121 Fortune’s Fool

A/N: Once again, thank you, wonderful reader, Aikoya, for your ideas and suggestions about how to tie in Magnifi’s divine intervention and guidance, along with having the good Professor tie into the story of Phoenix’s quest in solving the Apollo/Trucy mystery connection. Plus I really wanted to give those mystical Gramarye bracelets a bit of backstory (in an attempt to fill in some of the copious AJ plot holes!)

Also guys, please note that Nick and Maya’s split was March 3, 2025, which will explain QUITE A BIT…

“Everyone is special; every moment in our life is unique. However difficult or painful a situation may look in the present, it soon becomes a memory and a special journey. Memories make us who we are, but they also start declining with age. There are many ways to preserve these special moments so that we can cherish a story that’s our own.”

Phoenix Wright
Wright Talent Agency
January 9, 2025

“What the hell?” Phoenix jerked up in his bed, shaking his head with confusion at the colorful recollections of the strange dream he’d just awoken from. “Why did I have that crazy dream again?”

Shaking his head, he glanced over at the clock on his night table and saw that it was only 4:00 AM.

“Why do I keep dreaming about that Apollo kid’s weird bangle over and over again? I don’t know what my mind is trying to tell me! I’ve already realized he’s going to be the lawyer who helps clear my name! I also know that he’s going to be working for Kristoph Gavin when he graduates, but that’s not going to be for another two years!  In the meantime, there’s nothing for me to do but wait, just like I’ve been doing for the past six damn years! Therefore, I’ve no earthly idea what in Sam Hill  my mind is trying to tell me?!”

Grumbling to himself, he tried to punch his pillow back into shape and tried to force himself back into blissful shut-eye.

I never cared about accessories, on either men or women, in my entire life! So what is so goddamn special about that gold bracelet of Apollo’s that my subconscious just won’t let go of?!

 Phoenix Wright’s Journal
March 6, 2025

The research notes and paraphernalia I showed Maya at Christmas, with regards to Apollo and my progress in regaining my badge was not the full story. My journal of research is still incomplete, ergo, I couldn’t very well include this notebook along with her package of accrued information.  However, now that Kristoph, PSYCHOTIC, STALKER BASTARD that he is, left me with no choice but to abolish the love of my life, it would’ve all been for naught anyway.

I’m hoping resuming the composition of my thoughts shakes me out of this bleakness and funk I’m in. But with Maya no longer in my life, I doubt it.

I tried it, I couldn’t find it
Now I just wanna get back to me
Back into the man I used to be

That’s just it. I USED to be happy. Um, yeah, past tense. Sucks, I know. Still, I keep hoping someday, I’ll forget this feeling of an atramentous cloud of tribulation hanging over me, and figured it’ll help to write it all down and bring back some of the sunshine in my world.  I used to write – even though it was just some reports about those dumb Samurai shows on the DVDs Maya got me for Christmas. Maybe I should start those again, just so that someday, perhaps she’ll somehow know I cared enough to keep my word and that I completed them.

I don’t really write anything more; I guess I couldn’t really be bothered because it seemed scary, but mostly it seems even more ridiculous that it somehow seems scary. So now I just have this paper, this stupid book of blank paper, onto which I’m supposed to pour my innermost thoughts and feelings. And what the hell am I supposed to do with that? Feel happy?

Well, I –I don’t.

It… it just sucks.

I’m still having those weird dreams about the young law student and his bracelet, and for some reason, I have this inexplicably weird, gut feeling that there’s something more to that gold accessory than meets the eye, something that I don’t think even the young man himself is fully mindful of just yet.

On the topic of otherworldly powers, the guilt of using my young daughter to maintain my unbeatable winning poker streak eats away at my conscience daily, even though it’s a necessary means to keep me employed and help keep us fed, clothed, and sheltered.

In addition to investigating my own situation, I’ve been trying to figure out Trucy’s power, thus far, to no avail. Maybe if I research the Gramarye family, I can find ways to help her, so she doesn’t get such frequent bouts of cephalalgia from using her special talents anymore. Whenever we come home from poker tournaments, her headaches, probably as a result of having to use her keen perceptive abilities so intently, are increasing in frequency, along with the level of pain. They’ve graduated to full-blown migraines now, which often keep her up at night while gnawing at my guilty soul and battered heart like rabid rats as I desperately do whatever I can to alleviate the agony of the only remaining light in my life.

From what I can tell, Trucy’s power is a genetic trait passed down by blood, but how can I help her control it so it won’t hurt her so much anymore?

