(A/N: Someone send me some dumb GIFs—I swear I can't find the motivation to write unless I get a two-second laugh break first. GIF roll call, right here!)
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Dinosaur movies are seriously repetitive, don't you think?
I mean, sure—the first ones were masterpieces.
An experimental park, a surprise hurricane, a bunch of scientists and tourists who barely knew which way the bathroom was, let alone how to survive a raptor.
Fine. Believable chaos. The nostalgia was real.
But then came the sequels.
Big shady corporations.
Billion-dollar plans to exploit dinosaurs.
And their master strategy?
Rolling up in open-topped Jeeps, maybe a dozen guys, most of them looking like they're interns on their first field trip.
No tanks.
No air support.
No drones.
Just a couple of rifles and "positive vibes."
Every. Single. Time.
And somehow, these people get surprised—again—when a dinosaur chews through their spinal cord like it's spaghetti.
Meanwhile, the bad rich guy always gets caught after abandoning the group, while the main characters outrun a pack of raptors on a bicycle.
Ridiculous. Absolutely—
Crunch.
Ah. Right.
I guess now's a good time to explain why I'm thinking about dinosaur movies while my literal hips just got separated from my actual upper body like I'm a disassembled action figure.
It's because my life is flashing before my eyes.
And because the thing that did it?
Kinda counts as a dinosaur. I guess?
[Dragonoid Queen – Mavareth Lv ????]
Yeah. That's her.
Believe it or not, this gorgeous, horrifying girl—the one who just tore me in half—is the hidden boss of the dungeon my team was raiding.
Long black hair.
Red eyes with those vertical slits that scream "apex predator."
A body sculpted like a goddess with scales instead of clothes, covering just enough to make it look like she wore a bikini—if a bikini were made of natural armor.
And before you ask, yes.
The more human they look, the deadlier they are.
First thing they taught us at the Awakener Academy.
They even encourage us to fight the big dumb huge dinosaur types before we ever go near the humanoid ones.
Because humanoid monsters?
They think.
They plan.
And they kill with intelegence.
"Ka, shivaln... era zothi nax vel, buthra keh'nar,"she said softly, in a voice that echoed like thunder in a cathedral.
I had no clue what it meant.
But judging by her expression—somewhere between disappointment and disgust—I probably shouldn't ask her to repeat it.
Everything blurred.
Her movements slowed, like I was watching her through molasses.
She clutched her head suddenly, as if in pain.
Or maybe frustration.
Why?
What happened?
I never got the chance to find out.
---
---
---
How did it even come to this?
It was supposed to be a routine C-rank dungeon.
Simple undead ruins.
A few skeletons, a minor wraith, maybe a miniboss.
Easy heals.
Light work.
Then we found it: a black stone gate deep in the ruin, covered in glowing runes.
And then—Ding!
[Hidden Dungeon Discovered: Ancient Cemetery]
That's when our team leader's eyes practically turned into gold coins.
I could hear the greed in his voice before he even opened his mouth.
"We're going in," he said, eyes shining.
I voted no, of course.
But my vote didn't count.
It never did.
Support classes never got a say.
Especially not me, the healer.
I was just the walking medkit.
Meanwhile, the rest of them picked DPS roles just because it was cool.
Flashy damage. Zero brain.
Ding! Ding! Ding!
I think the system kept popping up more notifications.
Maybe something about danger levels or a power gap.
I don't know.
Everything was going blurry.
Probably the blood loss.
My vision swam with red.
And then—darkness.
---
---
---
"Shivaln!...Fucking insect! This weakling actually—!?"
Was that... her voice again?
But this time I could understand it?
Why?
Everything around me went quiet.
Like I was submerged underwater.
My hearing dulled.
My heart slowed.
And then—
Roars.
No... chirps?
Definitely not a bird.
It sounded like a monster.
Somewhere between a lion and a tornado gargling nails.
Did I survive?
My back felt cold. Like stone.
My skin tingled—especially around my hips—and there was weight on my chest that didn't feel right.
I've woken up in hospitals before.
Perks of being an Awakener.
You get used to white ceilings, antiseptic smell, and beeping monitors.
But this...?
This was ruins.
Cracked stone pillars.
Overgrown vines.
A half-collapsed ceiling.
I blinked groggily, trying to sit up—
But everything felt off.
My shoulders were stiff.
Something was stuck to my chest.
