182 It Had To Be You

A/N: Either the Wolf Man isn’t that beloved of an AA character, or y’all really love Edgey, since my readers all seemed to get a collective kick out of the normally mild-mannered prosecutie making Lang go airborne! Ariastella – your plans for Nick and Labyrinthia are in effect! Thanks for the great suggestions!

The fur continues to fly in this lengthier read chapter – enjoy!

It had to be you, it had to be you
I wandered around and finally found, that somebody who
Could make me be true
Could make me feel blue
And even be glad just to be sad, thinking of you

Some others I’ve seen
Might never be mean
Might never be cross, or try to be boss
But they wouldn’t do

For nobody else gave me a thrill
With all your faults, I love you still
It had to be you, wonderful you

Phoenix Wright and Zacharias Barnham
The Savoy Hotel, London
July 21, 2026

“As you British like to say, have you gone barmy?!” Phoenix demanded for the umpteenth time as he and his companion exited the posh hotel lobby, all the while remaining clamped in Zacharias Barnham’s unrelenting clasp. “And can you relax the iron grip already, mate? I feel like I’m being shanghaied!”

“No time to dilly-dally! Time is of the essence, Sir Blue Knight!”

As they approached a shiny red Aston Martin, which was parked out in front of The Savoy, the red-haired man mercifully released his death grip on the American, blithely ignoring the scowl he received as the supposedly shanghaied rubbed his forearm dramatically, as though he’d been grievously wounded during the gruffly escorted traipse down from Edgeworth’s suite!

“For the record, if I have indeed lost the plot, it’s indubitably the effect of the former High Inquisitor Darklaw finally rubbing off on me!” The barrister fished into his denim pocket for his key fob to unlock the doors and flashed a wry grin.  “That woman may be fair of face, but she’s as mad as a hatter!”

As he then motioned for his friend to get in, a glimmer of amusement flickered across the Brit’s mein as the sheepish hobo belatedly remembered he was in a country where they drove on the “wrong side” of the road, which meant the driver’s seat was also on the opposite side to which he was accustomed!

“Is that your way of trying to take over the wheel?” He derided as the blushing pianist awkwardly shuffled to the passenger door and climbed in. “I’m easy if that’s the case, although naturally, I shall need to see your universal driver’s license prior to handing over the reins to my precious Bella!”

“Give a poor Yankee guy a break!” Phoenix retorted sullenly. “While I may have muddled my way through figuring out operations of an automatic vehicle back home, I haven’t a clue how to drive a stick shift. Incidentally, despite knowing how to drive, I’m not licensed to lawfully drive in the States, any more than I’m allowed to legally practice law there anymore – never mind here in Europe!”

The spiky-haired man affixed the prosecutor with one of his most imploring expressions.

“All things considered; can you truly not grasp why I think you’ve officially flipped your wheels for even suggesting that I could be of any legal assistance in whatever mess has happened back in Labyrinthia? Hang on! You seriously named your car … Bella?! What the heck, are you a Twilight fan or something?”

“I certainly understand why you think I’ve lost the plot, good man. After all, being a lawyer does entail hearing both sides of the argument. Rest assured, I have heard your repeated questioning of my mental state regarding this matter, loud and clear!”

Barnham conspicuously ignored the query about the car moniker and shot him a sideways smirk.

“And you have another good half hour until we get to the marina to further inquire about whether or not I’ve lost my marbles for seeking your aid in helping this Yankee damsel in distress. Poor lass is undoubtedly quaking at Her Majesty’s Pleasure inside that frightful, dank holding cell – the one you might better remember as Deathknell Dungeon!”

“How could I forget – Jesus on toast!” The card shark yelped in fright and tightly gripped the dashboard as the tires squealed on the pavement, due to the alarmingly accelerated speed of the lead-foot driver. “Don’t you folks at least pretend to stop at red lights here in the UK?”

“The light was amber, Sir Backseat Driver, so focus on garnering your dab hand in lawyering and leave the driving to me!” A note of exasperation crept into the Englishman’s normally cordial cadence. “As I indicated, it’s thirty minutes to the landing pier, where Bezella is docked.”

He chuckled at the American’s flummoxed expression.

“Bezella’s the name of my speedboat. She’s the same beauty that took you all back to the mainland from Labyrinthia last time. From the harbor, it’s another half-hour trip to the village, or else it’s 90 minutes by ferry, which only runs twice an hour. We need to get there, post-haste, as these are most dire circumstances, and we’re already short one international legal genius, as it were!”

Barnham blew upward at his unruly locks in frustration and shooed away Phoenix’s protests that, unlike the chess enthusiast, he had never been privy to having international legal status in the first place!

“I still cannot believe I missed Mr. Edgeworth by mere minutes! Hard cheese indeed! How does a man simply leg it at the drop of a hat, without even taking a bag? Or even pausing to grab his passport?”

“Kilometers Edgeworth’s motto has always been: be prepared. He carries all his relevant papers on his person, stashed away in the jacket of his pink suit – that he insists is magenta! – which he essentially lives in unless the occasion specifically calls for otherwise! He even wore it to our buddy’s wedding last month. Although to be fair, that was because he loaned me his alternate suit for the night and  you already know was for a greater cause!”

The beanie wearer chortled at the memory.

“Plus, we both thought we’d be changing into customized polo wardrobe this morning, as that was the supposed game plan with the Professor – until he decided to ditch us and have you arrive instead!”

“Objection! Ultimately, I cannot be held accountable for your sudden cancellation of plans with Sir Layton!” Barnham corrected cheerily. “Because when I rang the good Professor to ascertain you and Mr. Edgeworth’s whereabouts, the poor man was already being shamelessly needled by the mercenary Flora to visit Hyde Park with her today!”

“You’re kidding!”

“Nay, I jest you not! Even in the background, as clear as a bell, I could hear the little chit whinging how they didn’t get enough Daddy/Daughter bonding time whenever she was not in boarding school. The Professor forfeited like a jouster with a broken lance!”

The former knight’s tenor took on a teasing inflection.

“While Mr. Edgeworth is apparently never one to stray from his typical business attire, it appears  you have done quite the turnabout from the days of your trademarked cobalt gear, Sir Blue Knight!”

“Believe it or not, these casual garbs are actually a step up from my usual hobo apparel, consisting of joggers and sandals, which have been my Russian dive uniform for the past seven years.” Phoenix self-consciously adjusted his beanie and gestured at his jeans, sneakers, and T-shirt. “It’s yet another reason why my disbarred butt isn’t fit to be in any sort of courtroom, Mr. Barnham! I’ve ceased having the desire to needlessly play dress up and try to resemble the part any longer because as you know, I’m not a lawyer anymore! As I said before, I’m no more authorized to defend in an English court than I am to drive an English car!”

“Have you forgotten that you also technically weren’t allowed to practice law as an American legist, even back when you first defended Espella in Old Blighty? You needed to secure special permission first,” Barnham reminded him. “By the by, old chum, these are entirely different circumstances. The trial shan’t be held in an English court but in the former Witches’ Court. It’s the official courthouse of Labyrinthia, which is now its own burgh, ruled by the governing laws of Mayor Arthur Cantabella.”

“I – I honestly did like the townspeople in that little village.” The poker champ felt the stirrings of nostalgia forming within, although his cadence remained rife with hesitation. “I’d always meant to go back and visit Espella, her father, and the rest of those kind folks. It just … never seemed fated to happen.”

“I see….”

“Please, don’t look at me like that! Since I lost my badge, I’ve barely been able to afford bus tickets, never mind a plane ticket!”

Phoenix squirmed under his friend’s scrutinizing sideways glance.

“But then I was given this golden opportunity to go on this jurist research trip abroad, out of the blue! Yet despite knowing we were coming to England, I couldn’t be sure Labyrinthia would be part of the game plan, even after running into you and Knightle at the Old Bailey. That being said, while part of me will be glad to see everyone again, it still feels strange to be returning under these abysmal circumstances. Conditions promise to be no more pleasant now than they were back then. Moreover, once again, things are way beyond my control!”

