Listen to Ava: Flock-mind
Thousands of birds swarmed through the sky like a great, migratory organism — swelling, shrinking, pulsing according to an invisible rhythm only they could feel. They flew over the countryside, darkening the sky for long moments where they passed, utterly silent but for the shrring sound of a million wings feverishly beating the air. They flew in unison, guided by the flock-mind, away from forests and fields and toward a distant jungle of metal and glass.
They flew high over that city, dipping in and out of clouds, before dropping as one toward the towering buildings below. They fell, and the voice rising up from below, amplified a thousand times over, caused them to burst into bloody gobbets of flesh and feather.
Only one bird survived.
Only one bird flew toward the city’s center.
Only one bird darted through a broken window and landed on a surface just a few feet away from the city’s only other living inhabitant.
Only one bird bowed to Ava.
Only one bird had a message to deliver.