Deacon parks his hovercraft in front of a nice apartment complex called The Shimmer. His mind wanders as he enters the apartment building and makes his way to the front door of room three twenty-two, Sebastian’s apartment. He presses his thumb against the keyhole. There is a quiet clicking sound and the door is unlocked. Before opening the door, Deacon subtly twirls his left wrist, loosening a bracelet composed of olive-sized Damascus steel beads.

He enters the dark apartment, locking the door behind him. He leaves the lights off. He carefully blinks his eyes, pressing his lids together with precise intent. This activates Deacon’s Iris system; a cybernetic implant that can be used to scan objects, retrieve information, take pictures, and display various wavelengths of light. The Iris system detects the dark environment and automatically switches to infrared vision.

Sebastian’s apartment is a grand space with polished hardwood floors and neutral beige walls. It has a host of luxurious amenities such as in-unit laundry, a large balcony, modern appliances, and a large walk-in closet.

"This place is huge!" Deacon mumbles to himself.

The apartment is minimally furnished and covered with a layer of dust. So much so that commonly tread paths are visible to the bare eye.

"Rich people…" He shakes his head, annoyed to see this fancy living space in such an unappreciated state.

There is a rapid knock at the balcony door.

"Perfect timing." He says quietly.

He pulls back the curtains of the balcony and carefully opens one of the doors. Perched on the balcony railing, a crow sits patiently.

Deacon signals for the crow to enter. It flaps its wings and swoops into the room with an eerie silence. It flies over to the edge of Sebastian’s kitchen counter and perches precariously atop the empty merlot bottle.

"Is that… the best spot?" Deacon whispers.

The crow stares back silently, maintaining its balance without issue.

"Alright." Deacon smirks.

He taps his right temple and a tiny blue dot of light appears on the side of his forehead. The little light blinks twice, then fades away as it establishes a wireless connection with the crow.

"Good evening, Detective Blue." The crow’s operator communicates with a telepathic voice contained within Deacon’s mind.

Deacon responds in kind without moving his mouth. "Evening, crow. How was the flight?"

"The flight was fine. This vessel is operating at its fullest capability—" They say.

"Alright. Should I go first, or do you have something pressing to tell me?" Deacon interrupts.

"Phantasma recommends that you conduct a hands-off investigation of this domicile. Scanners only."

"And why would mother crow make such a suggestion?" He asks with a biting sarcasm.

"Due to Pablo Polard’s stolen vehicle report, the Lunar Vanguard have scheduled a survey of the apartment tomorrow morning."

"Damn it. That’s right. Wait, what happened to the original driver’s report? I watched him call the Vanguard after the pirates swiped the hovercraft."

"The incident occurred beyond Oasis’ grid reference sector. It may take another business day for the Vanguard to make the connection." They explain.

"That’s a shame. Well, I guess I’ll have no time to rest here." Deacon sighs out loud with a wordless frustration.

"The Bureau has procured a hotel room for you."

"Oh, that’s good news. Though in worse news, there’s a Thaumaturge facility here. In town."

The crow audibly emits a short tone, a burst of quick clacks to signal that it’s processing new information.

"This is a surprising development, Detective. Present your evidence whenever you are ready."

"Well, I… I’ll need you to confirm. I spotted a pair of prismatic relays at the top of the city wall. A psionic could pilot a combat android across the entirety of the Iridescence from here."

The crow clacks again.

"Inaccurate. But understood." The crow communicates. "We will send this vessel on a surveillance sweep around the city perimeter. Is there anything else you require, Detective?"

"Yes. You owe me a written report on Moreno." Deacon smiles, extending his hand out expectantly.

The crow clacks. "Affirmative. It seems that the last psionic operator withheld this information from the case log."

"Hey hey. No harm, no foul. You’re good at your job. Yadda yadda..." Deacon conveys with telepathic sarcasm.

The crow opens its beak wide. Then wider. There is a soft click and the crow’s mandibles spread much wider than they should. A thin brass tube is then silently and steadily regurgitated from the bird’s stomach, only extending halfway out from its throat. This disturbing sight doesn’t affect Deacon at all. Without hesitation, he pulls the brass tube out from the crow’s beak. There is a tiny tab in the tube’s rounded side. Deacon pulls the tab and a long receipt-like scroll unfurls out of a thin slot along the tube’s length. He quickly skims through the report before releasing the tab, allowing the report to roll itself closed.

"Alright. Thanks. Check in every hour. If those pyramids are connected to Thaumaturge, then we’re in trouble. Be careful." He says.

"You are the only one who is truly in danger here, Detective." The crow responds as it clicks its mandibles back into place.

"…Yeah. Fair point."

"May Phantasma’s eye watch over you."

"Alright, get out of here." Deacon says out loud.