Chapter 3: Is That a Ceratosaurus?

  The tremors in the chamber grew stronger, dust falling from the cavern ceiling as an ominous growl echoed through the vast space. The man froze, every instinct screaming at him to move, but his legs felt like they were rooted to the ground. He turned slowly toward the source of the noise.

  Emerging from the shadows was a colossal predator, its crimson-tinted scales glinting in the faint glow of the relics. A prominent horn jutted from its snout, and rows of dagger-like teeth gleamed as it let out a bone-rattling roar. His breath caught in his throat as recognition—though he didn’t know from where—flooded his mind. Ceratosaurus.

  Its amber eyes locked onto him, the intelligence and hunger behind them impossible to miss. The beast took a slow step forward, its claws scraping against the stone floor. The man stumbled back, glancing frantically around the chamber for an escape route, but the walls seemed to close in.

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  The Ceratosaurus let out another roar, shaking the ground, and then it charged. Heart pounding, he dove behind the stone pedestal, the beast's massive jaws snapping shut just inches from his leg. Scrambling to his feet, he darted toward a narrow passageway in the far corner of the chamber, barely squeezing through as the predator's horn smashed into the stone behind him, sending shards flying.

  He didn’t stop. The tunnel twisted and turned, the ground slick and uneven, but the thunderous footsteps and guttural growls behind him made sure he didn’t falter. Just as the tunnel began to widen again, his path was blocked by a chasm, a deep crevasse that seemed bottomless in the faint light.

  The relic in his pocket pulsed again, its glow cutting through the dark like a beacon. The voice whispered faintly in his mind: "Leap, and trust."

  He hesitated, looking back at the Ceratosaurus barreling toward him. With no other choice, he clenched his fists, took a running start, and leaped into the void.