“Not everything in life is going to be within your control, any more than everything that happens in life is supposed to become something beautiful and everlasting,” Barnham stated sagely, with what seemed to be a touch of wistfulness. “At times, individuals enter your life with the purpose of demonstrating what is right and wrong, revealing your potential, instructing you to value yourself, providing temporary comfort, or simply accompanying you during nocturnal strolls to confide in. It’s important to acknowledge that not all individuals will remain in your life permanently, and despite this, it’s crucial to chivvy along and express gratitude for the contributions they’ve made to our lives.”

He laughed dolefully then, as though realizing he’d veered too deeply into a soul-baring territory, and shook his head while adopting a lighter tone.

“Enough of me jabbering on like a sodding knob-head! In short, yes, life is never predictable, though I suppose such is par for the course; keeps things interesting. Or, at the very least, it keeps us on our toes.”

Barnham turned his head towards his passenger and cocked an auburn eyebrow in his direction.

“Do you honestly wish to know why I named my two methods of conveyance Bella and Bezella, Sir Blue Knight?”

“Um, sure. If you feel up to telling me, then go ahead.”

“They represent my life as I know it. Bella propels me forward to where I need to be, and Bezella is the means of taking me back to my antecedent period – to my old life, which I’m not fully ready to let go of just yet. That primeval village is my joyful retreat whenever I need to take a break from the hectic pace of London. This time though, I’ll have good company with me as I return to those days of yore.”

“I guess that settles it then.” Phoenix sighed and tipped his now throbbing skull back against the headrest. “You’re taking me back to that medieval town and forcing me to revisit my past, whether I like it or not!”

“Ergo, we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past.”

Franziska Von Karma
Radisson Blu Portman, London
July 21, 2026

Despite not even yet being in her third decade of existence, chaotic depredation was nothing new to Franziska.

However, crapehanger resignation notwithstanding, that sure as hell does not make events in my life any less devastating!

Trailing the trenchant departure of her distraught niece, shortly followed by that of her anguished sister, the distressed Franziska Von Karma had sunk heavily on the hotel room bed like a heavy sack of potatoes. She buried her head in her trembling hands, ravaged by the aftermath of what she’d just done.

The most difficult battle is the one within; when you find yourself at odds with yourself. This happens when your heart desires something, but your mind forbears it. You may want to shed tears, but instead, you lift your head high and force yourself to remain composed to avoid losing face. You may feel the urge to lash out, yet you choose to contain the explosion within so that those around you don’t experience its impact.

Within the span of a few seconds, and in her traditionally thoughtless “speak before thinking” manner, she’d single-handedly thrust tumultuous mayhem amongst herself and her kinswomen. One of such cataclysmic levels that it rivaled every excruciating moment of the former prosecutor’s existence; ones which she’d have killed to forget, including but not limited to the death of her beloved mother, getting shot by an assassin’s bullet, and losing the love of her life.

I’d give anything in the world to have possession of eine Zunge aus Honig, ein Herz aus Galle.

This was yet another glaring instance of how, despite the physical similarities amongst the three Von Karma females, the one trait she’d failed to inherit from the angelic Minna, although Katharina most definitively had, was the proverbial tongue of honey and a heart of gall.

Otherwise known as an iron fist in a velvet glove.

Except for this time, even though Franziska had been the one to deal the crushing verbal blow, she had also been left reeling from the sharp rebound. The ramifications of her unthinking actions had been painfully indicated by the unmasked enmity, betrayal, and disappointment she’d seen in her revered sibling’s eyes, right before she’d stormed out in hot pursuit of her daughter, leaving her forlorn younger sister in her wake.

The magnitude of her heartbreak was because, in spite of their wide age gap, the sisters had always been implausibly close. Katharina had always been the one constant source of unconditional love and comfort in her life other than her sainted mother. Therefore, the excruciating knowledge that she’d shattered the very person whom she’d respected and adored for her entire life was more agonizing than any physical pain the Wild Mare had ever known.

I should have apologized to Schwester instead of trying to justify my actions to her. I’m such a foolish fool! This is real life, not the courtroom. As such, these types of battles of this nature are untenable, for even if you emerge as the winner, you have ended up hurting the person you love, which always involves some degree of loss nevertheless.

The German woman felt a prickling sensation forming behind her eyelids at the sobering notion she may have gone too far.

Mein Gott, I could not live if such a situation occurred. I could not bear to lose my only sister. Not when I have already lost so much!

Her chest constricted at the prospect her recent brashness had been so irremediable that not even the normally benign Katharina could possibly forgive her this time.

Liebe Schwester, among the multitude of reasons why I cherish you, the most significant one is that you have consistently provided me with a sense of security. Although the idea of feeling safe with someone is often expressed in a clichéd and imprecise manner, I have forever experienced this feeling with you. I am still unsure of its exact definition, but I assure you that it is the truth.

Her vision became a watery blur.

I’m confident that Katharina possessed knowledge beyond what she revealed to me. However, unlike Papa, she never attempted to diminish my emotions by saying belittling things like: “I told you so.” Because she was one step removed, she had a clearer view of me as a third-party observer rather than a dependent who created problems. She always comprehended the significance of situations, the harmful impact of hurtful comments, and the capacity for even minor slights to inflict more damage than I let on. She offered a listening ear and enveloped me with her love through her kind words and gentle countenance. Apart from Mama, she was my biggest supporter, my guardian angel, and my hero. If I can become half the woman she is, I will be immensely proud. Everyone should be so blessed to have a Schwester like mine; someone who is an infinite repository of love and good vibes, coupled with a lifetime of experience. I don’t know what I will ever do if she takes that love away from me.

And then there was Anneliese, the wild, untamed, headstrong stripling, who’d inherited her mother’s beauty but her doughty Tante Franziska’s unrestrained, voluble tongue! Perhaps that was why the tempestuous little hoyden and her jade of an aunt would always butt heads. They were way too much alike.

Regardless of my intentions for correcting her solecism, I am still the adult and should have handled her better. I now see that with tensions running so high, I should have injected love instead of anger, giving her an olive branch instead of enmity. Nevertheless, sometimes it just is not that easy when trying to convey: Beiß nicht in die Hand, die dich füttert! Compassion was even harder to bestow when, instead of being contrite for biting the hand that feeds her, the damn impudent child got right in my face, making me barely resist the urge to give her a well-deserved taste of my whip!

She expelled a long, ignominious sigh. It seemed her entire life was doomed due to her tendency to a heuristic approach in realizing everything.

It did not matter whether I exercised corporal punishment or not, because when my niece ran off, she could not have been more hurting – not to mention lost! – than if I had physically struck her! What I ought to have done instead was take all the courage I had and not only used it to suppress my violent impulses but softened my speech. Held out my hand and said: “Anneliese, I love you. I love you now and I always will. I shall now walk away if you need time to cool down, but if you want to talk instead of shout, I am all ears.”

It was the truth. Even if she wasn’t always the best at showing it, or saw her as often as she’d have liked, the German woman couldn’t have loved that little firecracker any more than if her life had depended on it.

If I had approached it that way, even if the girl was still angry and looking for a fight, I would have made it clear I would not engage in any sort of mêlée, as fighting only causes harm and damage. Even if she had stormed out of the room, at least she would have still sensed if not heard the expressions of love from me. As her anger subsided, those words could have helped her feel better, calm down, and eventually, come back to me as the Anneliese I adore so much…

The loud knock at the door was unexpected and sharply jolted her out of her lambasting reverie. Wiping the stray tear from her eye, the turbulent Interpol Profiler reflexively grabbed her whip as she flung open the door, knowing full well it couldn’t be her sister or niece returning since they each had their own key cards.

Whoever is out there had best make this visit short and sweet! Franziska thought darkly. I am in no state of mind to deal with any sort of foolish fool or their tomfoolery!

Maya Fey and Franziska Von Karma
Radisson Blu Portman, London
July 21, 2026

Jutting her chin obstinately, the Kurain Master marched right up to Katharina’s hotel room door and timidly rapped on the varnished wood, affecting her best imitation of Natasha Slotsky from The Borscht Bowl Club.