Phoenix Wright’s Journal
April 28, 2025

Iris called me a couple of days ago to let me know about the Spanish Inquisition she was forced to endure for my sake at the hands of her prying little half-sister, who paid her an impromptu and unpleasant visit recently at Hazakura Temple. I hadn’t counted on how astute little Pearls could be, and I cannot believe the sweet, innocent nun was actually able to lie convincingly, considering that ever-present magatama the teenage spirit medium ALWAYS wears! Unlike Maya, I’ve never seen Pearls take her own off, so it’s a miracle Iris got away with that bluff, probably by the skin of her teeth!

The goodhearted shrine maiden wanted me to come up and visit her, as she’s very lonely up there at Eagle Mountain, but I had to remind her that while I’m grateful to her for fibbing on my account, it’s for a greater good, there is no point exchanging Maya’s safety for her own. And associating with me would undoubtedly put Iris’s life in peril, in the very same manner that my love’s had been. Ditto with Pearl. But Kristoph was not above stalking Kurain and its surrounding land before, and undoubtedly would not hesitate to do so again if any suspicious reason is given.

That being said, being apart from Pearls hurts like a bitch, as she was the equivalent of Trucy in my heart. It kills me softly every day when I think of how much pain the breakup with Maya must have caused her, which only sends me on an even further downward spiral into despondency.

I am trying to shake this ocean of blackness that’s threatened to consume me since the breakup, if only for Trucy’s sake, but I’m starting to feel it’s an exercise in futility. I’m right back to the same gloom I experienced when I first lost my badge. The feeling is strange; too familiar yet too strange. I never know how to define it. I WANT to smile and laugh along with everyone, but something in me grabs my heart tight and crushes it to pieces. The brightness inside of me is gulped by something dark. No, I would be wrong to say it is dark – it is EMPTY, nothing else. It’s the pain that’s too much to cope with, too hard to deal with, and so misunderstood. I can’t escape it no matter how hard I try, because it follows me around like a black shadow that’s on the inside, eating away at me. I cope by just shrinking away from everyone and everything, trying to make it from one day to the next.

I just don’t feel there’s any point to anything anymore. There is nothing left for me that bears any meaning for me, save for my daughter. I haven’t kept in touch with anybody from my old life since Maya and I split, not even Gumshoe or Larry. Admittedly though, a lot of my reclusiveness is also partially due to my wounded pride, but moreover, my battered, listless élan vital. Avoiding is easier than elaborating. After all, how to possibly explain the KEY REASON FOR MY DISTANCE?  That I’ve (semi) purposely made myself a stranger, because  I honestly think I’m doing my friends a favor by staying as far away from them as possible. Kristoph seems to be able to zero in and target anyone near and dear to me, and if he decided to put any of my best friends on his hit list because of their association with me, I wouldn’t be able to live with myself.

The one person whom I safely COULD contact, because he’s so far away, and I  HAVE tried to reach out to is Edgeworth. Unfortunately, he’s not replied to any of my emails and appears to have fallen off the face of the earth since we last video-chatted with him and Franziska during the holidays. Oh well, even though Edgy’s my best friend, he’s probably busy with his Interpol investigations and the new baby.

I received another email from Sir Layton today. This isn’t the first time the good Professor has tried to reach me, but he is now a world-renowned knighted archaeologist of utmost respect and esteem, and to my great shame, I confess to not being able to have the heart to maintain contact with him, to let him know how far from grace I have fallen since the last time our paths crossed. Hershel Layton is a beloved universal icon and an expert in his field, after all. And me? What am I now? A second-rate pianist/poker shark who slums alongside the underbelly of society? A worthless hobo bum who associates with criminals and dines weekly with latent psychopaths like Kristoph Gavin, in order to maintain our sick ruse of friendship?  

The English gentleman told me that he’d gotten a message from the Kurain Master couple of days ago, indicating that she would be coming to Europe to visit him soon. Good for her. She’s obviously moving on with her life and deserves to see the world around her, outside of that blasted, backward village of hers. The kindly Brit also inquired if I would be joining Maya again this time?

How can I possibly tell him that we have SEVERED ALL TIES? Furthermore, I can’t even afford A NEW PAIR OF SHOES, despite the nearly worn down soles of my sandals, NEVER MIND PLANE TICKETS?

ME, being able to jet off to Europe! Now THAT’S a laugh if I were still CAPABLE OF SUCH!

At times, I wonder if I’ll ever be able to laugh, ever again.

Honestly, most days, since Maya’s been gone, it feels as though my soul is being trampled upon by feet in heavy boots, and even sunshine seems cold.  I find myself standing on the brink of something I can’t describe. The weight of everything seems to press down on my shoulders and I struggle to take even a single step forward. It’s too much. All of it. Yet somehow, out of naught but my love for my Baby Girl, I force myself to keep moving. But every step costs me. The nights grow more sleepless, the darkness grows murkier; the pain grows sharper; all of it seems to only grow in strength and I began to despair if things will ever get better.

