Turok runs through the forest faster than he ever has. It tears past him in a blur of green and shadow, branches snapping at his shoulders, roots threatening to take his feet out from under him. Behind him, the ground thunders—not once, but in a relentless, bone-shaking rhythm that vibrates up through his legs and into his chest. The beast screeches an ear-piercing call. It’s a sound too sharp, too loud, ripping through the trees like stone on stone.

Feathers flash between the trunks sending dark, bristling plumes streaked with mud and blood. It’s too big to be this fast, yet every stomp lands like the earth itself is cracking open. Leaves explode upward with each step. Turok doesn’t look back. He doesn’t need to. He can hear how the creature crashes through saplings as if they’re nothing, hooked claws raking bark, jaws snapping with a wet, furious click just behind him.

He veers hard to the left, lungs burning, heart hammering, the screech cutting closer— closer— And Turok slams full force into another body.