Under a storm-choked sky, the harvesters of Colony Theta continue their programmed routines. Once built to reap crops, the autonomous machines now comb the wasteland for organic matter of any kind.
Between the rotating blades, a creature darts through the ruined field, its movements quick, panicked, its body twisted with mechanical grafts and pulsing wires. A scanning sensor blinks atop its skull, marking it for collection. The harvesters close in from all sides, their logic unchanged. The system no longer recognizes the difference between yield and life.
(c) Prompt by Worldbuilderscifi