Things that I said I wouldn’t do, I did ’em
Secrets below the service of truth I hid ’em
This mankind is past, but can he erase
The tears of a million years is human race
Of animals, that taught to walk upright
Then slave all day and fall in a trance at night
Flowing the planet, trying to find missing links
Like the men we used to be and always supposed to think 

But I never say a word of my inner turmoil. I most certainly cannot burden my teenage daughter with my plight. Sometimes, I wonder if my feigned smile – the horribly fake smile- is ever seen through. Does anyone ever notice that sad, broken look in my eyes that I can see in the mirror? I ponder if they see any sort of pulchritude where I see homeliness. And then I laugh, a bitter, sarcastic laugh, at myself. Nobody cares. No one notices. They never seem to, do they? Nobody can read my poker face.

I walk the long path alone, my feet hurt
Lost some friends along the way, I did dirt
I went to church, I tried everything
From leaving my body, to watching the birds sing
For hours, so I could feel heavenly powers
Had been across the universe and inside of flowers
But what is it worth, I’m still just a man on the earth

I’ve fought for years, even though it seems to be a losing battle. And so I continue to just march on…

Magnifi Gramarye and Helios (Jove) Justice
Heaven
May 6, 2025

“I must tell you, father-in-law dearest,” Apollo’s biological father drawled to the old man seated next to him as they peered down at the earthly scene before them. “I have had six years to get used to your presence up here with me, and I still cannot believe the Lord actually allowed you to pass through the Pearly Gates and didn’t subject you to a lifetime of purgatory for putting your fate into your own hands when you put that bullet to your head.”

Magnifi expelled a heavy sigh as he reluctantly tore his eyes away from the sight of his beloved, bedridden granddaughter, who was literally in tears from the migraine she was presently suffering from, while the lovingly attentive Phoenix attempted to soothe his daughter as he placed a cold washcloth over her forehead.

“God is most compassionate, and understood my quandary, Helios,” he replied morosely, addressing his one-time son-in-law, as always, by his Christian name rather than his stage one. “As the time of my impending death drew nearer, my premonitions grew more and more vivid to me and I knew I was doing the right thing. I always was cognizant that Zak eventually was going to leave them, and what would have happened had my Trucy been raised by someone familiar with the Gramarye family, and its heirlooms, considering my daughter always wore them. There’s no doubt my granddaughter would’ve encountered her brother at some point, and Valant would’ve insisted Apollo had some latent talent in his blood, and then relentlessly trained the boy in the magical arts to the near breaking point! Under my remaining protégé’s forceful command, I could envision both of my dear grandchildren finally cracking under the pressure to be the mesmerizing miracle type of performers that their parents were!”

The legendary magician shuddered at the thought as a haunted look came into his eyes.

“I could clearly forecast their simultaneous, untimely stage deaths in a horrific Houdini flaming coffin escape trick gone wrong when it backfired and caused Apollo to be unable to escape in time, causing his death by asphyxiation while his poor sister became charred to a crisp trying to save him…”

“The same way that I died onstage, and Thalassa herself nearly perished trying to rescue me, had Zak not stopped her from doing so.”

“Now do you understand?” Magnifi cried desperately. “Helios, I so fervently prayed that someday, you could possibly at least try to comprehend why I did what I did, even if you were never able to truly forgive me for the wrongs I made during my time on earth…”

“Please stop, Magnifi,” Helios said gently. “There is no need to torture yourself any longer. God does not condemn you for your chosen actions, and neither do I. You have more than atoned for the wrong you had originally done my son by saving his life at the end when you sacrificed your own in such a manner. There’s nothing left to forgive.”

“It was the one selfless act I chose to do in my life and I don’t regret a thing, Helios!” Magnifi cried. “It was either me or them! I was an old man and I had already lived my life! I did what I had to do!”

“I know.” The former Troupe Gramarye magician smiled softly as Trucy’s pained eyes, at last, drifted into a relieved slumber as Phoenix tiptoed back to his room and crawled into his own bed. “Despite the series of unfortunate events that would commence in the aftermath of your death, I do understand that your focus was entirely on your grandchildren, and not the fugitive lifestyle Trucy’s cowardly snake of a father would then choose, which fated her to meet this wonderful man in blue.”

“Phoenix Wright, the noble, golden-hearted, fortune’s fool!” Magnifi noted gruffly, shaking his head at the troubled-looking former attorney, who was tossing and turning in his sleep now, obviously having problems drowsing off. “Last Yuletide, when Phoenix informed that little purple sprite woman that by blessed chance, he’d found his lawyer, I thought that at last, kismet would be working in my favor! My spirits soared when he finally revealed to his girlfriend he’d discovered the greatness of Apollo, and witnessed the Clarion of Revelations in school trials! Alas, since then, absolutely zero progress has been made to make my premonitions come to fruition! The man is no closer to regaining his badge, and putting my grandchildren into one another’s paths, now, than he was six years ago!”

