JURASSIC REQUIEM
AL FUADI
This is a fan fiction work for non-profit entertainment purposes only. It has no affiliation with both Universal Pictures and Amblin Entertainment, along with any of their partners, and the Jurassic Park franchise itself, despite the usages of some, if not most, of its elements.
"All major changes are like death. You can't see to the other side until you are there."
-Michael Crichton, Jurassic Park
PROLOGUE
"How many times do you have to see the evidence? How many times must the point be made? We're causing our own extinction! Too many red lines have been crossed. And our home has, in fundamental ways, been deluded—by avarice and political megalomania. Genetic power has now been unleashed, and of course, that's gonna be catastrophic. This change was inevitable from the moment we brought the first dinosaur back from extinction.
We convinced ourselves that sudden change is something that happens outside the normal order of things—like a car crash. Or that it's beyond our control—like a fatal illness. We don't conceive of sudden, radical, irrational change as woven into the very fabric of existence. Yet, I can assure you, it most assuredly is. And it's happening now.
Humans and dinosaurs are now going to be forced to coexist. These creatures were here before us, and if we're not careful, they're going to be here after. We're gonna have to adjust to new threats that we can't imagine.
We've entered a new era...
Welcome to Jurassic World."
— Dr. Ian Malcolm, Senate Hearing on Prehistoric Wildlife, 2018
A storm lingered over the city, its gray-bellied clouds stretching across the California skyline. The air smelled of damp concrete and burning wood—Los Angeles had suffered from weeks of ecological collapse, fires spreading like malignant tumors through suburban neighborhoods. Dinosaurs roamed the periphery. There were stories of Allosaurus packs moving like ghosts through the streets, of Compsognathus picking at the remains of abandoned grocery stores, of the Mosasaurus—an urban legend made flesh—turning the Pacific into its domain. The world had changed overnight.
It had been three months since the outbreak.
The footage still played across news stations. The chaos at Lockwood Manor. The black market auctions. The thunder of the dinosaurs' release—Blue disappearing into the forest, Rexy standing victorious over a lion's enclosure, the stampede of herbivores into the California wilderness. It had not been contained. It had only just begun.
And now, in Washington, the storm had taken a different form.
The United States Capitol stood beneath the dim glow of the overcast sky, its columns steadfast against the winds of history. Inside, the Senate Committee for Wildlife Preservation was in session. The room was packed—senators, reporters, scientists, lobbyists. The air was thick with bureaucracy, the kind that stank of self-interest disguised as concern. At the center of it all stood Dr. Ian Malcolm, his presence an unshakable weight against the theater of politics.
The screens behind him flickered with the news: aerial footage of a Dimorphodon nesting on the Seattle Space Needle, security camera images of an allegedly trained Baryonyx stalking through a flooded Miami street, an amateur video of a man screaming as something lunged at him from the shadows. The world was unraveling at the seams, and the politicians were only just beginning to notice.
"This isn't a question of whether we should interfere," Senator Holloway said, leaning forward against the table. His tie was loose, his face pale beneath the artificial light. "It's a question of whether we can."
"The damage is already done," Malcolm replied, voice even, exhausted. "You opened Pandora's Box decades ago, and now you want to put the nightmares back inside? It doesn't work that way." He gestured vaguely at the screens, where a pack of adult Dilophosaurus—now bigger—were seen darting between the wreckage of a car crash in Denver. "This isn't some oil spill you can scrub clean. It's life, and life finds a way."
"Dr. Malcolm," another senator, his voice clipped and cold, cut in. "We have reports of black market activity. These animals are not just running loose—they're being bred, bought, and sold. The collapse of InGen left a void, and now we're seeing illegal operations springing up across the globe."
Malcolm tilted his head, a dark amusement flickering in his eyes. "And you thought this wouldn't happen? Come on." He leaned against the podium, adjusting his glasses. "The moment InGen fell, someone was going to take their place. Biosyn, for example, was practically foaming at the mouth to snatch up whatever scraps were left behind. And now? Now you've got operations that aren't just cloning the dinosaurs we know, but making new ones—because of course they are. And the result? Bigger, meaner, smarter creatures. Just like the ones you see on your screen."
The footage cut to a new image. A pteranodontid labeled on-screen as "Geosternbergia (tentative name), identity unknown," wings outstretched like a living nightmare, perched atop a shattered radio tower in Arizona. It was massive, larger than any pterosaur recorded from Jurassic World's archives. The creature opened its jaws, revealing a serrated beak. The screen froze.
The room fell into silence.
Then, the whispers began.
The government had known. They had always known.
A secretary leaned in to whisper something to one of the senators, her expression tight. Malcolm watched, waiting. This was the game, after all.
Finally, Senator Holloway sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. "Dr. Malcolm, what do you suggest we do?"
Malcolm exhaled sharply through his nose, shaking his head. "I'm not here to offer solutions, Senator. I'm here to remind you that you had a chance to prevent this. You were so concerned with debating the ethics of resurrection that you ignored the inevitable consequences." His voice lowered. "And now, you want a way out? You want an easy answer? There isn't one."
The lights above flickered.
For a moment, Malcolm saw it—the future laid out before him, the dominoes already falling. He saw a world where dinosaurs were no longer contained to isolated jungles or fenced-in facilities. He saw highways littered with the remains of vehicles that had been overturned by stampeding herbivores. He saw apex predators stalking the edges of city limits, their golden eyes gleaming in the dark.
He saw chaos.
And chaos, like life, always found a way.
Malcolm adjusted his tie, his voice quiet.
"Welcome to Jurassic World it is."