Something soft.
Something heavy.
"What the...?"
I looked down.
And froze.
There they were.
Squish.
Those are Assets on me.
Now, I'm not an expert, but I'm pretty sure I didn't have those when I bled out ten minutes ago.
I stared at them.
Touched them.
Winced.
Then I noticed my hands.
Black scales.
Clawed fingers.
"W-what the fuck!?"
My voice came out higher.
Still mine.
But not quite.
---
The facility looked like a post-apocalyptic botanical garden had thrown a rave and forgotten to clean up after.
Moss blanketed the walls.
Vines crawled across shattered terminals and cracked light fixtures.
Organic papers—probably reports once—lay scattered like moldy confetti.
One particularly sad hazmat suit was slumped in a corner, like it had given up halfway through an apocalypse and just died from stress.
But what caught my eye wasn't the jungle mess.
It was the mirror.
Or rather, a shard of one—jagged, grime-smeared, but still reflective enough to see what I needed to see.
I stared into it.
And she stared back.
Black hair.
Red eyes.
Slit pupils.
Sharp features.
Black horns curling stylishly behind my head.
And let's not forget the gigantic—absolutely unfair—assets that swayed slightly every time I so much as breathed.
"Nope," I whispered. "Nope, nope, nuh-uh—"
I turned my head.
So did she.
I blinked.
She blinked.
And then I tilted my head all the way down to my shoulders...
And saw them.
Scales.
Gleaming black and definitely not human.
My arms shimmered like obsidian armor.
"...This is Mavareth's face, right?"
I was trying to convince myself maybe—maybe—me and the Dragonoid Queen just shared a vague resemblance.
You know, like those memes where people say they look like a celebrity if you squint and turn the lights off and maybe get hit in the head really hard.
Except this wasn't resemblance.
This was identity theft, with a side of reincarnation.
No, more like system error.
"Status!" I barked, desperation clawing into my voice.
And then, like a cursed pop-up ad, the familiar Akashic system window bloomed into view.
There lingered the unclosed notifs history.
[Hidden Skill Unlocked: "Sacrificial Lamb"]
Effect: When taking damage, reflect 50% back with 1,000,000,000% additional True damage and guaranteed crit.
[You have slain boss monster"Dragonoid Queen"]
[Party Contribution:100%]
[Reward Granted:Retry (EX)]
"Oh right," I muttered. "That whole dying thing."
They always said every Awakener had a hidden skill buried deep in their soul.
Something only unlocked in times of unimaginable pressure.
Battle, trauma, near-death.
Mine?
Apparently, mine was being torn in half by a boss monster with jiggle physics.
But that wasn't even the weirdest part.
Because next came this:
> [EX Skill "Retry" is in effect: Revive the user in the desired location with saved data. Usable once.]
[Error! Last saved data is corrupted! Checking older save...]
[Error! Last saved data is corrupted! Checking older save...]
[Error! Last saved data is corrupted! Checking older save...]
It just.
Wouldn't.
Stop.
I hit the little [X] on each one like I was speed-running a gacha summon gone wrong.
One after another.
Ten... fifteen... twenty...
Finally:
> [Last saved data: Mavareth – Lv 10]
[Desired location has been found]
[EX Skill "Retry" has faded]
And just like that, the full status window bloomed.
I squinted.
I stared.
I laughed, once.
Bitterly.
"...Holy fuck."
[Mavareth – Lv 10 (Dragonoid)]
Energy Point:1080
Combat Power:Special A
Skills:Dragon Heart (S)
---
I dropped the mirror shard.
It clinked against the mossy stone, bounced once, and landed next to the hazmat suit like it gave up too.
"So let me get this straight," I muttered.
"I got murdered by a sexy dragon boss, nuked her with a hidden skill, and now... I am her."
"Fucking bullshit."
I slowly looked down again at my now very not-masculine body.
"How many times should I cuss out the F-word today?"
Then I heard it.
A roar.
Deep. Guttural.
The kind of sound that makes your lungs vibrate and your brain whisper: Fucking Run.
I tensed.
The facility creaked around me.
Dust rained down in soft pulses.
At first, I thought it was another aftershock.
But no.
Too consistent.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
Not an earthquake.
Footsteps.
Big ones.
I scanned the room.
Vines dangled from the pipes like nature was reclaiming the place, but through the mess I spotted something familiar: a rusted emergency ladder tucked along the far wall.
