(A/N): Well, I go over and read ten different wikis searching for information on velociraptor breeding habits (I know it's in one of the dinosaur videos my little brother used to watch), and find nothing.

So, I don't care if this is unrealistic. Whatever.

Just don't complain too much, okay?

Here's the real A/N with the important stuff:

(A/N): So, anyway, this story is based off of Marquis Carabas' Station Sequence. If you check out his profile, you can find the four fics in that series. Their titles are:

Wells Street Station (#1)

Promenade (#1.5*)

The Ellipse (#2)

Narodnaya (#3**)

I am assuming you have read all of these fics if you are reading this. This whole series is an AU companion series told through the point of view of a 'character' I pointed out in my review on Chapter 11, Harbinger, of Narodnaya.

It's going to contain major spoilers for The Ellipse and Narodnaya at minimum and will also spoil each fic's plot(***). The topic of this first book was actually suggested by Word of God, and so I follow Word of God (****).

The end.

DISCLAIMER: For those of you that are going to say it, here's an excerpt from a PM message Marquis Carabas sent me:

There's not much I haven't already said, ..., though I may as well point a few things out.

1. If anyone asks you in a review or private message, you have my total permission to go ahead with this. The same answer will be given to anyone who asks me.

So how about you just keep your mouth shut and avoid the humiliation? I, once again, don't own the Station Sequence. If I did, this would be canon. And everyone would die. (Still hoping on that one...)

The end. Again.

* I'm either not using the events in Promenade for this series, or I'm going to lump them in as a prologue to The Warpath (Book Four of my series, based on 'The Ellipse. Not sure yet.

** Narodnaya, at the time this was posted, was still a WIP.

*** The AU Narodnaya, in this case, has a different ending, proved so by Word of God.

**** AU Narodnaya's ending is still mine. Even Marquis Carabas doesn't know what I'm doing with this, although he probably has some vague idea.

PROLOGUE: 65,000,437 B.C.

I'd always hoped for an ironic death.

Maybe it would come to me during the final battle.

I sink my teeth into the neck of a Beldam and jerk my head back as hard as I can. The neck is ripped to shreds, and the monster tries to scream in pain, but it can't, because it can't breathe.

That was revenge.

It felt good.

I've got a whole army behind me. It feels good to be in power. There's the whole assortment - T-rexes, other velociraptors, stegosauruses, and so many more that I can't name all of the kinds.

The psychephages, as they called themselves, couldn't take us all down. We outnumbered them. The battlefield was also on top of a good amount of some kind of rock that they don't like, but as long as they aren't extreme shapeshifters, able to turn into smoke and back, we can take them down with our teeth and claws.

They call me the Stormcrow. I have the power to summon this chaos and the blood.

I want blood. I seek death. I crave despair.

I wasn't like this to begin with.

I rip the body of a horla to shreds with my claws and begin to think of my past.

My childhood had been mostly normal. I had learned to hunt faster than the other eggs, and, after a few months, killed them out of boredom and lack of things to do. They were stupid, the other eggs, and I didn't want to be related to them.

Years passed. I quickly was able to hunt and kill some larger animals. The group I was in, five including me, still gave me the least action and the least prey. I grew angry, and had to show them I was strong.

That was around the time I found the mysterious burrow in the ground.

That was around the time I discovered my purpose.

There was a newer, better, stranger world under our own - lots of prey, respect, blood, death, 'buttons' for eyes...

Then came the day they offered for me to join them.

I slaughtered every single one of the fakes on my way out.

When I came back, soaked in the blood of others, they praised me for killing off another pack by myself.

They had no idea of the truth, of course.

But I didn't care. I was accepted.

My eyes dialate. Darkness is falling quickly. I kill a weak (possibly a baby) coatl and move on quickly. I call triumphantly and the thunder answers me.

I pounce on a kimatine, another of the psychephages, and assist one of my fighters in killing it.

I look around.

I call again.

A thunderclap.

I purposefully sought out their lairs from then on out, occasionally accompanied when I might have trouble.

I only trusted one other with my confidance. They helped me when I needed it and didn't when I didn't and kept quiet the rest of the time.

I grew restless and merciless.

I killed them with no mercy, no apologies, no reconciliations. They just died, and I did the rest of the work.

I killed more. I lived by drinking their blood alone.

Then came the day that peace was sought, and I forced myself to agree.

Who was their leader, anyway?

I lead my troops forward, progressing into the shadows.

I call with the crowd. We are the storm.

I am the 'crow'... the symbol of death.

The Stormcrow's storm progresses toward the enemy, killing all with teeth and claw, seeking revenge for the fallen.

He woke up a few years later.

They pretended to fear him. I saw through their lies, but played along. They helped me summon an army.

Then I fought against them.

I swore him my enemy, their leader. His blood would taste the best.

I feel the fear from my troops grow stronger.

We are closing in on him.

The various groans are suddenly silenced.

I go forward alone, unfearing.

I see him.

His vine-like loop is held in his hand.

I know where my troops are.

I call.

You will die, I think to him. You will die when I kill you for killing others for killing. You are the evil.

It reads my thoughts.

"And why? You are the one that seeks the blood. You dared interrupt a peaceful existence... not I. I am doing as my nature tells me to."

I kill for food.

"You like to think that, yes, but you kill because you lack enough sanity to only kill for food."

I will kill you for food.

"That's revenge, Stormcrow. Come and try it."

I run towards him.

He is faster.

A claw - something - scrapes across my neck.

I bleed.

You are my enemy. I will kill you somehow.

I DON'T CARE HOW!

"Alas, it's too late for that."

I die.

My soul has some unfinished business to return to.

I let it.

(A/N): So, do you like?

Dinosaurs-versus-psychephages was originally supposed to be its own feature, as the only thing better than that would be dinosaurs-versus-Nazis, but, alas, I didn't think I would be able to put enough meat on it.

Now you're getting a feature film about a volcanic lake in Indonesia.

I know, I should have gone dinosaurs-versus-Nazis a long time ago, but that's for another fic.