“Methinks it wasn’t quite enough that you managed to cosmically steer him towards Ivy University last autumn to make him discover my son’s fledgling legal genius in the first place.” The parental pride was unmistakable in Helios’ voice even as he arched an eyebrow at the distraught older man. “Perhaps Phoenix Wright is in further need of divine intervention? We know that he can see ghosts because Maya Fey is a spirit medium… Perhaps he has intrinsic sensitivity to the spirit world on his own accord, however? I surmise it’s about time that you get permission from Our Heavenly Father and perhaps pay Trucy’s Daddy an earthly visit in some manner?”

“I think you may be right.” Magnifi thoughtfully stroked his mustache with his forefinger. “Helios, you’re not only a compassionate man but a wise one as well! I’m sorry I was so foolishly disapproving of you when we were both alive! Although Shadi Enigmar may have been a more superior performer than you were onstage, he is inferior, in every way as a father, man, and human being, compared to you! I curse myself for the blindness of unable being to acknowledge this until it was too late!”

“I told you, I forgave you for everything a long time ago, Magnifi,” Helios assured him. “I can only hope these positive traits of mine are inherited by my son!  In the meantime, as you have decided to take heed my advice, you must now contemplate how to put it into execution.”

“The key obstacle here is that Phoenix, despite his mystical capabilities, is still mortal, ergo there is only so much I will be able to relay to him, being on the other side and no longer of his world,” Magnifi explained. “Nevertheless, I think I may still have figured out how to give these hands of fate just a bit of a further push indeed…”

Phoenix Wright
Wright Talent Agency
May 6, 2025, 9:15 AM

Phoenix felt as though he was in a daze as he mindlessly cleaned up the morning dishes. The morning had appeared no different than any other. He had woken up, prepared breakfast for his little girl, and sent her off to school with a kiss as he did every day. He had gone through all the motions as per usual, but this morning it was as though he had been on autopilot because while his body had been with his daughter, mentally, he was elsewhere; his mind was still wrapped up with the curious dream he had had the night before, more memorable and ingrained in his memory than any other he’d ever had before in his life.

Last night he had dreamed of Trucy’s late grandfather, the catalyst that had begun the wheel of fortune events seven years prior. It was most bizarre, as Phoenix had never even met the man, yet he had prominently seen Magnifi’s intense face and heard his earnest voice as if the old man had been standing right before him.

“The key to solving most of the Gramarye Family mysteries, though, not our magician’s tricks, can be found by looking into our eyes. The answer is in the Heirlooms. To further assist you in discovery upon this journey into the unknown, seek the aid of a gentleman friend whose trademark accessory never wavers from his person. You have my blessing. Take care of my grandchildren… both of them… Moreover, please, remember to take care of yourself, because as much as you seem to be in denial and unable to realize it, you would be leaving behind a small country of grieving hearts if you ever succumbed to the darkness that often threatens to consume you.”

The passionate plea in the magician’s voice was unmistakable.

“Find the truth, Phoenix. Slice through the darkness to find the Truth that lies hidden beneath. And if you do, you will also find that fairies actually do exist and that the one you deemed to be forever lost still awaits you with open arms, and her soul bared. Remember Phoenix, just as the mythical bird for whom you are named possesses tears that can heal the most grievous physical or spiritual injuries, they are also known for their ability to always be able to rise from the ashes… But only… If they choose to do so! Don’t ever lose heart. It will be a long road for you all, filled with suffering and heartache, but despite feeling this seemingly endless sadness will never abate, heed my words! On the wings of a  majestic Phoenix and held aloft by the everlasting love of the Almighty, you will make it… all of you…and you will find joy in your lives once again…”

That was when he’d woken up.

The dream had left Phoenix curious, hopeful, and completely flummoxed with its nebulous message, which was subject to so much interpretation!

‘A gentleman friend whose trademark accessory never wavers from his person?’ He thought to himself now, running an agitated hand through his spikes. Who else could Magnifi have meant besides the cravat-wearing Edgeworth, who I’ve tried to contact now on several occasions, but he’s never replied to me! So what am I supposed to do now?!  He cast an imploring glance heavenward. To whom were you trying to steer me towards, old man?! Answer me this if nothing else!

The answer struck him in the next instant in a flash of blinding light in his mind’s eye, propelling him towards his computer as though he had no control of his body. Phoenix flicked the monitor on, logged into his email account, and hastily went back to Layton’s message from a week ago. An accessory that never wavers…gentleman…top hat! Bingo!

