Single continuous uninterrupted cinematic shot, no cuts, one flowing 15-second take. Desaturated cool palette with warm amber accents, deep shadow falloff, fine 35mm grain. Photorealistic live-action film, NOT animated, NOT a video game, NOT CGI render. A tense body-horror transformation at an archaeological expedition dig site in a vast sun-scorched desert at harsh midday, heat shimmer, drifting sand and dust.

The shot opens at extreme ground level on a SMALL black desert scorpion — only palm-sized, realistic natural scale — ALREADY sprinting at full speed across the sand from the very first frame, mid-run, never stationary, the camera tracking low and fast right beside it. It races across open ground, weaving past scattered expedition gear — brushes, trowels, open crates, ropes, dusty boots of crew members — a long fast ground-level chase.

Still in the same unbroken shot, the small scorpion reaches a man crouched at the dig — the man [IMAGE REFERENCE], in a dusty khaki expedition field shirt with rolled sleeves, utility vest, cargo pants and glasses. He holds a small ancient artifact up in both hands close to his face, calm and completely unaware, carefully examining and inspecting its fine details, turning it slowly to study the carvings, fully absorbed and fascinated by the small relic. The scorpion suddenly leaps onto the back of his hand. ONLY at the moment it lands does he react — he flinches hard, startled. The camera stays locked on the scorpion, following it closely as it scurries fast up his forearm, over his shoulder, onto his neck, and jabs its stinger hard into his neck.

Only now does the camera ease back slightly to a medium shot: he cries out, slaps the scorpion off and flings it away, stumbling to his feet, gripping his neck in pain and confusion. Glowing sickly yellow-green venom veins spread from the sting across his neck and face as he convulses, his body warping and hardening into a monstrous humanoid scorpion creature — glossy dark chitinous exoskeleton with segmented armored plates, serrated pincers forming from his hands, glowing venomous yellow-green eyes, a massive segmented scorpion tail with a dripping stinger arching over his back.

The shot stays close for the finale — a raw handheld medium shot, the camera shaking and reactive like real documentary footage, staying tight on the creature as it screeches and rampages through the dig site, thrashing its pincers and tail, knocking over crates and equipment, while terrified crew members in matching khaki outfits sprint past the camera in panic, dust kicking up, the handheld camera jostling among the chaos, gritty and real. No aerial view, no wide shot — stay in the chaos at ground level until the end. No music.