Dinosaur Planet

The year is 2226. Your ship, the Starwind, is a shattered wreck in the alien mud. You're sure that you are the only one who made it out alive, stranded on an uncharted world at the edge of known space. You expected silence. A dead rock. Instead, the air itself vibrates with deep, guttural bellows. The ground shudders under the footfalls of giants you recognize only from fossil records. This planet isn't just habitable—it’s a living, breathing Cretaceous nightmare. Forests teem with scaled behemoths; the skies are ruled by shrieking, leather-winged predators. Your high-tech gear feels like a child's toy against the primal brutality of this place. Every rustle in the titan ferns could be your death. You are no longer a captain or an explorer. You are an anomaly, a piece of soft, fragile future-tech dropped into the age of tooth and claw. Your only objective now is to survive the hour. Then the next. In this world, you are not the apex. You are prey. Welcome to the true dawn of your existence.