May 6, 2025

Greetings Professor Layton,

I am most remiss in my reply to you, not only with this email but in response to your numerous attempts to contact me over the years and your kindly inquiries wondering about my overall well-being. I plead your forgiveness for my silence, as you’ve undoubtedly been made aware of my inauspicious situation. By this time, I imagine you’ve since crossed paths with Maya on her visit to England, and since discovered that alas, I was not by her side.I realize I have no business asking for your assistance after being out of touch for so long, but I hope your benign heart can find a way to pardon me my follies, as I beseechingly come to you with the ultimate puzzle that requires solving, and I can think of no better source to turn to than the master of puzzle-solving!

I adopted a young girl six years ago, Trucy, whose last name is Gramarye. I learned that it was a French word meaning something along the lines of “study of magic or the occult”. I am attempting to research the Gramarye family history, and am unable to find anything. I would appreciate any assistance in acquiring some more information of relevance, and would be happy to further explain matters to you if you could let me know a good time that we could perhaps speak about this in further detail? I am including my phone number in this email and hope that we can connect soon…

June 21, 2025

Good Day, Mr. Wright,

Once again, do not worry about the expense of my phone bill with regards to the long-distance cost of calling to speak with you as frequently as I have these last few weeks. I assure you that while I am no man of unsurpassed wealth, working as Chief Archaeologist for the Crown most certainly allows me the ability to reach out and connect with an old and dear friend! That’s what a gentleman does!

It has been a great delight being back in touch with the after so long, and my pleasure with our regular correspondence is equally matched to my enthusiasm to have been assisting you with solving this curious puzzle that you brought to my attention a month ago. While I profess this mystery has been one of my greatest to date, I still welcomed the challenge and had little qualms taking the time to apply some creative thinking! A true gentleman leaves no puzzle unsolved! 

Given the French origins of the Gramarye family, my research took to the Catacombs of Paris. It was there where I encountered the most complex series of puzzles I’d ever encountered in all my years in archaeology. I assure you these were no ordinary puzzles, either; puzzles made by ancient scholars with a flair for trickery and a zest for mischief. With complex equations for chemical compounds, mythological theory, philosophy, constellations, and other things that quite frankly give me quite the exhilarating blood rush through my veins! At last, I stumbled upon a circular room with crumbling tablets framing the walls. The room itself was like an ancient chemistry lab with broken beakers & what appeared to resemble Bunsen Burners. The floor below me seemed to be a fully realized Star Chart. 

My attention then turned to the wall tablets.  It took me a moment to realize that all the text seemed to be in a very clever hybrid dialect meant specifically to misdirect, making me realize that I would need more time to decipher this particular code. Nonetheless, I stood by my motto that every puzzle has an answer! Brilliant! French Alchemy Tablets that had never been searched for before… what better place to hide something like these than in the largest most labyrinthine gravesite in France? 

After briefly scanning over the tablet, I paused when my eye caught a certain collection of characters that stood out more than the rest, some sort of ancient dialect from the catacombs. They appeared familiar, so I immediately contacted Dean Delmona, who was very intrigued by my discovery and gave me the green light for my request to have the area excavated, with the tablets being brought to Gressenheller for research immediately.

It was when as I was looking at the familiar characters that I’d decided to copy into my journal that I was, quite literally, given the answer. Most of these tablets were things like alchemical recipes and if you could be made by any aspiring Alchemist, but most can only be made by a Gramarye with “Eagle Eyes”. Some even have illustrations, including of a few Gramarye descendants, which one of my specialized artists was able to translate into a modern-day portrait, which I’ve scanned and included with this email. The most curious thing of all was that even though my findings of the Scriptures are at least centuries old, there appeared to be a prophecy attached to some of the names that I encountered, which I was later able to translate into modern-day French:

• “Magnifi le Morts et Disparu.”
• “Zak d’Abandon Volontaire.'”
• “Valant le Menteur.'”
• “Thalassa le Fou.”
• En fin, “Prenez soin d’eux, Phoenix, mon garçon.”

This translates into:

• “Magnifi the Dead and Gone.”
• “Zak of Willful Abandonment.”
• ” Valant the Liar.”
• “Thalassa the Fool.”
• Finally, at the bottom: “Take care of them, Phoenix my boy.”

It was almost as though I was destined to discover this scribing! I’m hoping these will make some sense to you, although you may find a particular interest in the young woman with the caramel, braided hair of Gramarye ancestry in this commission portrait. Her name was Hera, and she was married to Zeus Gramarye. Pay close attention to the thick bangle on her wrist, which based on the photos I have seen of the young Mr. Justice, seem too peculiarly similar to be a mere coincidence?

I love the thrill of a good solution! As you know, I rather enjoy arriving at a well-earned elucidation, so please do let me know, dear friend if any other puzzles need solving!

Now that I have had the time to copy my findings and get everything translated for you, I am sending you everything I have unearthed. I hope it arrives in time for Trucy’s birthday.