“Hello, house-keepink?” The village leader emitted a high-pitched, parrot-like squawk, nearly identical to the Russian bar owner. “I bringink you fresh towels!”

“What is the meaning of this foolishness?” A female voice demanded peevishly as the door flung open… “We already have plenty of clean linens and towels…”

“I’m very happy to hear that you have everything you need to keep you in hotel luxury comfort, Franziska Von Karma!”

“Maya Fey?!” The former prosecutor’s palm flew to her chest. “Was in Gottes Namen are you doing here?!”

The spirit medium smiled sweetly at her old friend’s poleaxed expression, and pointedly stuck her foot right in the doorway, just in case the silver-haired woman got any bright ideas!

“You know what else you have? A whole lot of explaining to do, that’s what! And don’t even think about trying to get rid of me by using that whip of yours! I have zero qualms channeling Bruce Lee to subdue you if need be, so … Take That!”

Upon hearing the outrageous threat, the cornered party’s vision darted to the sneaker wedged obtrusively against her door, briefly contemplating if she had the required effrontery to answer the soundless, taunting dare it posed.

The psychic followed the downward scrutiny path and let out an incredulous gasp.

“You’d really slam this door in my face, Franziska?” Accusing sable orbs unflinchingly met ambivalent sterling ones. “Is this my definitive proof that I’ve been nothing but the proverbial fool you keep accusing everybody of being? Has it truly been for naught that I’ve kept these sappy memories of you in my heart, and persistently chased after you all this time? Because it’s becoming more and more obvious that you never gave a damn about me!”

The innate cynic within noted that Maya had never outgrown her jejune lack of guile, which meant she was entirely incapable of masking the plaintiveness in neither her intonation nor visage. On the other hand, finally witnessing the affliction she’d wreaked on someone so dear to her was nearly Franziska’s undoing, right then and there.

This poor girl sincerely believes she never meant anything to me. And who can blame her, after all her efforts of contacting me for over a year were rewarded with nothing but cold silence? Maya Fey, you eternally foolish fool! I’d give anything to have you understand this has nothing to do with you, and everything to do with me! While I will never be able to convey my thoughts and feelings with the enviable ease you possess, emotions are nevertheless a part of me. Moreover, in this relationship, they blend with yours in the most lecker of ways.

How Franziska wished she could convey this rebuttal bubbling up within her, which she knew the other woman so richly deserved to hear.

Yet there are times I have storms inside but I want you to know that it is never because of you, but due to the damage and triggers from my past. It is so important for me to recognize that my fear comes from a different time and place and dear girl, it has zero connection to you. I also remind myself that you truly adore me as much as I adore you. During these moments of storms, I need to find my calm center on my own, so that I will not need to rely on you to soothe me every time. I care for you too much to put that burden on you. That is the true reason why I have been working on myself, trying to learn, grow, and mature. I want to be the kind of friend that you deserve, capable of giving and receiving love freely and completely.

Unfortunately, a lifetime of being an emotional anorexic, coupled with spending this past year as a reclusive, emotional cripple, would not allow her to express any of this.

Instead, Franziska let out a habitual humph, then made a big display of begrudgingly stepping backward to allow the tiny brunette entrance, affecting her loftiest tone as she did so.

“Since I am presently alone at the moment, and you have journeyed from very far to be here, I suppose I could allow you a few minutes to say your piece, Maya Fey. But first and foremost, riddle me this: the last time we were together, you exemplified a newfound sophistication in both her hairstyle and ensemble. Is it being reconciled with that foolish fool of an ex-lawyer who has regressed you to now being a walking fashion faux pas? Such an unpardonable sin, especially in a city as posh as London!”

Feeling ill at ease, Maya glanced down at her capris and tank top, slightly stung by the criticism. Fine, so maybe her accouterments weren’t entirely on par with the latest runaway trend! Nonetheless, they were considered universally classic wear– at least according to Pearl’s teenage fashion magazines!

“What’s wrong with my outfit?” She retorted defensively. “Naturally, I can’t go sightseeing in designer sundresses and heels anymore, since both my itinerary and company have changed! Unlike my leisurely, gallivanting jaunt throughout Europe last year, this recent trip has included more breakneck-paced touring, while trying to keep up with four teenagers – one of whom is your niece! Therefore, I’ve had to make efforts to blend a mixture of Mommy-appropriate fashion and comfort!”

“I was not objecting to your garments, you fool! I was referring to your glaringly bright and equally
unflattering head-wear!”

“You mean this?” The spirit medium seemed mystified as she adjusted the pink Mama beanie Trucy had given her. “My hat?”

“Yes, this! You remind me of a college fraternity student – in drag!” The Frau scorned. “Why on earth are you adorning such a heinous accessory?”

“For the reason that my daughter made it for me!” Maternal pride was obvious in Maya’s declaration as she patted the yellow-lettered cap. “And I promised her I’d wear it proudly throughout Europe, which I most certainly will do, irrespective of anybody’s aversions to it!”

“I see.” An embarrassed blush heightened Franziska’s cheeks. “My apologies, then. I – I was not aware that crocheting was amongst Pearl’s myriad of talents.”

“Not Pearly – Trucy. My other little girl!” Maya amended with an ear-to-ear grin. “I know you haven’t seen Nick in a while – I presume you knew of our reconciliation due to my online singing stardom? – but our little magician made one for her Papa as well, in turquoise. As much as it makes him resemble a hobo, he gleefully rocks that beanie for the same reason I’m wearing mine! We both swore we’d be proud Mama and Papa hobo chic throughout this trip – together!”

“You Americans are such sentimental fools,” the other woman scoffed, turning her head away to hide the desideratum in her expression. “But promises are so important to children, are they not? You should be commended highly for keeping your word.”

“No praise required. It’s hardly a chore to wear constant, tangible proof of my youngest daughter’s love for me!” The diviner replied sunnily. “I’ll bet Pearly will be the next beanie recipient, and Trucy makes one that says Sis for her next birthday!”

“The last time we spoke of that man, I held you in my arms while you wept over him. However, it appears all is truly well for you and Phoenix once more, and you have since made a loving family unit with your girls. For that, I am honestly happy for you, my friend.” Franziska spoke with quiet sincerity. “There are few people more deserving of love and happiness than you.”

“Thank you. Know that I feel the same way about you.” Sensing she might be treading into dangerous territory; Maya chose her next words carefully. “However, given the fact that you’ve been out of touch with me, Ema, and even Adrian, who we chatted with at the department store, I can’t help but wonder if that’s not the case with you.”

“Whatever are you trying to imply, questioning my levels of contentment in such an impertinent manner?” Franziska bristled slightly as she walked towards the window, peering vacantly out at the bustling urban scene beneath her. “I will have you know that I am now at the height of my new career, which I love even more than I did prosecuting criminals! I not only resumed my duties very shortly after your visit but have even been promoted from data mining to becoming a bona fide Case Analyst and Profiler for Interpol!”

“Wow, a Profiler? Good for you! That sounds so neat – like something out of a criminal TV show!” The American’s eyes sparkled with genuine interest. “What’s that all about?”

“Without getting into classified specifics, my duties entail but are not limited to unraveling and deciphering details about flagitious types by gathering information from the crime scenes and analyzing everything I find.”

A hint of affection laced Franziska’s cadence with her next reveal.

“Moreover, while I refuse to admit this to him, as I do not wish to inflate the fool’s already oversized ego, I am also fortunate enough to be working alongside a great mentor. He is a man whom I not only revere deeply but was a legendary detective and crime-fighting mastermind for longer than you and I have been alive!”

“I never had any doubt that someone with your stellar capabilities and intellect would find her true calling in life sooner rather than later. It seems on paper, as far as professional life goes, that you have no cause for complaints.” The brunette came over to where her friend was standing and unflinchingly looked her right in the eye. “But I wasn’t trying to verify if you were happy with your vocational path, mein Freund. I meant you – in general. Are you truly happy at this point in your life overall?”

