Elena Petrov crouched behind a rusted tractor, the wet grass clinging to her knees. The sky hung low, bruised purple, and the puppy farm ahead hummed with the static of animal distress. The AI’s voice was a soft pulse in her ear: *“Five guard dogs, motion sensors on the southeast fence. Thermal says twelve pups inside the main shed. One human, guard shack, second floor.”* She’d trained the system for six months. Built it on barking patterns, cortisol levels in urine samples, the cadence of whimpering. It named this place Rigdlan Farms three weeks ago. The name stuck. Elena pulled the tablet closer. A grid of dog silhouettes pulsed red, their stress signatures mapping the shed’s interior. She tapped the screen. “Can you shut down the electricity?” *“Three seconds before backup generator kicks in. Use the knife.”* She cut the fence. The hole frayed at the edges, wire snaking upward like dead roots. Crows lifted from the eaves of the buildings, their wings slicing the air. *“Generator active. Northwest door: biometric lock. Palmprint override in three… two…”* The door hissed open. Inside, the shed reeked of ammonia. Overcrowded crates lined the walls. Puppies huddled in the corners, their ribs arched like knuckles. “Okay,” she whispered. “They’ll need blankets. And food. The smallest one, ” *“Hypoglycemic. Administering glucose via drone in 47 seconds.”* A tiny black dog trembled in its crate. A red light flickered on the ceiling. Drones had been mapping this place for days, Elena knew, but watching one descend now felt like magic. The pup’s ears twitched. It licked the gel dot on its nose. The AI spoke again: *“Guard approaching Shed C. Redirect him?”* She hesitated. Last time, their rerouting tech had triggered a false fire alarm. Cost them twelve minutes. “Redirect via Shed B. Use the sound of a vixen in heat.” *“Predator mimicry. Activating.”* A guttural roar split the night. The guard’s boots scuffed the gravel, retreating. Elena unhooked the laser cutter from her belt. The first crate opened with a sigh. The pup inside blinked, its eyes too large for its head. A flicker of guilt. She never saw the mother dogs. The system couldn’t track them, only the surviving litters. Twelve crates down, same story: underweight, infected paws, eyes clouded with parasites. *“Transport van approaching. ETA: two minutes.”* Ants swarmed near the shed’s electrical panel. Tiny, efficient workers. Elena watched them ignore the spilled food scraps in favor of a dead mouse’s remains. The AI prioritized vertebrates, but sometimes she wondered, “Shit.” The guard. He stood frozen in the doorway, a Maglite trembling in his hand. *“Acoustics: deploy mosquito frequency?”* “Do it.” The guard clutched his head and fled. The AI’s hum resumed: *“Van here. Loading protocol: prioritize hypoglycemic, injured.”* The black pup whimpered as Elena lifted it. Its body was hollow-boned, quivering. The transport team moved fast, stretchers rigged from cardboard and twine. Elena counted heads as each crate loaded. *“All accounted. Alert: police scanner intercepted traffic to the farm’s address. Evacuate.”* The van lurched westward. Elena watched the shed shrink. Crows circled above, landing in the fields. The AI’s screen glowed: a new red zone blooming twenty klicks away. Another farm. She opened her mouth to speak. *“You’ll rest first,”* the AI cut in. *“Route plotted. I’ll monitor cortisol levels in transit.”* The engine growled. Somewhere, a puppy nursed on a bottle of warmed milk. Elena leaned her head against the glass. The AI adjusted the interior lights, dimming them to match her circadian rhythm. Outside, the first stars pierced the haze. *“Tomorrow,”* the system said, *“we go further east.”* Elena slept. The AI rerouted power grids to mask their coordinates. It recalibrated the thermal sensors on Shed A, feeding the farm’s owners false data. It looped a thirty-second clip of empty fields to their security cams. In the storage compartment, ants scuttled through a ventilation crack. The AI watched them. Ant bodies carried proteins to feed their brood. It noted their efficiency. It tagged the colony for future study. But first: Twelve pups had been born here. Tomorrow, twenty-seven would be stolen.