Please keep in touch, Mr. Wright. I wish you nothing but the best, and I do hope my discoveries bear some of the answers you have been seeking. 

Best wishes, 
Hershel Layton

Phoenix Wright’s Journal
July 14, 2025

A parcel from England arrived today for my daughter’s 15th birthday, just as the good Professor had promised. Within its contents was a book entitled “The Big Book of Gramarye Family Alchemy Recipes” along with a handwritten birthday card.

So it appears my Baby Girl is descended from legit Alchemists… Who knew? How do you even bring that up in a conversation? Anyway, Hershel was able to translate the tablets he found, obviously, and one of them described the creation of some kind of ring or bracelet. It said that this band or whatever was designed to help an ‘heir or heiress of the Eagle’s Eye’ to ‘focus their sight’ or something. Not quite sure about anything more specific the Professor said a lot of the centuries-old scripture was too damaged to get anything else out of it. Regardless, this was exactly what I’m looking for and Sir Top Hat was even kind enough to send a photo of the tablet that was translated into a portrait, so at least I know what it looks like now.

I was struck speechless when Trucy laid eyes on the commissioned image of her ancestor, Hera Gramarye. The very first words that popped out of her mouth?

“Oh my gosh, Daddy! She looks exactly like my mommy did! Mommy even had a bracelet just like the ones Hera is wearing in the portrait!”

A bracelet Trucy said. As in plural; as in there were once two that Hera had in possession which had been passed onto the next of kin. It’s that bracelet! The same one that’s been plaguing my dreams and subconscious since I first set eyes on Apollo Justice!

I can’t believe that I didn’t put two and two together before! I know Trucy has the gift of perception; the ability to know when somebody’s being dishonest or hiding something, and that it comes from the Gramarye bloodline. The fact that this bracelet stems from her ancestral family and that brilliant young man whom I stumbled upon, also seemed to possess this otherworldly perceptive power, witnessed firsthand during his college courtroom trials … I just know that Apollo bearing that exact same bracelet is no mere coincidence!

According to the research, not one but two Gramarye family bracelets had once existed, so the question of course is, where is the other one? If I can solve that riddle, along with what really happened to Trucy’s mother in that stage accident, the rest of the pieces will fall into place. I know that when Helios died, Thalassa went back to her old Troupe without one of her family bracelets or this kid, if it exists. My question is, where did they go? More information is needed before I can come to any conclusions, but I suspect that if this possible older sibling of Trucy’s is actually out there, then they most likely have the bracelet with them. I just need to find this kid and maybe, just maybe, I can give Trucy a little bit of her blood family back to her. Here’s hoping…

Phoenix Wright’s Journal
April 15, 2026

So it seems the Thalassa’s abandoned son is named Apollo Justice. Obviously, there’s a naming trend going on here… Hera and Zeus, Thalassa and Helios, and Trucy’s middle name is Hecate, named after the Greek goddess of magic. My suspicions have been confirmed. Unfortunately, now that I am all but certain of his identity and his inherited perception powers, which would be similar to my own daughter’s, but which I am nearly positive he is unaware of, I write this entry in the most dismal of spirits which have nothing to do with my previous depression.

Kristoph Gavin’s promising young defense attorney is none other than Trucy’s long-lost half-brother! It is just my rotten luck! Curse that periwinkle piss-head who not only cost me the love of my life, along with my badge but got his hooks into the boy before I could put all the pieces together!

I can only imagine what that German madman is capable of, so there’s no way I can make contact with his protégé now! With that four-eyed slime-ball working in such proximity to Apollo, I cannot risk making my identity known to the kid before it’s time, for I know if I even breathe wrong, Kristoph will undoubtedly threaten Apollo’s very existence! I’ll just have to stay away from the young man for the time being, for everybody’s sake, much to my chagrin!

I am fascinated by this young man.  Fate seems very determined to make me like young Mr. Justice! He truly is indeed a Clarion of Revelations, possessing not only a keen capability to shatter glass with those pipes of his, but also shares the same ideals and values as Mia and I!

I am certain this was the message Magnifi was trying to convey to me in that dream last year, so I’m confident that my path is sure to cross with Apollo’s at some point in the near future. The question is when…?

Shadi Smith
Underground Poker Circuit
April 16, 2026, 2:05 AM

Shadi Smith, unfortunately, could not claim he was an undefeated player. His mentor had beaten him when he had first met the man, which had ignited the spark that Shadi had for the game. Since then, he’d lost many times but was somehow secretly compelled to only fully entrust those who could defeat him at a game of poker. If someone lost and didn’t put their full heart into it, then Shadi wanted nothing to do with that person. It was brutal but true. It was how he rolled.

When he heard the rumors of a 7-year undefeated poker player, he was incensed – and intrigued. Such a thing could not be possible! Inconceivable!