“How does one answer an inquiry like that, Maya Fey?” Franziska strode past the village leader and placed her palms against the window, staring out sightlessly at the city view below. “Happiness is such a subjective thing. I’ve seen how the wealthiest people in the world still can’t find happiness, yet for the poorest, just a simple meal and shelter for the night can bring a smile to their faces. Happiness is something that lifts the soul and takes us away from the mundane. But what is the true meaning of happiness? That is nearly impossible to define, nein?”

She shook her head and shrugged.

“Isn’t it true that everything in life is impermanent? Some things just happen to last longer than others. Every emotion fades away eventually, and every thought is replaced by a new one. But for me, that has never been a reason to lose hope. Imagine making a necklace of beads, like the one you are wearing right now. You would choose the prettiest ones to string together, and that’s how life is too. That is your time under the sun. Each moment is our time to shine. I have learned to find happiness in each fleeting moment so that they all come together to create something wonderful and unique. Such has been my life working for Interpol. I feel this is a role where I can truly excel and shine.”

Aragato, Fräulein -Roboto!

The long-winded, yet mechanical reply was such a non-answer that the Master could have screamed! She would cease to refer to Miles Edgeworth as a robot, ever again! At best, he was a cyborg. His former lover, however, was the original prototype for every single android that had ever been created into existence!

Glancing back over her shoulder, Franziska bit back a smile as Maya vainly tried to stifle the frustrated scowl, brought on by the elusive response, that’d begun creeping over her normally cheery phizog. The necromancer was normally such a delightfully halcyon sort that few who’d met her would wish for her to be anything but. To witness that beatific beam ever faltering was like viewing dark, gloomy clouds smothering the sun. The ex-DA was loath to ever be the person who would take that sunshine away, even briefly.

Even though she has experienced so much tragedy in her life, she has always been able to hold onto that remarkable inner joy that is completely separate from external circumstances, many of which have caused her unimaginable pain. When she smiles, it is as if the happiness is radiating from within, rather than just putting on a façade, in the manner that so many others do.

Within the past few minutes alone, the warmth of the necromancer’s mere presence in the same room seemed to brighten her otherwise benighted existence, and chipped away at the many layers of protective ice Franziska had formed around her heart. This effervescent woman represented all that was real, honest, and benevolent in this cold, cruel world. Part of it was that childlike innocence that had never truly wavered since her teenage years, despite being no stranger to life’s hardships herself. It was safe to let down one’s guard with Maya because she had known too much heartache and betrayal in her young life to ever inflict that on another human being.

The emotions of a young child hold more wisdom than any book in any library across the globe. We must hold onto and cherish their innocence and desire for the safety and well-being of others. Although children can be self-centered at times, they react in the way that we all should when they learn someone is hungry or in pain. This is precisely how Maya has always been – maintaining that childlike spark since birth and feeling deeply for others as though they were her own kin. With so much inner beauty, how could I not trust her? How could I not love someone with so much love inside of them?

“I am cognizant that you were not seeking decided reassurance about whether or not I am gratified as a pig in mud with my career path.” The Wild Mare decided it was high time to put the poor thing out of her misery – at least somewhat. “Therefore, I will allow you to ask me one query. In turn, thus promise that I will answer it honestly and directly.”

“No more skirting the issue and giving me canned philosophical responses?” The spirit medium asked skeptically, trying not to get her hopes up. “You really mean it?”

“I give you my word to be as copacetic as possible,” Franziska smirked and wiggled her forefinger. “I am not, however, guaranteeing you that this will open the floodgates for further questions. Whether or not I allow for that shall be contingent on the path your first query has taken, thence determining how willing I am to give further riposte.”

No pressure there at all! Maya thought nervously, wracking her brain for the best opener which wouldn’t close all communicative doors, permanently! I’ve been waiting forever for this opportunity, so I can’t afford to blow it! The roundabout path was obviously not the way to go, since I got only a generalized, and not at all personalized reply which got me nowhere at all. Yet I know if I lead the path with the pink elephant in the room inquiry, she’ll get all defensive and throw me out of here faster than I can channel either The Dragon actor or Mohammed Ali!

How much easier life would’ve been if the fiery femme was even marginally less guarded with her emotions, and at least to a somewhat readable level, like her near doppelgänger elder sibling! One lingering, probing glimpse into the psychologist’s face as she’d reflected upon her brief “dancing on a cloud” moment with Professor Layton had been all that was required for Maya to finally tune into her extrasensory skills and spring into action. Those tell-tell gray orbs had revealed more than they’d hoped to be concealed.

The eyes. They are the windows to the soul.

Although their personalities and facial expressions were all different, both Dr. Katharina Rudolf and Franziska Von Karma shared those identically spellbinding, cinereal eyes.

Except at that moment, as the diviner searched the other woman’s normally shuttered gaze, the German’s orbs, which reminded the Master of a cygnet on the nearby River Thames, and had ranged from shocked, to irritated, to defiant ever since she’d opened her door, now appeared acquiescent and doleful.

“Regardless of what you are seeking from me, you Nosey Nellie, this reunion of ours will not bear the same poignant, bittersweetness we both enjoyed from your last trip.” The former counselor sounded unspeakably tired, now wearing what could only be described as a resigned expression. “Much has changed since we last met, and this time, there are no platitudes you can utter that will fix things, or can even remotely come close to setting me on what you might believe is the veracious track in the pursuit of true happiness.”

“You may be right.” Maya fervently wished she could turn a blind eye away from the naked sorrow the Profiler could no longer hide – it was beyond gut-wrenching to see. “But as much as you remember embracing my weeping form the last time you saw me, I vividly recall also letting you weep in my arms for a very much-needed cry, as well. You were there for me at my darkest hour, so more than anything in the world, all I want now is to be there for you. Whether or not you want to admit it, you and I are not as dissimilar as you’d like to believe. We have a deep-rooted connection with each other that belies any logic or reason. We’re both Daughters of Destiny, and that’s a tie that binds us. One which will never go away, Franziska. And because of that, neither shall I, no matter how hard you try to push me away.”

A stifled whimper came from the other woman then, who was now clutching her sleeves and avoiding all eye contact, so the psychic placed a soothing hand on the German’s arm as she spoke again.

“You don’t have to confide in me anything you don’t feel comfortable with, and even if you do, I still may not know the right thing to say. But while I may not have all the answers, I want you to know that my arms are always open to give you a warm embrace, my ears are eager to hear anything you want to share, and most importantly, there’s my heart, which I will always wear on my sleeve whenever it comes to you. And it yearns to see you happy and smiling once again.”

“Please… do not make me regret giving you this green light, Maya.” Franziska’s voice was barely above a strained whisper as she clenched her lids shut. “Just go ahead and ask me whatever question you desire. I promise I will answer – because I know I can trust you enough to confide nothing but the truth.”

“Thank you for trusting me.” Maya took her friend’s shoulder, nudged her toward the edge of the bed, and then sat down beside her. “I can sense deep despair within you right now, which I am positive is not due to inflicted heart wounds from long ago, but something more recent that’s eating you up inside, which I think has something to do with your sister and niece. I, unfortunately, became privy to this only because I was coming down the hall when I overheard loud snippets of the tzimmes in the room. The next thing I knew, they both tore out of here, looking as heartbroken as you do right now. What on earth happened?”

“I destroyed the only family I have left with my typical, execrable malfeasance. That is what happened,” Franziska replied dully, opening her eyes so her fellow Daughter of Destiny could see the unshrouded shame and self-loathing within them. “The foible is all mine. It has always been difficult for me to contain the endless thoughts racing through my mind, and sometimes they slip out through my unfiltered mouth. Consequently, the devastation caused by my unguarded words is now my cross to bear…”

Phoenix Wright and Athena Cykes
Deathknell Dungeon, Labyrinthia
July 21, 2026

This fortress of stone and debris was built on the bloody and bony remains of the dead, the souls who were once trapped here. If these walls could talk, you would surely wish to be deaf. I feel the same. Even though I can’t hear the stories of the endless nights of doom and the murmurs of the past horrors, of the dreadful stories of spirits who died tragically or endured unspeakable deaths too cruel to imagine, they are hidden in these dungeons and reverberate around the twisted stone stairs. So much to tell and no ears ready to listen, no eyes capable of seeing the scenes of sadness or souls willing to sense the pained cries that dwell within.