It led up—maybe to a service hatch. Maybe an exit.
One problem: the floor between us was cracked.
Jagged gaps, like someone tried to punch through the Earth itself.
One wrong jump and I'd end up as monster mush.
But I had to try.
I crouched.
Took a breath.
And leapt.
I soared over the gap—
And immediately regretted it.
"Ouch—!"
My head smacked straight into the ceiling with a loud clang, and I crumpled back down like a dropped sack of potatoes.
Dazed, I blinked up through spinning vision, only to see the ceiling above bulging outward from the force of my skull.
"...Wait."
Still lying down, I reached for a rock nearby—a chunk of debris about the size of my fist.
I held it tight.
Squeezed.
Crack!!
The rock exploded in my hand like a dry biscuit.
Dust trickled through my scaled fingers.
Right.
I wasn't human anymore.
"I'm... a dragonoid," I whispered.
Everything was different.
My balance.
My weight.
My sheer, unnatural strength.
I stood up and eyed the ladder again.
It had looked intimidating before.
Now? It looked like tinfoil.
I tried again—this time with control.
Jumped lighter. Careful.
Still overshot.
My grip instinctively closed around a steel rung—
Which promptly bent like a straw.
"Shit—! Okay, easy. Easy..."
Climbing felt like trying to walk on stilts made of wet paper.
Every bar I touched twisted or snapped.
Some tore clean off in my claws.
I tried gripping only with my fingertips, but even they were strong enough to dent steel.
It was a miracle I made it to the top.
When I finally pushed open the hatch...
The world changed.
Light flooded my slitted eyes.
Sunlight—not filtered through glass or magic crystals, but real, golden, warm rays.
It was almost too bright. I squinted.
Green.
So much green.
The surface looked like a dream painted in foliage.
Trees towered above like skyscrapers.
Ferns thick as blankets covered the forest floor.
Birds—no, flying reptiles—flapped overhead in small flocks.
My mouth hung open.
"This... is a dungeon?" I muttered.
It had to be.
I'd seen places like this before.
Themed dungeons.
Some recreated deserts.
Others arctic wastelands or ruined cities.
One time, there was even a dungeon that looked like an aquarium...
Until the sharks grew legs.
But this?
This was full-on prehistoric.
A Jurassic world.
---
And I didn't have to wonder for long.
Because not ten seconds later, I heard something stomp through the underbrush ahead.
Then another roar—closer this time.
And then, from behind a treeline, it stepped into view:
A Tyrannosaurus rex.
Massive and tiny hands.
Snarling.
Its tail swayed with brutal weight as it sniffed the air, oblivious to the half-naked, scaled, stunned wreck that was me... gaping at it from behind a mossy outcrop.
"This is just karma, isn't it?" I whispered.
After all that rambling about dinosaur movies—how stupid people were for not coming prepared—
Now I was the one stranded on a dino island.
With no gear.
No backup.
No clothes.
And giant boobs.
The universe must be laughing its scaly, fire-breathing ass off.
---
Too fast.
That was the first thing I noticed when I moved.
The T. rex lunged for me with a roar that could break windows.
My body moved before I even thought to dodge.
I shot sideways, leapt a dozen meters up, and landed on a tree branch I hadn't even aimed for.
*Snap-crack-* the branch couldn't handle the weight and gave way immediately.
"Too high! Too high-oh crap-!"
I crashed through the canopy like a pinball, bounced off a trunk, and landed in a crouch on all fours-awkward, wobbling, but somehow alive.
Okay, I told myself, chest heaving. New rule: think twice before pressing the jump button.
The T. rex turned with a ground-shaking thud, its little eyes locked onto me with the kind of focus I usually reserved for discount sushi.
Its jaws opened, teeth longer than my forearms gleaming in the sun, and it charged.
"Alright, let's not die a second time!"
I sprang forward.
But my leap sent me over the damn thing. I tumbled in the air, flailing. "Nonononono-!"
BAM!
I landed on its back. "Ha! Suck it-whoa-nope-!"
The T. rex bucked like a bull at a rodeo, throwing me off.
I bounced once, twice, then skidded through the ferns with all the grace of a drunk walrus.
"This body is freaking annoying!" I muttered, wiping mud and foliage from my new... incredibly inconvenient anatomical upgrades.
It was as if I were hulk in the form of a girl with jiggle physics.
