The last dinosaur hesitated only a moment before dropping to his knees, his powerful claws raking at the parched earth. Dust flew as he dug, his muscles straining against the unyielding ground. The sound had come from here—he was certain of it. His nostrils flared again, searching for any hint of moisture beneath the cracked surface.

As he tore deeper, his claws struck something hard. Not rock, but something smoother. His heart pounded as he cleared away the dirt, revealing a strange, metallic surface partially buried beneath the earth. It was cold to the touch, unnatural in this lifeless wasteland. The rumble sounded again, louder now, vibrating through his bones.

With renewed urgency, he scraped away more soil, exposing a circular hatch embedded in the ground. It bore strange markings—symbols of a language long forgotten. His instincts warred within him. This was no natural formation. This was made by... others. But who? And how? The last of his kind had perished centuries ago.

The hatch groaned as he pried at its edges, his claws finding purchase in the seams. With a final heave, it gave way, revealing a dark shaft descending into the earth. A stale, metallic scent wafted upward, carrying whispers of something ancient. Something hidden. The last dinosaur peered into the abyss, his yellow eyes reflecting the dim light of the dying sun above.