The cold damp air wrapped around him like a heavy coat of chain mail as he descended the tight spiral staircase to the dungeons, the thick wooden doors ominously slamming shut behind him as he made his way down the unlit, jagged cobblestone steps. In the absence of light, the dimness gave the impression of twilight despite the heat and brilliance of the late July morning outside.

It’s more than spooky and beyond eerie!

Phoenix had sincerely hoped to never again see this barbaric gaol for the rest of his days. It was part of Labyrinthia’s “bucolic nostalgic tour” he’d have gladly done without! It was authentic to the period it was intended, and every bit as horrendous as he recalled! Worst of all, he was all too glaringly reminded of the nightmarish times poor Espella had been confined there, shaky, weeping, and frightened half out of her mind that she was to be sent to the fiery pits of hell for witchcraft crimes she’d never committed.

Damp, fusty, and chilly, Deathknell Dungeon made the jails in LA, with their steel and concrete monoliths around it, seem like swank hotels by comparison! The oubliette was made of stones only; the once smooth rock was now rough and worn, creating shadows from walls thicker than his arms. He could sense the horripilation on his bare forearms from the cold, musty air that moved within. It was a clear sign that in this nightmare, the moist staleness was not from the air outside that could barely drift in from the high, small hall windows. The slots were just thin openings, with thick metal bars, but no glass.

Save for the dim lighting of the two torches flanked on each side of the passageways leading towards the cell, it was so dark he could barely see his footing. So, with great caution, the pianist slowly ventured towards the cage that harbored the accused, unsure of what to expect.

He spotted the cell before the inmate, and even though he’d been there in the past, the place still gave him the chills.

I so don’t want to be here! I’d rather have my blood sucked out by leeches while having an ice pick shoved under a toenail or two than have to do this! But that jerk Barnham didn’t give me much of a choice, and before throwing me down here, made it adamantly clear what he thought of me and my final say on the matter!

The recollection of his friend’s angry, disapproving words still made him cringe.

“Seeing as how you have no plans to cease being such a stubborn, buggerin’ tosspot with your refusal to defend due to your lack of badge, nor will you stop jabbering about this blinkered, tosh notion that you’re too out of practice to help this poor lass from your own motherland, then I bite my thumb at you, sir! Go on then, you bleedin’ git! However, you shall jolly well still have to endure the task of staring that young lady dead in the eye and informing her that she’s right snookered! Ergo, good day to you… Mr. Wright!“

Ergo, it was with both great trepidation and a heavy heart that the recently demoted ex-Sir Blue Knight approached the prison cell.

The place was just as he remembered, and was thoroughly disorientating by design. The dank area was hardly six feet by four, an empty cube of thick grey stone, like the houses of the area, with only one entrance, and no windows. In the summer the cooler air from the halls would be a comfort, helping to ease the moldy smell, but in the cold seasons, it’d bring in a nasty breeze and lower the temperature to almost freezing. It was no lighter inside than the dimming light of evening, even on a bright and sunny morning. The bed was a board of wood on legs, there was no mattress, no padding, and only one thin blanket. It was stiflingly silent. In there, you could have no clue how much time had gone by or even if it was night or day. After enough time, a person could lose their own name in these limits. The isolation was complete and the stimulation was none. No sound, no light, no furniture or fabric of any kind. It was all an inmate could do to touch the cold walls, but even they would be jagged and rough to the feel.

As his eyes grew adjusted to the dimness surrounding him, he heard the voice before he saw the owner, although it was so soft, he had to lean forward and press his hands against the cell bars to hear it.

“Another spectator coming to get their amusement by gawking at the dodgy foreign murderess and her weird robotic toy?” A girl’s voice sighed lamentingly. “I guess I can’t blame them, what with this being a medieval town and there are no longer public executions to be a major source of entertainment. Nonetheless, it sucks having to play the part of the dancing bear for villager merriment.”

“Sweet scuppering salamanders, no!” Phoenix was aghast, both by the charge, as well as how adolescent the girl sounded! When Barnham had said the accused was a young lady, he’d been expecting someone closer to his girlfriend’s age, not his daughters’! “Perish the thought! I’m not here for –”

She rose from the cot where she’d been curled up into a ball and stormed up to the jail bars.

“Listen, I’m really not in the mood to make Widget talk for the sake of sadistic resident gratification, so sod off!” The girl clenched her fists and gritted her teeth, her petite frame trembling with helpless rage. “Just bugger off and let a bleedin’ Yank rot here in peace!”

“I’m not one of the townsfolk!”

“Of course, you are! These slack-jawed heathens have all come in by the droves just to whisper and point like I’m their personalized, live TV show! I must’ve seen a dozen people already, and I’ve only been here since last night!”

“Miss, I swear I’m not who you think I am!” The poker champ protested, wishing she would stop interrupting him. “I’m afraid you’re sorely mistaken …”

“Argh! This entire thing is a mistake, but nobody will listen to me!” Abruptly she shifted gears, scrunching her eyes shut and switching from the face of a rage monkey to a dramatically crumpled one that seemed prepped to ugly cry at any moment. “Can you even imagine what that feels like?!”

“If you would just let me speak…”

“Why can’t Mayor Cantabella get sorted some funds to get this bloody place a bowling alley? Or at least bring back spectator jousting tournaments?!”

“Hold it!”

His loud courtroom shout reverberated within the small space, effectively silencing the girl at last, and resulting in her eyes growing large with astonishment as she clapped a fingerless-gloved hand to her mouth. Taking advantage of her temporary muteness, Phoenix yanked off his hat and held his phone as a flashlight up against his face so that he could finally get a good look at the accused while allowing her to make out the veracity on his countenance.

“Miss, if you’d just stop talking for a split second and would allow me to get a word in edgewise, you’d be able to tell I’m no local yokel! I’m from the United States, just like you!”

She cocked her head to the side, like a dog absorbing his master’s orders, while staring dumbly at him, yet thankfully, remained silent. They were actually making progress.

“My name is Phoenix Wright and I’m visiting from Los Angeles. I’m a friend of some residents in Labyrinthia, who told me a fellow American had been arrested for murder, so they sent me to come to talk to you.”

“For what purpose? Wait – are you going to be my lawyer?”

Clasping her hands together and raising them against her shoulder, her visage lit up under the glow of the mobile screen, allowing Phoenix to get his first good peek at the American who’d had gotten herself into so much trouble.

A cursory gander showed him a sweetly pretty, fresh-faced teenager, no older than 16 or 17. She was dressed in a traditional schoolgirl outfit, blue kilt, tights, a short-sleeved white shirt with blue piping, and a yellow tie. He couldn’t make out the color of her hair in the dark lighting, but it was tied in a single-side ponytail, which cascaded well past her waist, probably nearly as long as Maya’s in length.

“Gracias a Dios and God Save the Queen! That means I have a real shot of getting out of here!” She prattled happily. “The townsfolk have all been murmuring how anybody would be a better defense than that skinny, shaky blond man, what was his name? Flighty? He couldn’t defend his way out of a wet paper bag!”

“We’re saved!” Crowed a small robotic voice, which appeared to be coming from the large smiley-faced pendant worn around the teen’s neck, and was now glowing green in color. “He’s got the Wright stuff!”

The former attorney swallowed hard. He couldn’t blame her – and he presumed the ‘weird robotic toy’ was the aforementioned Widget – for the natural assumption about his reason for being there. However, this presumption would only make relaying the ugly truth even harder!

