186 The Heat Is On

Will the faithful be rewarded
When we come to the end?
Will I miss the final warning
From the lie that I have lived
Is there anybody calling?
I can see the soul within
And I am not worthy
I am not worthy of this

[Chorus]
Are you with me after all?
Why can’t I hear you?
Are you with me through it all?
Then why can’t I feel you?
Stay with me, don’t let me go
Because there’s nothing left at all
Stay with me, don’t let me go
Until the Ashes of Eden fall

[Verse 2]
Will the darkness fall upon me
When the air is growing thin?
Will the light begin to pull me
To its everlasting will?
I can hear the voices haunting
There is nothing left to fear
And I am still calling
I am still calling to you

[Chorus]
Are you with me after all?
Why can’t I hear you?
Are you with me through it all?
Then why can’t I feel you?
Stay with me, don’t let me go
Because there’s nothing left at all
Stay with me, don’t let me go
Until the Ashes of Eden fall

[Outro]
Don’t let go, don’t let go
Don’t let go, don’t let go
Don’t let go, don’t let go
Why can’t I hear you?
Stay with me, don’t let me go
Because there’s nothing left at all
Stay with me, don’t let me go
Until the Ashes of Eden fall
Heaven above me, take my hand
(Stay with me, don’t let me go)
Shine until there’s nothing left but you
Heaven above me, take my hand
(Stay with me, don’t let me go)
Shine until there’s nothing left but you

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

Standing inside Katharina Rudolf’s hotel suite, even after her own tears of sympathy had dried, upon finally hearing the true reason Miles had been walked out on by the love of his life, Maya remained rooted in place. Stroking the satiny silver head, she continued emitting soft, cooing sounds, as the verklempt German cried her aching heart out, releasing the deluge of emotions that’d been dammed within her for far too long.

“I’m sorry, Franziska,” the spirit medium murmured woefully, wishing with all her might that she could magically conjure an anodyne for all the other woman’s longtime dolor and grief. “I’m so, so sorry. But don’t you think you should tell Miles what you just told me? The real truth about why you left?”

“Nein! I cannot – I will not! – further burden a man who has already endured so much suffering in life because of my family!” The other woman whispered fiercely. “You gave me your absolute, solemn word you would never tell another soul – not even Phoenix! I shall hold you to that, Maya Fey!”

“I did give you my word, and I won’t break it for all the burgers in the world. I swear.”

“Other factors notwithstanding, it truly was for the best. I made a decision driven by necessity. Miles and I, we shared an uncanny resemblance that became apparent over time. We were intricately connected, like two sides of an inseparable coin. Our existence together left no space for both of us to thrive. Our love, oh, it was a breathtaking symphony of emotions, brimming with intensity. And when we clashed, our battles were fierce, fueled by the same indomitable spirit. From the very beginning, deep within my heart, I sensed the truth.”

The words were muffled against the commiserating psychic’s shoulder.

“You must think me to be such a weak, pathetic fool, Maya. How is it every time we cross one another’s paths, I am nothing more than a weeping willow in your arms?”

“Enough of this nonsense.”

The necromancer’s tone was gentle but firm.

“You’re one of the strongest women I’ve ever known, Franziska Von Karma. I will never think of you as anything but, and will only think of you as a fool if you ever believe otherwise! Strength isn’t about concealing your pain; it’s about acknowledging it. It’s not about facing struggles alone, but seeking support when needed. It’s not about depriving yourself of joy to prove self-control. It’s not about suppressing sadness or vulnerability. And it’s certainly not about bearing life’s burdens single-handedly. Anything that obstructs your healing and hinders your personal growth contradicts the essence of true strength. Believe me, I speak from profound experience and wisdom gained along the way.”

With the bereft younger Von Karma sibling still cradled in her arms, the Kurain leader made slow, gentle, rocking motions, like a mother with a newborn.

