Before its power cells finally dimmed, the I-Griffin 18x1 sent out one final signal into the void. It wasn't a map or a command. It was a single image of a wildflower growing through concrete.
Deep within a decommissioned bunker, the "I-Griffin" (Intelligence-Griffin) hummed to life. The designation was its paradox: it possessed the sensory processing power of eighteen distinct apex predators, yet all were funneled into a single, agonizingly sharp consciousness.
It mapped the trajectory of every bird within a five-mile radius.