“Um, no, not exactly.” He awkwardly scratched the back of his neck. “You see, Mr. Barnham, the former town prosecutor, really wanted me to be your defense counsel. So, ah … he sort of roped me into coming here, as I’ve been a defense attorney here in Labyrinthia in the past. Unfortunately, he seems to have the same wee little problem that you do with letting people explain themselves, heh, heh…”

The glimmer of hope that’d briefly flickered in the girl’s eyes immediately died and her chin began to tremble. Phoenix could’ve kicked himself for even attempting to joke at a time like this.

“Sorry! I mean, I get why you’d be completely overwhelmed and everything at a time like this! It’s just that like I relayed to Mr. Barnham – repeatedly! – there’s a variety of reasons why it would be impossible for me to defend you in court, Miss … ah …”

“Cykes,” she replied numbly, clutching her arm and staring down at the ground. “Athena Cykes. I guess this means you’re not going to help me, are you, Mr. Wright?”

“You suck!” Widget bleeped, now flashing red and bearing a frowning emoji. “Wright is wrong!”

“Widget!” Athena gasped in horror, clapping her hands over the flashing pendant. “I – I’m so sorry, Mr. Wright! I’ve gotten better at controlling him over the years, but sometimes he’s a bit too in sync with my inner thoughts and has no filter, so he tends to blurt out whatever I’m thinking!”

“And what you think is: I suck!” Phoenix lamented miserably. “Not that I blame you for that.”

“Good! And you look like Sonic the Hedgehog, too!” Widget added in a muffled voice, still flashing brightly behind the mortified Athena’s fingers.

“Alright, Widget! Enough already! I get it!” He groaned and dragged a hand down his face. “Miss Cykes, please…”

“Athena,” she mumbled, her gaze still directed at the stone tiles. “We’re not going to be lawyer and client, so there’s no need for excessive formality, right?”

“Please don’t hate me!” He begged, his eyes pleading with her to understand. “I wish to God I could make you believe that this is breaking my heart! Especially now that I’ve met you, knowing you’re a fellow American, with all my gut instincts shouting at me that you’re innocent! This is why I needed to see you. To tell you that I wish all the best of luck, but I can’t help you, much as I want to…”

“Leave me be.” She lifted her gaze to meet his, and he sucked in a deep breath when he saw the tears in those shimmering orbs. They were clinging to his, begging him to leave, for she didn’t want him to see her breaking down. “Please, Mr. Wright. Just … go.”

At that moment, illuminated by the light of his phone and now the saddened face of Widget, who was glowing bright azure, Phoenix could finally make out those expressive eyes. They were the color of a fresh bluebell from the valley, captivating, and gentle. Like the flower, her look until now was never straight, preferring a timid, downward focus. Large, moist, blue eyes.

No, he corrected himself. Not just blue eyes.

At first glance, the twin gems only sparkled, but if you risked looking deeper, you could clearly perceive the sorrow of heartbreak, the happiness of love, the promise of the future, the grief of sadness, and the flame of a spirit that would never quit within those huge, wide-set, crystalline eyes.

Trucy’s eyes.

He felt the ache in his chest magnify, followed by the choking sensation of a golf ball being wedged in his throat.

It seemed horribly unfair that no matter how much he strived and yearned and prayed to be the man he was certain he was destined to be, ruthless, taunting moments like this would still arise to keep taunting him with his failures. Each time the arduous contritions returned, he would carefully examine them again, hoping that this time his battered mind and tortured heart would be content with his acceptance while trying to make the most of his present conditions, but such was never the case. Like a relentless ghost, that crippling guilty regret would be back tomorrow to haunt him all over again.

This young girl, one who reminded him so much of his cherished daughter that she even bore her most telling feature, was in deep trouble and desperately needed his help. In spite of that, there wasn’t a damn thing in the world he could do to save her.

It was like a stab to the heart. He felt just as hapless, just as powerless as he had when he’d watched Maya mercilessly get tossed into that medieval fire pit by those wretched knights.

“Please believe me, Athena.” He bowed his head, his hands gripping the bars so tightly, his knuckles turned white. “A long time ago, in another lifetime, I was a nearly undefeated California defense attorney. However, seven years ago, something bad happened, and I was stripped of my badge. Consequently, there’s legally nothing I can do for you. Moreover, I’m so out of practice that I don’t think I could win your case. My skills are rustier than a bike chain left out in the rain. Knowing that I can’t help you is killing me inside…”

“Shhh. It’s OK. I believe you,” she whispered, reaching through the bars and placing a gloved hand over his knuckles, startling him with the words more than the gesture. “You’re telling the truth. I can hear your heart. It’s crying out in anguish. You really do want to help me, don’t you?

“M – My heart?” Phoenix jerked back slightly and gaped at her. “What do you mean, you can hear my heart?”

“I know you may think I’m crazy, but I assure you, this is no more insane than this roller coaster I’ve been on ever since stepping foot in this godforsaken town, for what was supposed to be a mere extracurricular school trip, only yesterday.” Athena shook her head ruefully. “Long story short, I have very sensitive hearing. Some people would call me a freak for having such an ability, some people would call it a superpower. Others still would dismiss me as a lunatic and just wouldn’t believe me at all.”

“Phwwh!”

The loud burst of hilarity visibly stunned the prisoner, who jolted and raised her hands to her face, yet Phoenix still couldn’t contain his merrymaking, doubling over to the point of needing to clutch the bars with one hand to hold himself upright.

“I hope you don’t think I’m stark, raving mad…” The perplexed youngster continued awkwardly. “But the truth is stranger than fiction, right?”

“Ahahahahahaha!”

Despite himself, the card shark continued to guffaw, then smiled apologetically at the bewildered girl, not wanting her to think she was the true cause of his sudden mirth. Surely Athena would see the ironic humor of her innocuous remark once he sobered enough to explain it to her!

Phoenix had one daughter who was a human lie detector, with the skill of perceiving people’s nervous twitches, to the point where he was a seven-year undefeated poker champion. She also had a secret older brother, his own reluctant protégé, who shared the same uncanny perception capability. His older daughter (whose beau could talk to animals!) was a gifted spirit medium who could resurrect his dead employer as easily as breathing. Furthermore, said prodigy shared this family trait with his longtime ex-girlfriend, who could now channel famous dead people on a whim, along with the someday Mrs. Wright, who was the Head Ghost Whisperer of their entire clan! Not to mention the fact that his future wife had bequeathed him a mystical gemstone that allowed him to see the secrets of somebody’s soul.

And poor Athena Cykes was worried that he would think she was crazy!

“Knock me down and steal my teeth!” Phoenix wheezed, wondering if he was the one losing his mind to be cracking up at such an inappropriate time when this young lady’s life was on the line. Jeez, Louise, he wasn’t Calisto Yew, the human laughing hyena! “Athena, I’m so sorry. Please, excuse me – I swear I’m not laughing at you. I was laughing because of… reasons. Ones I swear I’ll regale you with when we don’t have more pressing issues to deal with, first and foremost! Now then, tell me more about this uncanny power of yours.”

“Well…” Athena eyed him suspiciously for a split second.

“I’m very interested. Moreover, I promise, I completely believe you.”

The redhead tilted her head at him again, then smiled, obviously having determined he was telling the truth.

“I’m glad to know you’re not making fun of me! In a nutshell, perceptive hearing is generally defined as noise that causes discomfort and/or pain to the person, usually loud noises. The more scientific term for such sensitive hearing is called Hyperacusis. It can be acquired through working in a noisy environment or after having an ear operation, although some people are born with sympathetic hearing, such as myself. I can pick up distant noises/voices and hear everything that’s background sound. Also, at times, I can be discomforted by picking up the emotions in people’s voices, which the average person cannot pick up. That’s why I could tell that you were genuinely remorseful about your plight and not being able to help me.”

“That’s quite a remarkable gift you have.” He regarded her in awe, now finally having regained his composure. “Have you managed to hone this knack so you’re no longer discomfited by this superpower of yours?”

“You bet I have!” She flashed a toothy grin and raised two fingers in the peace sign, all traces of pending tears completely vanquished. “Do you want to hear about it?”

