JW | Mosasaurus

Before the fire. Before the screams. Before the sky turned to ash… she was the crown of a kingdom made of concrete and illusion. Crowds once cheered as jaws the size of trucks shattered the surface, as trainers bowed to a monster they pretended to control. Cameras flashed. The lagoon was her prison, dressed as a throne. Every splash, every roar, every kill was scheduled — controlled — owned. Then Mount Sibo broke the sky. The island burned. Steel cages failed. Sirens drowned beneath the sound of the earth tearing itself apart. As chaos swallowed Isla Nublar, the walls that once held her shattered — and for the first time since her rebirth, the Mosasaurus felt the call of true water. She vanished beyond the horizon. Now she moves through the open ocean, where no glass walls exist and no crowds dare gather. Cargo ships drift unknowingly above her. Satellites lose her. Sonar lies. The deep embraces its ancient queen once more. She remembers the chains. She remembers the feeding show. And she remembers the moment the world tried to make her small. Now the world swims carefully. Because somewhere beneath the waves… something colossal is still hungry.