ROOOAAAR!
The beast lunged again, its massive jaws slamming shut just inches from where I had rolled.
I could feel the whoosh of displaced air brush my skin.
"Alright, you lizard."
I darted left, then feinted right.
It tried to follow, but I jumped again-this time just enough to clear its snapping maw and land near its side.
I twisted, kicked at its ribs with one clawed foot, and sent it staggering-barely.
Too weak? Too strong? This body had a weird strength adjustments.
"Plan B then!"
It roared again, this time charging headfirst. I backflipped-too far again-and slammed into a boulder, cracking it in half with my spine.
"Ow. Okay, now you're just making me look bad," I hissed, getting up just in time to see it pivot on its heavy legs. Its nostrils flared.
And then it lunged one last time.
I couldn't dodge. I couldn't run.
So I did the only thing I could.
I screamed and punched upward.
My fist slammed into the roof of its open mouth with every ounce of dragonoid panic I had in my soul.
BOOM.
It wasn't just a punch-it was a detonation.
A burst of force exploded from my fist like a bomb had gone off in its skull. Bone cracked. Blood sprayed.
Its head snapped backward like it got smacked with a goddamn meteor.
And then...
Silence.
The great dinosaur gave one slow, shocked blink-like it was wondering what just happened-before toppling backward with a deep, earth-shaking crash that made the ground heave beneath my feet.
[Level up! ]
[Level up! ]
[Level up! ]
I didn't even celebrate.
I just stood there for a second, chest rising and falling, drenched in warm, wet dinosaur spit and blood.
And then I screamed.
"AAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH-!"
I dropped like a ragdoll.
Fell straight onto my butt with a squelch, trembling, drenched, sore, and completely overwhelmed.
The air was filled with the metallic tang of blood and something disturbingly meaty.
I stared down at myself- I was still naked in the first place, so no clothes were torn yet, soaked in goo, saliva matting my hair, dragon scales coated in red.
I wasn't a proud warrior.
I looked like I'd just been sneezed on by hell.
I slumped.
Just sat there on the forest floor, a jiggly, blood-soaked mess of a guy who used to be a B-rank healer, wondering what the hell had just become of her life.
"...ugh."
---
I sat there for what felt like half an hour, covered in dinosaur goo and my own existential crisis, before I finally whispered the most powerful words in any post-death survival situation:
"...I need clothes."
Being half-naked, blood-soaked, and scaled in the middle of Jurassic hell wasn't exactly empowering.
My dignity was hanging on by a thread-and even that thread was slipping.
Sure, Mavareth's body was tough, beautiful, and probably bulletproof, but walking around looking like the final boss of a weirdly sensual horror movie? Not ideal.
So, I did the only logical thing.
I went back down.
Back into the broken remains of the facility where I woke up, back through the rusted emergency hatch I nearly ripped off earlier.
The rhythm of my own footsteps echoed weirdly against the ruined steel as I climbed down, trying very hard not to crush the ladder this time.
Inside, everything was still wet and overgrown. Ferns pushed through cracked tiles.
Dust caked every surface like frosting. A rat scurried off with what looked suspiciously like a toe in its mouth.
I didn't ask questions.
My first goal: light.
I remembered seeing one earlier.
An old emergency light shaped weirdly like one of those vintage milk bottles, half-buried under moss.
When I finally found it again, I pulled it free, wiping off the dirt and grime with my clawed hand.
The little thing hummed faintly when I tapped the base.
Still had juice.
"Well, you're coming with me," I muttered, tucking it under one arm like a glowing baby bottle.
A very radioactive baby bottle.
Honestly, I wasn't going to think too hard about that.
Next: clothes.
There were remnants of uniforms and old clothes scattered around the facility-torn shirts, hazard gear, even a boot stuck in the wall like someone got hit with a shockwave mid-change.
I found one shirt bunched under a collapsed desk.
It was oversized. Dirty. Brownish stains coated the fabric-probably dried blood, maybe soil, maybe both.
The smell was... tolerable after you stopped breathing through your nose.
Still, it was the best I could do.
"Sorry, random lab guy," I said, tugging it over my head. "I'm borrowing your wardrobe."
I winced as the soft cloth rubbed against the scales on my arms and back. Not painful, just... weird.
Everything about this body was weird.
The way my claws clicked against the floor.
The way I had to adjust every few steps because my balance was off thanks to new proportions.