This girl is certainly animated and cheery, even in grim circumstances! Phoenix was getting quite tickled by Athena’s sudden, dramatic shifts in temperament. She reminds me a little bit of Maya, which only makes me like her more!

“I’m in my last year of school, and I’m majoring in analytical psychology and law. I was only a few credits away from graduating and getting both of my degrees next spring. But then, you know… this mess happened…”

“I know. It’s one hell of a setback! That notwithstanding… You are truly a one-of-a-kind phenomenon!” He let out a low whistle of appreciation. “I mean, wow! You’re going to be graduating with both psychology and law degrees, in less than a year from now? You must be some sort of genius! You remind me of my best friend, who became a prosecutor at the age of 20, but you’re even younger than that surely? How old are you, 16? 17?”

“I’m going to be 18 in the winter.” She beamed proudly. “When I was a little girl, background noises gave me such terrible headaches that I couldn’t go to school like normal kids and had to essentially be homeschooled. I used a lot of that solitude time pushing myself to study harder and be ahead of the curriculum, so I consequently skipped a few grades. I managed to find a silver lining, and I’ve since learned to manage my hearing so it no longer controls me and my life as much, allowing me to live a generally normal existence, like most kids my age.”

“Speaking of silver linings…” A sonorous voice cut in suddenly. “We have some news that might be of interest to the two of you, Miss Cykes and Sir Blue Knight.”

Pleased about the impromptu promotion (because being referred to as a knight rather than plain Mister, even if not fully applicable, did make him feel kind of gallant and badass at the same time!) the surprised Phoenix turned around to face Barnham, along with the man silently standing behind him in the shadows. He was taken aback less by the fact that the barrister was no longer cross with him (for which he was quite thankful) and more so by the appearance of the former knight’s strangely familiar, black-caped companion, who was emanating a deeply mysterious aura.

The stern-faced, silver-haired gentleman stepped forward, revealing the chessboard design robe beneath his floor-length cloak, along with his identity. It was none other than Espella’s father and current Labyrinthia mayor, Arthur Cantabella himself.

“Hello, Mr. Barnham. Long time no see, Mr. Cantabella,” Phoenix greeted the Englishmen politely while the prisoner waved at the men in salutation. “Athena and I would be most eager to hear any sort of news you have to share, although we certainly do hope it’s the good variety.”

“Indeed, it is. Also, though I’m sorry about the circumstances which have brought you back to Labyrinthia, it is a pleasure to meet with you again after all this time, Mr. Wright.” Cantabella gave a long, sweeping bow of such elegance, it would’ve rivaled even that of Miles Edgeworth himself. “Much has transformed since you were here last, changes which I, as head of the town’s municipal government, which is independent of Britain itself, am pleased to enlighten you about.”

“We have found a loophole so that you can defend Miss Cykes,” Barnham announced, beaming at his mate, and then at Athena, who blushed prettily in response and dropped her gaze bashfully. “I knew we would. Where there’s a will, there’s a way! Please kneel, Sir Blue Knight.”

“Wh – What?” Phoenix stammered, utterly flummoxed. “What’s going on here?”

“Just listen to the handsome prince, Spiky!” Widget bleeped, while Athena merely busied herself with coyly stroking her ponytail, which she’d been doing ever since she’d set eyes on the comely barrister.

The bewildered hobo obliged the command as the former Storyteller loomed over his kneeling form.

“As Mayor, I hereby use my authority to make you, Phoenix Wright, formerly known as Sir Blue Knight, an Official Defender Knight of Labyrinthia.” Cantabella decreed grandly, waving his large quill with a flourish as though it were a sword and placing it first on Phoenix’s left shoulder, then the right. “This is the Labyrinthian equivalent to being a Defense Attorney. You are thence in possession of the privileged authority to stand and defend in court, so long as you remain within the borders of Labyrinthia!”

Phoenix rose to his feet, smiling with uncertainty.

“I’m honored and humbled that you went to such lengths to give me this opportunity, Mr. Cantabella, but as I was saying to the accused, I’ve been out of the legal world for so long, I’m afraid I may not be the best courtroom contender for her…”

“It has to be you, Sir Blue Knight!” Barnham exploded, thumping his fist heavily against the cell bars and making poor Athena jump back in fright. “Being a separate city, we merely possess some autonomy and municipal laws of our own, such as the authority to try small and petty crimes here in the Municipal Court of Labyrinthia. The young lady’s trial shall take place in Special Court, the outdoor tribunal specially constructed in Labyrinthia’s Town Square. If she is found innocent here, she’s free to leave. However, if she is condemned here, she will still have to face trial at the Old Bailey.”

“So, it’s a pre-trial, in a manner of speaking?” Phoenix clarified. “Would that be because the dungeons are only a temporary holding cell, akin to a city detention center, and there’s no long-term place to keep convicted convicts?”

“Essentially, yes. The biggest crime here in Labyrinthia nowadays is the occasional donnybrook at the pub, for which Emeer Punchenbaug is usually the pissed miscreant/instigator! That dingy cell is basically used as his personal drunk tank!”

“Well, that explains the stench of a stale brewery in here,” Athena disgustedly muttered under her breath. “Along with the rancid vomit fumes!”

“Capital offenses, such as murder, will always have to be tried by the British courts. We are sincerely hoping it will not come to that, as we cannot risk another global scandal or be accused of not following things to the letter.”

Barnham raked an agitated hand through his hair.

“Don’t you understand? If you refuse to defend Miss Cykes, we’ll have no choice but to stick Knightle as her defense attorney! He’s already scatty enough as it is, but with his wife Kira due any day now with their firstborn, his attentions will be more distracted than ever! If he ends up trying this case, you may as well cage the young lady and drop her into the fire pit yourself!”

“F – Firepit?” The poor detainee croaked, swaying slightly on her feet, as though she were about to faint. “Whatever happened to a good old-fashioned, mercifully humane hanging?!”

“You’re going to die a virgin!” Widget wailed, blue glowing sad face in full effect.

Athena’s face slowly morphed into the same shade as the prosecutor’s hair and she let out a mortified moan while burying her face in her hands.

Wow, she just turned 5 shades of red! Phoenix sniggered inwardly. I was expecting 50!

“Apologies, Miss Cykes.” Barnham bowed grandly, enough of a gentleman to ignore the embarrassing robotic eruption. “The reference was merely intended as a figure of speech, in my fervid efforts to persuade Sir Blue Knight that even his latent legal capabilities would still assuredly trump the rubbish skills of my learned friend, even though Knightle’s are current! I give you my solemn word that we no longer barbecue convicted felons in Labyrinthia, and capital punishment has long since been abolished in England.”

Athena sagged down onto the ground in visible relief.

“That being said, I don’t reckon doing porridge would suit you either!” The ex-knight added, raising a brow at Phoenix. “Hence my efforts in emphasizing how dire this situation is! To top it all off, the victim was an American exchange student who came from a very famous, affluent lineage of lawyers in California. They are quite renowned for being cutthroat in their profession, and no doubt will be out for your blood should this turn into an international incident!”

“Famous California legal clan, you said?” Phoenix stroked his chin. “What was the victim’s surname? I wonder if I’d have heard of them?”

“I will share that information with you,” Barnham reassured him. “Along with all the case files and the updated autopsy report, once the medical examiner is finished with it. I promise things will be different with me as your opposition, this time around, Sir Blue Knight.”

“Thanks in advance for not pulling an Edgeworth!” The spiky-haired man grinned wryly. “Wait – shut the front door! You’re going to be the prosecution for this case?”

“Better the devil you know – isn’t that how the saying goes? Besides, I don’t have much of a choice now, do I, what with Mr. Edgeworth suddenly flying the coop?” The lawyer shrugged. “Who did you think was going to be your courtroom rival? Former High Inquisitor Darklaw?”

“No! Not the crazy cat lady!” Widget squawked, now flashing yellow. “ANYONE but her! She makes me sneeze!”

“Fret not, milady.” This time, Barnham chuckled at the outburst. “Miss Belduke hasn’t had her previously esteemed position for a decade now, and these days she is too busy tending to her copious feline friends at the sanctuary to be bothered with legal matters, even though I’m told she was the one who arrested you, Miss Cykes.”

