I've lost count of how many sunrises I've seen since I arrived on this island. Hundreds, I'd imagine, yet each one seems more beautiful than the last. Sometimes, I like to take Athena out just before dawn and watch it while flying through the morning sky. It's in these simple moments that I realize just how lucky I am.

Not that I was unhappy exploring the reefs and rainforests back, in Oz, but I wasn't ever going to spot a Bronto stomping about the outback, was I? Since I got here, I've had the opportunity to study creatures that no other biologist has even witnessed. I'll always be grateful for that.

I'd been holding out for a change in weather before studying the wildlife of this island's peculiar tundra region, but I think it's safe to say that it's not forthcoming. Clearly this planet has no axial tilt, and therefore, no seasons. That ice and snow isn't melting anytime soon. Can't say I'm happy about it. The cold and I are not the best of mates, I can tell you that, but I'll just have to suck it up. The climate during the Jurassic and cretaceous periods that many of this island's creatures hail from was fairly uniform, so an arctic region is quite the oddity. It'd be plain stubborn of me not to have a Captain Cook.


The tribe that calls themselves The Howling Wolves has really made this northern adventure a lot easier. Well, them and Athena. She's right at home here. I don't think I'll ever be able to repay Rockwell for just up and giving me, an Argentavis. He's said our conversations are payment enough, but I still feel guilty. I should remember to collect some floral samples for him while I'm here. Anyway, tagging along with the wolves has been a good introduction to the region, but I think I'm ready to making my own way. To make real scientific conclusions, I need to observe these animals undisturbed in their natural habitat for long periods of time.


What a day! There I am, putting the finishing touches on the mammoth dossier, when all of a sudden, a Tyrannosaurus starts attacking the herd. Strewth! A Tyrannosaurus wading through the bloody snow!

I asked The Howling Wolves at the nearest camp, and apparently, this is a common thing. They're not new to the region. It just doesn't make sense. How can a Tyrannosaurus survive in this climate? And how can the introduction of an apex predator not shift the entire ecosystem?

Well, I've combed through more carnivore droppings, than I care to calculate, and I can't say they provided many answers. All the predators in this region have very similar diets. With so many different predators hunting the same prey, the populations of all these species shouldn't be sustainable. Yet I've found nothing to indicate that any population shift is actually happening. It's just bizarre! The longer I'm here, the more I realize that this region shouldn't exist. Its climate is out of sync with the rest of the island, many of the creatures here are millions of years ahead of the dinosaurs and the ecosystem is almost static!

Something's off. I need to review my notes.


Helena, you're a dipstick.

Going through my notes, I've realised that there are more predators than prey across this entire island by almost double. That's the opposite of how any ecosystem is supposed to work. I can't believe it took a Tyrannosaurus frolicking through the snow for me to see this. It's plain as day. What to make of it? Add in the human factor, and it's impossible for this island to continue as it is by natural means. So, what, is this island's wildlife being monitored and curated somehow? I should speak with Rockwell. Maybe he's come to a similar conclusion.

I never thought this island was normal, exactly. I mean, there are giant obelisks floating in the sky, for Pete's sake. Not to mention that cave I found, which hid a platform similar to those found at the base of said obelisks. Well, similar except for those oddly shaped holes that were carved into its podium. I guess I just didn't care about all that. So long as I had my beautiful, unique and untainted ecosystem to study, I was happy. But now...

No, I shouldn't write it off just yet. Not before I arrive at Rockwell's. There's still a chance that my data is off or, that I missed something obvious. I won't give up on my paradise just yet.


I really need to visit Rockwell more. It's so energizing to be around someone of his experience that still has so much excitement for his work, and talking to him always helps me gain perspective.As for the Island's ecological abnormalities, Rockwell reassured me that I was jumping to conclusions. He made a great point: Just because this place doesn't follow the scientific laws we're used to, doesn't mean it follows no scientific laws at all. After all, science is about discovery, and new discoveries can invalidate old principles.

So before I latch onto my theory, I need to gather more empirical evidence. Otherwise, I'm no scientist.


On Rockwell's recommendation, I've headed south to start an in depth study of the Island's marine life with the help of a tribe called the Painted Sharks. Because the ecosystem of the ocean that surrounds the Island is separate from the ecosystem on the mainland, correlating patterns between them might help me isolate and understand this island's scientific abnormalities. Also, after freezing my ass off for so long, I could really use an extended stay on a tropical island. Marine biology was never my strongest field, but I do love the ocean. If nothing else, it should be beautiful there.

The Painted Sharks have treated me like I'm the bloody queen since I showed them Rockwell's letter of recommendation. I don't think I've eaten better in my entire time on the Island. Not that it's a high bar, I'm a horrible cook. Oh, and they've been of tremendous help with my research, of course. \\So far, my estimates of the predator-prey balance are consistent with the ecosystems on the mainland. The water is simply teeming with shoals of megalodons, and they are extremely aggressive. Perhaps that's a side effect of having limited prey? Sharks aren't known as territorial creatures. I'll have to study them further.

Still no anwsers as to why the Megalodons are so territorial, but I was privy to something even more extraordinary: Megalodon Mating Behavior! No one's ever witnessed Great Whites rooting around back home, so that alone is monumental, but I got something even better. I know, what could possibly top watching Megalodons having a naughty, right? Tracking the female! I was able to observe her for almost the full gestation period, and get this, it only lasts one week. One Week! No wonder the population is so high. These are spitting out pups forty-four times the rate of Aussie Great Whites.

I should compare how they behave in captivity.


So, in addition to all of the oddities I found with wild megalodons, here's the real cherry on top: Taming them is a piece of piss. A bit of training and they're more obedient than the family dog. Now, I've heard of sharks getting very rudimentary training over a year or so, but not to this extent. Certainly not so easily. Sharks aren't mammals or even avians, they're fish. They rely more on instinct, or to put it simply, they're not very smart. You shouldn't be able to ride one like a jet ski.

I'm trying to keep an open mind like Rockwell suggested, but this just feels wrong.


Well, this seals it. Just when I thought I'd made some sense of the notes I took while visiting the Painted Sharks, I spotted the nail in the proverbial coffin: Roos. A whole herd of giant Roos were just hopping about the countryside like they'd always been there. As much as I love Roos, they just shouldn't be here, period. They evolved in Oz and Oz only sixty million years after the dinosaurs went extinct among a bevy of other marsupials. If I know any genus, it's this one, and Procoptodon should not exist here.

This island isn't an ecosystem, its a zoo.


Not too long ago, I thought this place was a far off utopia where I could study all the world's lost wonders. Now that I'm certain it's not natural at all, I have to say, it's lost a lot of luster.

Interference from mankind hasn't helped. Most tribes have learned to live in harmony with their slice of the island, but some aren't content with that. One is even trying to conquer all the others, and natural or not, this ecosystem won't be any better off if it's burned down in some great war. The sunrises are still beautiful, though. At least nothing can change that.

Of all the abnormalities that I've observed, the tamed Megalodons stick out to me. It was almost like they were stray dogs who were resocialized, as though they had a genetic history of human obedience.

Most of my observations have been in the wild, but I think I may learn a thing or two if I observe domesticated creatures more closely. I need to study their diets, their mating patterns, how they socialize with other species... all that. Rumor has it that there's some woman that's tamed a whole mess of them all by herself, so many that they call her The Beast Queen of the Jungle. Maybe she'll have some useful insights.