Richie Incognito must lead.

The two have not spoken. They probably never will again.

Martin gives anti-bullying speeches in California. He tells crowds that bullying led to suicidal thoughts.

Incognito is here. Moving on.

"Jonathan and I were close friends, and everything went down the way it did," Incognito says. "Now, he has to live with that. I have to live with the consequences, and so does he. Because at the end of the day, me and him are the only two who know exactly what happened."

To Incognito, the story has been "refocused," a nod to Martin's lengthy Facebook post in which he revealed his depression dated back to childhood. Meanwhile, here, players are suspended or injured daily. Shaq Lawson and Reggie Ragland—drafted one-two to fix a comatose defense—are both injured. Karlos Williams gained 40 pounds, was suspended for substance abuse and cut loose. Marcell Dareus is in rehab.

Incognito tried. By God, he tried.

He pulled Williams aside for several conversations. He met with Dareus, listened to Dareus. Those talks, he says, will remain confidential.

Those talks never sparked change.

"The biggest thing is giving into it and saying, 'You know what, I have a problem. I'm f--king up,'" he says. "Enough bad stuff has to happen to you to get to that point. You're young, you're brash, you're having success, and it kind of falls into the pattern of, 'I'm doing everything right.' But you've got to make that conscious decision of 'I'm going to change my life. I have a problem.'"

The conversation shifts to Seantrel Henderson. The right tackle endured a hellacious summer. Through two surgeries in relation to Crohn's disease, the 24-year-old needed a bag attached to him to relieve himself and then had his intestines reattached. Yet there's concern, not sympathy, in Incognito's voice.

He's well aware that Henderson was suspended three times in college for marijuana use and flunked a drug test at the NFL scouting combine. He sees his work ethic up close. Incognito hopes such misery serves as a wake-up call.

"I hope it showed him how lucky he is to be in this position," Incognito says. "And it just goes back to the change can't be made until the person, the individual, wants to make the change. Hopefully going through a traumatic experience like that is all he needs."

Exactly one week later, reports surfaced that Henderson will be suspended four games by the NFL for substance abuse. Marijuana can be used to treat Crohn's disease, yes, but Incognito also knows the drug can GPS a young player into a black hole.

Simply ask the people he called at 3 a.m.

So he wants to be Buffalo's hero. The most unlikely, unfathomable leader has emerged to once and for all end the longest playoff drought in professional sports.

"If there's anyone in that locker room who can understand what's going on right now, how to wrap their mind around it, it's me," Incognito says. "Been there, done that, came back stronger."

For the Bills, this was the gamble all along. What if there isn't someone there to yell, "New Richie!" when he goes too far? What if 2016 rolls along perfectly, he gets comfortable and tricks himself into thinking he can party just a bit harder, and those "doses" become binges? What if there truly is rage boiling inside of him and he's in denial?

He's asked the question once more: Who is Richie Incognito?

This time, Incognito points to his first conversation with owners Terry and Kim Pegula. Both told him he can "rewrite" his narrative in Buffalo. Change opinions. Change his life. When millions watch Incognito on TV this season, the truth is, millions will already have permanent answers to the question.

Incognito knows he cannot change those minds. He can, however, work this locker room.

"They spend five to 10 minutes with me, and they realize, 'Oh wait, this guy's not a monster.' People who've never met me? I've let go of that," he says. "I can only control what I can control: how I act around these guys and how my teammates respect me."

Miller walks by. He's shooting home for the weekend to see his family. His mother died last October.

When he's not needling Scumbag Chuck, Incognito is standing up to give Big John a hug.

No, Richie Incognito has no clue how Richie Incognito will be remembered. But he's still playing football.

Bursting out of his compression shirt, he purses his lips and nods.

"It's time to flip the switch. It's f--king go-time. We've got to be some f--king animals."

Tyler Dunne covers the NFL for Bleacher Report. Follow him on Twitter at @TyDunne.