Without warning, a brilliant flash stuns the fleeing duckbill. The reptile staggers, shaking its great head, attempting to regain its sight. As its vision clears, two raptors leap from the foliage and screech at the larger beast, blocking her escape as the rest of the pack pounces upon the Corythosaur’s back, gouging her flesh with their deadly, sickle-clawed feet. One of the first hunters finds the duckbill’s throat, biting into the animal’s esophagus as it digs its feet and sickle claws into the soft flesh below the sternum. The wounded reptile chokes out a cry, gagging on its own blood, as another raptor bites down upon its flat snout, plunging its front claws into the Corythosaur’s eyes, bringing its heavier foe whimpering to the ground.

In moments, it is over. The predators snarl, snapping at each other as they tear mouthfuls of flesh from their still-quivering prey. Occupied with the kill, the Velociraptors ignore the trembling ground beneath their feet and the approaching thunder.

A dark shadow passes overhead. The bird-like dinosaurs look up as one, blood dripping from their jowls as they growl at the mountainous wall of water.

The twenty-two-story wave crests—then falls—pummeling the startled hunters, liquefying their bones into the sand with a thunderous clap. The wave sweeps north, its kinetic energy obliterating everything in its path.

The tsunami inundates the terrain, sweeping vegetation, sediment, and land creatures within its roaring swell as it submerges the tropical coastline for hundreds of miles in all directions. What little forest remains outside the wash path ignites as searing blast waves turn the air into a veritable furnace. A pair of Pteranodons attempt to escape the holocaust. Rising above the trees, their reptilian wings catch fire, incinerating in the thermal wind.

High above, chunks of iridium and rock that were launched skyward begin reentering the atmosphere as incandescent meteors. Within hours, the entire planet is shrouded in a dense cloud of dust, smoke, and ash.

The forests will burn for months. For nearly a year, no sunlight will penetrate the blackened sky to reach the surface of the once-tropical world. The temporary cessation of photosynthesis will obliterate thousands of species of plants and animals on land and in the sea, as the Sun’s eventual return is followed by years of nuclear winter.

In one cataclysmic moment, the 140-million-year domain of the dinosaurs has come to an abrupt end.

For days, the sleek gold vessel remains in orbit high above the devastated world, its sensors continuously scanning the impact site. The fourth-dimensional highway home is long gone, the rotation of the galaxy having already moved the conduit’s access point several light-years away.

On the seventh day, an emerald green light begins to glow from beneath the fractured seafloor. Seconds later, a powerful subspace radio signal ignites, the distress call directed into the outer reaches of the galaxy.

The life-forms within the orbiting vessel jam the signal—too late.