The way my tail tried to knock over everything behind me like a drunk third leg.
Still, I had a shirt now.
And then, jackpot.
A lab coat.
Tattered, yes.
One sleeve was missing entirely, and the pockets were torn.
But it was long, had buttons, and crucially-it gave me coverage.
I pulled it on over the shirt.
Between the too-big tee and the torn coat, I probably looked like I'm a girl who had stolen her boyfriend's clothes after a long night and then gone dumpster diving.
"Fashion of the future," I muttered, looking down at myself. "Caveman chic meets post-apocalyptic thrift store."
Feeling marginally less exposed, I moved toward the stream that ran through the cracks in the ceiling-still trickling quietly into a puddle near the back of the room.
I crouched, dipped the shirt I wasn't wearing into the cool water, and scrubbed it out.
The blood came out slowly. So did the smell. Probably because it had soaked into the fabric years ago.
After washing, I draped it over a jutting pipe to dry, propping the emergency light beside it like a campfire.
Then I sat down and sighed again.
---
It started with a lighter.
A tiny, half-burnt plastic thing buried in the drawer of a rusted filing cabinet next to someone's fossilized mug of coffee.
The label on it said "No Smoking in Biohazard Areas," which was hilarious considering I found it next to a stack of expired rations and two handguns wrapped in a shredded lab report titled "Rapid Hormonal Mutation in Reptilian Mammals."
So much for OSHA compliance.
"Jackpot," I muttered, holding up the gun like a looted candy bar.
I wasn't a shooter by trade-I'd been a healer, damn it.
My job used to be standing behind hot-blooded idiots, patching them up while they got all the glory.
But every Awakener was taught the basics.
Especially the Porters, the people who weren't strong enough to fight but were still dragged into dungeons to carry bags, stabilize wounds, and die first when things went wrong.
And I was starting to think my whole party had been made of Porters who didn't know it.
I took inventory:
Two handguns. One semi-auto, one revolver.
Three mostly-full ration packs.
Six unopened water bottles.
A pack of matches.
One blessed lighter.
A cracked radio that only played static and one cursed jingle.
And a pair of sunglasses that were at least three sizes too small for my current head.
With everything spread out in front of me like loot in an RPG pause screen, I let out a sigh and nodded to myself.
"Not bad. Not bad at all."
I smiled-proud, maybe even smug. So what if I used to be the healer in the back? I was alive.
I was adapting. I wasn't some helpless support anymore.
But that pride faded quickly.
Because as I sat back, eyes skimming over the neatly organized loot, one thought crept into my head like a parasite.
This is enough for a week.
Maybe ten days if I stretched it.
And then what?
My stomach answered the question with a long, low growl.
"...Shit."
---
I stood before the T. rex carcass like it was an offering from hell.
It had been a few hours since I'd caved in its skull. The thing was huge, like a building made of meat.
And now it was just lying there. Rigid. Intimidating. Smelling faintly of death and somehow, weirdly, cinnamon?
"I can't believe I'm doing this."
Predator meat wasn't ideal.
Stringy, gamey, full of toxins if the monster had a bad diet.
But this wasn't the time to get picky.
I was a dragonoid now.
I figured my digestion was tougher than the average grill chef's.
So I cut off a slab-more like tore it, since my claws worked better than any kitchen knife-and skewered it onto a rebar rod.
Campfire. Dirt. Me in a tattered lab coat with bloodstains and one functioning button.
This was my life now.
I roasted the dinosaur meat like a sad marshmallow.
It sizzled, smoked, and turned a shade of red that wasn't entirely unpleasant.
When I bit into it, I expected something awful.
But...
"Soft?" I blinked. "Wait, it's actually tender?"
No, maybe because I'm actually chewing harder than I thought I was?
That should be the case...
Not bad. Not amazing either-kind of like gator mixed with overcooked pork-but edible.
Still chewing, I glanced around at the forest beyond the facility, then up at the sky. Something was still off.
No status window had appeared when the T. rex first attacked me. No system prompt. No name.
Even themed dungeons still had basic rules. A little [Tyrannosaurus Rex - Lv 24] label should've floated above that thing's head.
But there had been nothing.
"...This is supposed to be a dungeon, right?" I whispered.
It wasn't a question I could answer. Not yet.
So I shook my head, pushed it aside, and went back to chewing.
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(A/N: 3891 Words)