“I feel a little bit better about my prospects as the defense since I’m going to be kept in the loop this time,” Phoenix admitted, then grinned at Athena. “Plus, it helps that the defendant is a law student, so I can definitely tap into that resource if need be.”

“You got it!” Athena punched her gloved fist into her palm. “Let’s do this!”

“I know Espella would be delighted to be your legal assistant, Sir Blue Knight,” Cantabella offered courteously. “She’s been on trial so many times in the past that her licit input would be as good as gold!”

“Thank you, Mr. Cantabella. I’ll take any support I can get! Plus, I’m looking forward to seeing your daughter again.” The newly appointed defense smiled gratefully at the mayor, then turned back to Barnham. “We seem to have gotten sidetracked! You were about to enlighten me about the name of the victim in this case?”

“Apologies. Allow me to get that for you. It was a most memorable, albeit comical, family name, I assure you…” Barnham flipped through the manila file in his hand and read the name aloud. “The victim was a white male, age 18. First name, Wayland. Last name, Payne.”

The blood began to roar in Phoenix’s ears, which he was positive were failing him! Surely Barnham hadn’t just said …

No! It couldn’t be! This has to be a coincidence!

“Son of Mrs. Diane Payne and ‘Rookie-Killer’ Prosecutor Winston Payne,” continued the barrister as he studied the dossier, unaware that his friend’s eyes had morphed into incredulous saucers. “And nephew to ‘Rookie Humiliator’ Prosecutor, Gaspen Payne…”

Widget flared yellow again.

“We’re in for a lot of Payne!”

Miles Edgeworth
Tartu-Ülenurme Airport, Borginia
July 21, 2026

The minute he passed through customs, the very first thing Miles did was whip out his mobile and call a certain “double-dealing” Interpol Agent.

“Hiya, Mr. Edgeworth!” Kay Faraday chirped in greeting. “Have you landed already? That sure was fast!”

“I didn’t bring any luggage with me, so there was nothing to delay me once I disembarked from the plane.” He refused to match the young woman’s chipper tone or hide his own frosty one. “I’ll be taking the first taxi over to HQ, but first of all, I’d like to have a word with you about your unspeakable treachery. I thought taking on the Yatagarasu legacy from the late, great Byrne Faraday meant you only stole the truth, not maliciously concealed or withheld it!”

There was a very long, uncomfortable pause on the line.

“Um, what are you talking about?” The guilt was evident in the Great Thief’s voice even as she haltingly spoke the words. “What did I do now?”

“Do you truly mean to continue playing dumb about a certain person who was not so much missing as much as she has been hiding? The one whose whereabouts I asked you to investigate, all for naught?” Miles demanded crossly. “The proverbial cat is out of the bag. I am fully aware of how you and Agent Lang – to whom I have already expressed my displeasure regarding his deceit! – have known about Franziska’s whereabouts this whole time! I suppose in hindsight, I should have expected no less from the self-serving Wolf Man. However, I profess to have been quite astounded by your duplicity! You and I are not merely colleagues, but longtime friends. Pray tell then, why you’d betray me in such a vile manner?”

There was a slight sniffle from the ninja, but the prosecutor was in no mood to be softened by the threat of female tears.

“Answer me, Kay!” He barked harshly. “I deserve an explanation!”

“I’m so, so sorry, Mr. Edgeworth.” She sounded downright miserable. “You have to know how much you mean to me … and how much veneration I have for you. I love you like family. We’re two of a kind when it comes to ill-fated tragedies surrounding our parents, and I never want to lose that bond I have with you.”

Another sniffle.

“But Ms. Von Karma means a lot to me, too! She’s always been so sweet to me – I’m the only person on our team she hasn’t tried to whip! Moreover, I’ll never forget how kind and caring she was to me when I lost my father. When she swore me to secrecy about her whereabouts, I –I just couldn’t betray her trust in the end. Not to somebody who’s always been a good friend to me and was nursing my poor, injured Uncle Badd, to boot! You have no idea how much I hated being put between a rock and a hard place like this because I adore you both so much! I’m begging you not to hate me!”

Her voice shook from barely suppressed tears.

“Please forgive me, Mr. Edgeworth! I’m begging you!”

Unlike Lang, who’d met Miles’s allegations with nothing more than defensiveness and weak excuses, Kay’s remorse was genuine. He’d always had a soft spot for the girl and knew she truly must have been in great turmoil to have kept a secret this big from him. Therefore, he saw no need to subject her to any further tongue-lashing.

“Forget about it. Please stop crying, Kay,” he said gruffly. “Or at least wait until I get over there in person, and allow you to sully yet another one of my cravats with your mucous emanations!”

“Even if I did use your prize accessory as a handkerchief again, I know you probably still keep a spare with you!” She let out a shaky titter of relief. “Anyway, let’s get you over here! I was keeping track of your flight itinerary, so I’ve already sent an airport limousine to come get you from the passenger pickup. The driver’s probably already there in the waiting area. Just keep an eye out for the black-stretch model from Tulika Takso Company.”

Kay had always been the over-the-top sort. A simple cab would have suited him fine, but he wasn’t about to complain about a luxury ride on the lengthy trip to Interpol Headquarters.

“It appears that I shall be arriving there in high style,” he said dryly. “Thank you, Kay. I’ll see you soon.”

The cravat-wearer dropped his mobile into his trouser pocket and strode towards the taxi park, noting how busy the area was this time of day. He sent a silent note of thanks to his friend for arranging transport for him, as there were far more hustling passengers than vehicles available at the moment. The prosecutor had no wish to be jostled and shoved in the fray by over-zealous travelers vying for a ride home.

“Mr. Miles Edgeworth?” A deep voice came from behind him.

“Yes?”

Miles turned around, expecting to come face to face with the person who’d spoken his name, and instead found himself nose-first in the barrel chest of a specimen that was more mountain than man.

“Up here,” the voice boomed, resonating as though coming from somewhere in the clouds, as the wide man was at least seven feet tall, with legs as big as an adult’s waist.

Craning his neck, the slate-haired man found himself staring up into the face of a giant so corpulent, that any chair he’d sit on would undoubtedly disappear beneath the spread of his buttocks – assuming there even existed one that could hold his weight!

Noticing his overwhelmed expression, the behemoth grinned down at the magenta-suited DA. He was bald, with a black mustache and several chins, each one melting into the next, then finally into his neck and shoulders. He wore a pin-striped suit, which must have used enough material to make a circus tent.

“I knew it had to be you.” The oversized talking Buddha statue jerked a meaty thumb towards the ebon limousine pulled over to the side, parked slightly further away from the crowd of other taxis. “You ordered a limo?”

Miles nodded.

“Follow me. No bags?”

Still dumbfounded by Goliath’s imposing presence, the lawyer simply shook his head.

“A no-fuss traveler.” The man flashed a wide, toothy grin that was more like a leer, somehow resembling a cross between a manatee and Jaws. “Fine by me! Makes my job easier.”

As Miles approached the limo, complete with dark, tinted windows, the man flung the rear door open with such force, he was sure it would be ripped from its hinges! He’d barely gotten one leg inside when he spotted the slumped-over body of a slender form wearing uniformed chauffeur’s clothing and cap, sprawled in the backseat.

“What the deuce?!” He cried in alarm, his intuitive instincts kicking into high gear as he realized that something was dreadfully wrong with this picture!

The realization came too late.

The next thing he knew, there was a sharp prick in his side, and he was dimly aware of the large man shoving him into the car beside the ill-fated driver.

Then everything went black.

The chauffeur’s partition window rolled down, exposing the mug of a skinny man in a fedora with a greasy, rat-like ponytail, who’d been joined in the front passenger seat by the mammoth.

“Nice job, Arsen,” Arachnis praised his cohort, then turned to sneer at the unconscious prosecutor, showing off his newly missing front tooth. “Nighty-night … Maximillian Banks, the Third.”

Frank Sinatra – It Had To Be You