. "What, not a fan of nature?"

"Not a fan of dinosaurs possibly roaming free." she shot back. Their banter was short-lived however.

As they approached the generator site, the atmosphere shifted, the clearing got eerily quiet, and the generator hulking like a forgotten relic stood finally in front of them.

Vines snaked around its rusted frame, and the control panel was slick with rain. "This shouldn't take long." Riley said, crouching beside the controls. Her voice was steady, but her hands trembling as she worked her magic.

A few minutes went by with normality, and Riley was almost finished, when a sound,— a low, guttural growl that made both of them freeze, came from the near forest. "What was that?" Riley whispered, her eyes suddenly darting toward the barely visible treeline, curtesy of the growing denser fog. Ethan raised his rifle, scanning the shadows. "Stay focused, Riley, and just get it running."

The growl came again, closer this time. The underbrush rustled, and the air grew thick with the scent of wet earth and something primal. "Ethan, I don't feel safe." Riley's voice was barely audible from behind him, with Riley's hands moving faster than ever now.

Then, out of the nowhere, a blur of motion.

Something darted between the trees,— fast, too fast.

"Riley, RUN!" Ethan suddenly shouted, grabbing Riley's arm. They sprinted down the previous path, intent on getting back to their jeep, their boots slipping in the mud as snarls erupted behind them.

The predator gave chase, its guttural roars echoing through the storm, and soon, through minimal sight, the duo found themselves lost, running through dense forest ground instead of the clear muddy road they had taken before.

And as the duo ran from the unknowing predator, Ethan's radio crackled to life, with Mason's voice cutting through the chaos.

"Good work on the generator, rookies. Thought there's just one more thing..." And Ethan fumbled for the radio, his breath ragged. "What the hell is happening, sir?"

Mason's reply was cold then, almost detached. "There's no chopper coming for you. You're both on your own." And then the radio went dead silent. Ethan's chest tightened, his mind racing, and he glanced at Riley, whose pale face mirrored his own realization.

They'd been abandoned.

And yet, they could not spare any more moments to think further, as behind them, the snarls grew louder, and closer.

"We need to go faster!" Ethan yelled, leading Riley deeper into the jungle. Rain hammered down, the storm above matching the terror closing in behind them.

And yet, things were only now getting started.

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| Jurassic Park |

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