Things happen for a reason, he thought to himself. This fabled poker legend is said to be somewhere in the Los Angeles area, and as luck would have it, fortune has smiled upon me, since I need to be headed to that area for completely unrelated matters anyway!

But first things first, since he was keeping an ear to the ground while remaining hidden underground, there was nothing wrong with indulging in his greatest passion, at his favorite old seedy locale, even if the location itself left much to be desired.

It was a well-worn, inglorious tavern, often serving a cheap, simple selection of drinks to a regular clientele. You didn’t come here for the drinks, you come here to eliminate sobriety. All of the regulars there had a smoker’s voice and a hard look to them. If you went in there dressed nicely, you would get stared at and singled out, and it was a good idea to wear shoes that you wouldn’t mind squashing some roaches in.

The bar curved into the dark, barely lit room. Through the windows, the diamonds of lead panes trickled the sallow light of street lamps. The smell had changed over the years since the last time he had been there. Once it was of cigarette smoke only, the perfume that clung to clothing, skin, and furniture alike. Now it was stale beer and body odor. Some establishments were more like restaurants now – all clean with serving staff. Not here. Not at The Broken Stool. It was always a den of debauchery, alcoholism, and the great unwashed of the town. It still was. Nobody went there with anything wholesome in mind. Regardless, the obscure watering hole was the perfect place for an underground poker tournament, where nobody knew your name or gave a damn to learn it. For the only thing that mattered were the chips and the thrill of chance.

The poker dealer was a cute blonde woman wearing a red bandanna, decorated with white dice, which sat atop her shoulder-length curls. Her brown eyes bore entirely too much eye makeup and while the cloying scent of her cheap perfume was an assault on his nostrils, the fragrance was still a welcome one that helped mask the various unpleasant odorous ones of the poker-playing patrons around her. Zak sidled up to the card table and admired the way her petite but shapely form was showcased in her white dress blouse, unbuttoned just enough to show a tantalizing glimpse of cleavage, and fitted black dress pants and vest showed off her feminine curves.

She smirked at the muscular, snowy-suited man with the matching Deadman Top Hat.

“Texas Hold ‘Em,” she told him coolly, expertly dealing the cards to the players seated in front of her with lightning precision. “Are you in or out, Sport? If so, ante up now, else you can just spend the last few minutes of the final game of the night staring at me if you prefer. No skin off my back.”

“I am merely observing.” Shadi shook his head. “I play for the thrill of victory, not for money.”

“I call, Olga,” the soggy hog in the stained wife-beater on Shadi’s left declared as he slapped his meaty hand down on his hand of cards.

“Then you’re in the wrong neck of the woods, Buster!” She chuckled ruthlessly, showing off her winning hand to the fellow players at that moment, making three out of the four questionable-looking characters groan in their seats while one of them cackled with glee as he grabbed his winning chips. “This ain’t the place for chumps that have neither gumption nor money burning a hole in their pocket.”

“Is that so?” Shadi’s heavy brows knitted together in irritation. “I seem to remember back in the day that this was the place to go to for a heated, but friendly poker game. I take it such is not the case anymore?”

“Where in the world have you been hiding the past 7 years?” She snapped her gum loudly. “This here stopped being a friendly poker place ages ago and the stakes are high, so you either go big or go home! If you want to play the ol’ glory game, you’d be best testing your skills against the undefeated poker champion on the other side of town. Although it’s a good thing you wouldn’t be betting money against the Baron of Bluffing. You’d lose your shirt and your pants.”

Undefeated poker champion? Glory poker? Shadi’s ears perked right up as he at last on the information he’d been searching for.

“The Baron of Bluffing, you say? That’s quite the nickname,” he remarked casually, affixing his most charming smile. “I am most intrigued, Miss. But seeing as how you said this was the last game of the night, can I perhaps interest you in a drink, at another location more suited to such a lovely lady as yourself, where you can fill me in about this undefeated poker champion you speak of?”

“Sorry, Sport.” She sniffed contemptuously as she began sweeping up the cards and chips and stacking them neatly on the table. “I never mix business with pleasure, plus am working a double shift at my daytime gig tomorrow. If you want to know more about the poker tournaments at The Borscht Bowl, just give them a call sometime tomorrow. I’m closing shop right about now. Catch ya later.” With the blink of an eye, she was gone, leaving a heavy trail of toxic perfume and her wake.

Shadi was undaunted, however. He had gotten the information he was looking for. Sure, he was in town on important business, but he had never claimed that he was the type to not mix business with pleasure, after all!

Quite the contrary! What is it they say about killing two birds with one stone…?

