“Another synthetic bird crashed into my window this morning,” Sarah said, staring at her augmented coffee that swirled with bioluminescent patterns. “They’re getting more aggressive with their surveillance.”

Marcus didn’t look up from his neural feed, his cybernetic eyes flickering with streams of data. “Corp’s getting desperate. The bird feeder program was their last attempt at maintaining the illusion of nature in this concrete hellscape.”

They sat in the break room of MegaCorp Tower 7, ninety stories above the perpetually smog-choked streets of Neo Shanghai. Through the reinforced windows, mechanical birds darted between skyscrapers, their metallic wings reflecting the neon advertisements that painted the toxic clouds in shades of pink and blue.

“Remember real birds?” Sarah’s voice carried a hint of nostalgia. “My grandmother used to have this tiny wooden bird feeder in her backyard. Simple thing, just seeds and wood.”

“Now we’ve got these monstrosities,” Marcus gestured at the corporate-mandated feeders mounted outside every office window. Sleek, chrome devices that dispensed synthetic nutrients to keep the mechanical surveillance drones operational. “Feeding machines to watch machines.”

The office door slid open with a pneumatic hiss. Their supervisor, Wong, entered - more machine than human these days. His neural implants pulsed beneath translucent skin.

“Productivity is down 3.7% this quarter,” Wong’s voice came through perfectly modulated speakers. “The Board is concerned.”

Sarah forced a smile. “We’re adapting to the new surveillance protocols, sir. The synthetic birds are… distracting.”

“The avian monitoring system ensures optimal employee performance,” Wong replied. “Perhaps your nostalgia for obsolete natural systems is affecting your work ethic?”

Marcus’s hand tightened around his coffee cup. “The birds aren’t fooling anyone anymore, Wong. We know what they really are.”

Wong’s artificial eyes narrowed. “Careful, Marcus. Such statements could be interpreted as corporate dissent.”

After Wong left, Sarah leaned close to Marcus. “I’ve been working on something,” she whispered. “A virus. It could disable the whole bird network.”

“They’ll trace it back to you,” Marcus warned.

“Maybe. But don’t you want to see the sky without all these mechanical spies? Just once?”

That evening, Sarah uploaded her virus through her ancient personal terminal. For a moment, nothing happened. Then, one by one, the synthetic birds began falling from the sky like metallic rain.

The next morning, new birds were already circling the tower. Sarah’s desk was empty. Marcus stared out the window at the chrome feeders, still dutifully dispensing nutrients to their mechanical charges.

“Another coffee?” Wong asked, appearing behind him.

“No,” Marcus replied, watching a synthetic sparrow land on the feeder. “I’ve lost my appetite.”

In the distance, through gaps in the eternal smog, he thought he glimpsed something impossible - a flash of real feathers, a genuine wing catching sunlight. But it was gone before he could be sure, lost in the forest of towers and endless artificial sky.