“To embody strength, one must possess the wisdom to reject those who inflict harm upon their soul. It entails embracing self-care as a sacred ritual during moments of pain. It entails granting oneself permission to fully experience and articulate their emotions, acknowledging their significance. It entails extending compassion and gentleness towards oneself, even in times when self-worth seems elusive. It entails pursuing activities that bring joy and surrounding oneself with individuals who radiate positivity, irrespective of external opinions. Most importantly, it entails recognizing the burden of the world’s troubles and having the courage to seek assistance when it becomes overwhelming.”

Franziska’s sobs quieted a notch as she listened silently. Encouraged, the American continued.

“True wisdom lies in granting yourself the freedom to fulfill your needs by establishing boundaries and expressing your thoughts. It entails granting yourself forgiveness on those challenging days when courage eludes you. It involves confronting the inner voice that claims you are insufficient and insignificant, and repeatedly affirming to yourself that you possess immeasurable worth. Remember, the path to empowerment begins with self-acceptance, and reminding yourself, repeatedly, that you are enough.”

“But in the end, I wasn’t enough. Deep down, I think I always knew that like all good things, our love story would eventually come to an end.”

The ex-Interpol Agent stepped back and dried her eyes on her sleeve before facing her dialogue partner squarely.

“I can sense the inevitable pain you will inflict upon me,” I uttered with a heavy heart. His response echoed with stubbornness akin to my own, a shared defiance. The same pride that coursed through my veins. The memory of our final, tumultuous clash lingers vividly in my mind. “Your love for me falls short of the depth I hold for you,” I accused, my emotions welling up, yearning to be released. At that moment, tears threatened to spill, but they remained trapped within. As night descended, I found solace in the soft sanctuary of my tear-soaked sheets, and he enveloped me with his arms, a feeble attempt to offer comfort. My tear-stained face buried against his neck, I whispered, “Forgive Liebling. I am sorry. Deeply sorry. So utterly sorry.” The next morning, he tried to feign normalcy, but an unshakeable weight lingered in the atmosphere – a burden that could never be alleviated or undone.”

“Oh, Franziska,” the raven-haired woman susurrated feelingly, but the former DA wasn’t done yet.

“Our similarities were ultimately too uncanny, too profound to escape notice. We possessed an innate understanding of each other, even in the art of inflicting pain, albeit unintentionally. It wasn’t a mere scratch, but a piercing blade that penetrated deep into our souls. We held the power to tear each other apart, just as we possessed the ability to uplift and mend. Fear gripped me tightly. “He will lacerate my heart and puncture incurable wounds in my soul,” I whispered to myself, and an inner voice echoed, “Yet you knew this from the very beginning.” Clinging on, despite being aware right from the start … this truly renders me the greatest fool of all. The weight of that realization lingers in the air, an everlasting burden that can never be dispelled or undone.”

“Don’t you think you’re being a bit too hard on yourself?” The Master implored. “Franziska, 
please, pump the breaks on the self-hate train! You need to stop torturing yourself like this!”

“You do not understand, Maya, since you were not present to bear witness to it. You weren’t there to witness our heartbreaking disintegration in the final moments, right before I lost Carol. In that fateful summer, our clashes grew so intense that we bled emotionally. Paradoxically, our love only exacerbated the pain. He believed I could not forgive him for his transgressions, and with each conversation, I felt myself crumbling into a hollow existence. That is precisely the reason why I made the agonizing decision to end it all, not because my love for him had truly waned.”

Franziska pressed together her quivering lips.

No, even as I shut my eyes, the vivid memories of our kisses linger, especially that last bittersweet embrace, Liebling. I can still feel the warmth of your embrace, the tender touch of our lips, the solace of resting upon your chest, and the intertwining of our fingers. Our shared moments, those walks filled with laughter and the naissance of our private jokes, are etched deeply within me. I will safeguard them with all my heart, for they are now fragments of our separate worlds. I want you to understand the depth of my yearning. It consumes me, leaving me utterly desperate. Yet, this desperation does not nullify the undeniable truth: I am a source of harm to you. And if I am detrimental to you, it means you are equally detrimental to me. Witnessing your anguish becomes unbearable; it tears through the very fabric of my being. I cannot – no, I refuse – to be the cause of such immense suffering. It rends apart the essence of my existence.