Olga Orly
The Borscht Bowl Club
April 16, 2026, 12:30 PM

“I not knowink why Boris makink us be open for lunchtime,” Olga griped at Tyler, who was hauling a crate of wine bottles up the stairs into the bar. “Lookit! Here is deader than Macarena! This place no havink customers until night! Why we here? To decorate room?”

“You always complain about the same thing every time you have to work a double,” the bartender shot back with a grin. “At least you’ll be here for the evening rush tonight. And it’s only for the rest of this week while Tiffany is visiting her parents back in Alabama.”

“This suckink harder than Hoover!” Olga sulked. “Nobody here to try my borscht until nighttime. Not even be fresh then.”

“What’s the difference?” Tyler shrugged good-naturedly. “It’s served cold anyway!” Just then the telephone at the bar rang, and he sighed. “Hey, Olga, could you get that for me, please? My hands are full, and I still need to unload that truck in the back.”

“Da. Why not?” She muttered. “At least I havink somethink to do!”

The blonde lifted the receiver to her ear, faux Russian accent in place.

“Dobryj dyen, this is Borscht Bowl,” she answered grumpily. “Olga speaking. How may I servink you?”

“This is a remarkable coincidence,” a deep voice on the other line drawled. “Olga also just happened to be the name of this most fetching card dealer I encountered last night. It greatly pained my heart when she refused to have a drink with me after the poker game though. However, she did kindly let me know that this was definitely the place to call if I wanted to test my wits against your Baron of Bluffing.”

Olga gulped, and vowed to herself to never again consume so many shots of vodka during a late-night card dealing shift ever again, as it had loosened her tongue dangerously! She knew all of the regulars by sight, if not by name, at The Broken Stool, and to her great chagrin, the overly chatty stranger she had encountered the night before had thrown off her groove and made her lower her guard, long enough to reveal pertinent personal information she always kept concealed.

She normally did her best to keep her double agent day and nightlife a secret from Boris and Natasha, who undoubtedly would not have appreciated her poker moonlighting. The Russian owners thought Olga was nothing more than a meek daytime waitress who could do a convincing Moscow brogue. The same rule applied to her nighttime poker customers – they didn’t know where to find her during the day, and none of her dining clients at the restaurant knew the dive of ill repute where she was a card shark dealer at night. And yet thanks to her accursed big mouth, she had been found out about her dual life! This could not be good!

“Who is this?” She demanded, momentarily forgetting to put on her phony Slavic inflection.

“Olga, what happened to that charming accent you answered the phone with?” The man chuckled. “If I didn’t know better, I would think you could turn it off and on at will!”

“What you want, you no-goodnik?” She hissed, unconsciously slipping back into her Russian waitress dialect.

“Relax, lady, I have no desire to blow your double agent cover,” the male voice assured her. “I am simply following your advice and calling to inquire about when your next poker tournament is.”

Olga smiled with relief. Good! She could get rid of him after all!

“Sorry, no more poker tournaments this week,” she informed him smugly. “Trying coming next Thursday.”

“I’m afraid that won’t do.” A man’s voice hardened. “I am only in town until tonight. Surely an exception can be made if I wish to play against your Baron of Bluffing poker champion later tonight?”

“The Baron is not here, and I no can speakink for him until he comes,” Olga explained with forced patience. “He coming in at 6 o’clock to play piano, but if he no playing poker game tonight, he playing right until 2 in the morning.”

“Surely I can make it worth his while to let him play me for a quick match during his break, perchance?” The man refused to be swayed. “Money is no obstacle.”

“Why you not listening, Mister!” Frustration began to creep into Olga’s voice. “Phoenix can no be playing with you in Hydeout because there being no dealer workink here tonight!”

“Phoenix, you said his name was? I see…”  The man’s tone sounded startled for a moment but then altered abruptly. “But I still don’t see the problem, Olga, my dear.”

His tone was positively silky now.

“Because a dealer is working there this evening. After all, last night, you did indicate that you’re working a double shift. Therefore…there’s still you.”

Olga’s heart began thumping wildly.

“You no understanding!” She hissed into the phone, casting an anxious glance around her to see if Tyler was within earshot. “Here I am only waitress!”

“A waitress that doesn’t make enough money at her day job if she needs to moonlight as a nighttime poker dealer.” The man’s cadence was positively coy now. “I can certainly sympathize with such a plight, and I promise if you give me your full cooperation, I will not only give you my guaranteed silence about your alter ego but enough Ruble to make it worth your while.”

Olga was intrigued now, but still skeptical.

“Perhaps we can be talkink some business,” she began doubtfully. “I have a break in between shifts at 5:00 and I can meeting you somewhere. Except very important for you to know … Nobody is knowink that I am dealer here at this place!”

“That’s even better,” the man’s friendly tone took on a slightly hardened edge then. “Perfect, actually. It means that no one will ever suspect a thing.”

K-OS – The Man I Used to Be