A few hours later and the heron is shocked awake realizing he fell asleep. “Hello?” He called out on the phone, rubbing the base of his beak to relieve any pressure from the slumber.

“Hello, Lyam. Is everything okay?” The doctor asked, concerned about the sudden callout.

“No! Why did you let me sleep?! Now the place is going to close soon!” He bolted out of the chair, scrambled to grab the papers and his coat once more.

“W-What do you mean? I don’t-” Red seemingly confused on what is happening.

“Forget it! We will talk about it later!” The detective squawked, slamming  the phone onto the telephone shoulder, and frantically rushing  out of the office. 

Lyam quickly made his way towards the insurance agency, bursting through their doors, and walking straight to the front desk. “I am a detective and need to talk about the laundromat on Emu-se Lane.”

“I am sorry, sir, but I would need you to get an appointment.” The bird at the front desk said, glaring up for only a second.

Annoyed by the situation, Lyam dug into his pockets, pulling out a card from his agency. “I don’t think you understand how urgent this is!” He exclaimed, not realizing how much he raised his voice. He was getting looks from other avians already. 

“And I don’t think you understand how busy we are.” The representative replied, “I can get you an appointment in…” They started to blindly flipping through papers, but the detective knew too well this was a ploy, who knew he would be here was another question. “How does 2 months sound?”

“T-Two months!?” Lyam was left in disbelief, but it also confirmed his suspicions. “Understood, then I'll be on my way.” The heron left the establishment, slamming the door and grew irritated walking back.

“I should have never listened to her, I should have left right away.” The detective grumbled to himself, “Now the Owls are one step ahead of me, again.” 

It felt uncomfortable, drifting back into such familiar waters. To always feel beneath everyone, always lagging behind, and always the one that delays the schedule; to always being told to just go along with everyone else and just do what’s being told; to be mocked for being slow, being sloppy, clumsy and stupid. 

When he first talked to Red, things started to improve. He thought everything was about to change for him there on out, but of course things went back to how it always was. During his time with Red, the heron felt nothing more than boosted confidence, hiding the loser he felt deep down.

Once again feeling overwhelmed, Lyam stomped his way down the streets. Questioning every decision he has made ever since he worked on this case, all the way back at the police station. He asked himself why he bothered with anything at all, and wanted to hear none of the answers that popped into his mind. Despite absolutely hating the negative spiral he was caught in, he couldn’t get out. It was like an echo chamber where each time he delved back into his own despair, the thoughts became louder and more painful to bear. 

Lyam had the feeling of wanting to shut himself out completely. To ignore the public calls, his family, and even Red. There wasn’t anything they could do to help, nor did he want them to. Distressed and desperate for relief, the heron felt the need to silence the voices and doubts with a stiff drink.

'Was this the best option? To drown my sorrows in an attempt to feel some semblance of true happiness? Instead of being led on through this case, with hidden affections for a doctor I haven't even met?' The words pounded through Lyam's head.

The only thing that broke his unwavering attention was another bird bumping into him, knocking both of them to the ground. “Watch where you’re going! Out of this entire city, you can’t bump into any other birds?” The heron spoke out, as he got up from the ground.

Before him was a familiar white-feathered cockatoo, the same one he saw before in the city center, always rambling about some crazed nonsense to other people. The delusional bird was hastily picking up papers that were knocked out from his hands. Hesitantly, Lyam took a moment to help the other bird gather their belongings. 

“I-I’m so sorry, sir. I’m just trying to get the public to understand what’s at stake here.” The cockatoo stuttered his words as he tried to explain everything. “Whispers.” He mumbled. “Whispers from our telecommunication lines.” It certainly got Lyam’s attention. 

“They don’t tell you about these things on the news, that’s why I’m here to get the message out.” He continued. “Mind control. Breaking physical boundaries. Extraterrestrial creatures. Dimensional entities. Is it benign or hostile? It’s unclear…” Many of the terms that followed the cockatoo’s ramblings were all scientific mambo-jumbo in Lyam’s ears. “They are tapping into the electric frequencies of our brains, making us see, hear, or even feel a certain way! Brainwashing us! Overloading our neural capacities, and causing us to believe everything they are saying! They are on the phones! Televisions! Radios!” 

“Wait, wait…. Wait- You mentioned the phones?” The detective began to ask, cutting off the cockatoo. “These- beings you call them, they would just appear, right? Like at a time you need them, too. As if you pick up the phone and they’re already there, sorta thing, right?” Lyam asked as if questioning his own sanity, utilizing the conversation at hand as proof that he was just as crazy as the bird before him. 

“They speak directly to you?” The bird was in awe. “Is that why I can’t communicate with them anymore? They hung up the call?” He went into deep thought for a few seconds. “No no, I can still detect them, they are still there. I just can’t seem to get them to react in any way.”

“So have you figured out what they are? You said they were aliens or something?” Lyam asked, finally coming to some conclusion of who or what Red is.

“It’s a possibility, yes.” The cockatoo leaned in closer, wondering if he got someone’s attention about the matter at hand. “Or from a different frequency or plane or- Well, you get the idea.”

“Thank you, Mister…?” It was then that the detective realized he didn’t know the bird’s name.

“Dewpatch. Timothy Dewpatch. It was a pleasure talking to you. So nice to have someone finally listen. If it’s not too much trouble, may I go to your place to conduct my studies-” Regardless of the heron asking for his name, Lyam was spacing out thinking of everything he was just told, and started running back to the office while Timothy talked. “O-Okay, you have a nice day, bye…” The cockatoo awkwardly waved at him as he left in a hurry. 

‘It couldn’t just be a coincidence.’ Lyam thought to himself, realizing the similarities between what the crazy bird just told him and his experience with Red. The heron’s paranoia became the new negativity he was spiraling down now. He quickened his footsteps and rushed back to the office building as fast as he could. ‘Mind control?’ ‘Aliens?’ ‘Talking through phones?!’ These words kept repeating in his head, and the more it did, the more it vexed him.