She squeezed her eyes shut tightly as she recalled the prose she’d written in her journal the night her fiancé had left for the sting mission, the verses permanently seared into her memory.

I intended to write until the pain subsided until it faded away into oblivion. Yet, despite my efforts, the pain remained steadfast. No matter how fervently I poured my thoughts onto paper, it refused to abate. The written words, however numerous, failed to soothe the agony entrenched deep within me.

In the aftermath of flames,

I find myself amidst love’s ruins.

Your hands bear scorching scars,

and your lips are numbed, frozen.

Unspoken words echo loudly above,

suspended in the air we breathe.

They infiltrate our veins,

pierce our lungs,

and sting our tear-filled eyes.

The poison of “This is not working…”

seeps like toxic gas,

tempting the walls to consume me whole.

Yet, I must remain in this space,

held captive by circumstance.

“I love you,” almost escapes my lips,

a declaration surpassing all prior affections.

But it feels trivial,

insignificant,

a mere whisper in the vastness.

I yearn to convey,

“When love loses its significance,

it marks the demise of all things.”

But I keep those words unspoken,

embracing the flicker of hope in silence.

The weight of unsaid words hangs in the air,

whispering, “Love was meant to be our salvation.”

I am left to ponder,

how did it transform into our undoing?

I attempted to pen the tale of departure, of leaving him behind and abandoning the torment. I yearned to portray it as an act of valor, an embodiment of liberation. The writer within me longed to craft a narrative of beauty. However, the raw truth reveals a different reality. It was far from beautiful. It was merely the act of leaving, a flaw-ridden endeavor—a coward’s path to escape. It was the painful act of walking away, with a throat burdened by gravel, struggling desperately not to let the weight of unspoken words suffocate the very life breath from me.

“During the night, I am imprisoned in wakefulness by the ceaseless monologue of my inner being. I hear whispers of ancient wounds and nostalgic echoes of a love now gone, while its insistent pleas and anxious murmurs echo relentlessly within me. Throughout the day, I may exude an appearance of tranquility and composure, but as darkness falls, my mind erupts into chaos. The moment arrives to rise from the bed, yet I find myself paralyzed by my own thoughts, wholly incapable of motion.”

The words were no more than a broken whisper.

“Under the weight of weariness, my eyelids sagged, and a throbbing ache reverberated through my head. Every fiber of my being throbbed with a profound yearning, the anguish of a vital absence. The hours crept by sluggishly, prompting me to question if time itself had ceased during my unconscious state. This was the stark reality of detaching oneself from a person deeply cherished for an extensive duration –an agonizing battle that seemed insurmountable. All I yearned for was a respite from the tears, the anguish, the relentless longing. Yet each passing day unfolded in an indistinguishable pattern. I surrendered to sleep, haunted by the lingering sensation of his embrace, only to awaken to a desolate solitude with my torturous mind as my sole company.”

Restlessly, my sadistic thoughts inevitably wandered towards the image of the woman – or perhaps even women – he was now entwined with, sharing tender kisses. I could not help but ponder if they bore any resemblance to me; if they tasted his lips with the same fervor. I contemplated the unique flavors of passion and nonchalance, each possessing its distinct essence. Yet, love … love had an elusive taste that defied description. It was akin to being overwhelmed, brimming with emotions, oblivious to emptiness and hunger. In those sleepless moments, I wondered about his happiness. I envisioned him overflowing with it or perhaps desperately attempting to fill the void left by nameless Frauen, each leaving a void that left him even more hollow than before.

A stray droplet rolled down her cheek.

Perhaps he would recollect our shared moments and harbor remorse for the way our story concluded. Alternatively, it could be that he had moved on, while I remained the only one who remained entangled in the remnants of our love. It dawned on me that I might have been projecting my own emotions onto him, imposing my longing where it no longer belonged. In the stillness of the night, I lay there, aware that he had no means to reach out, yet an irrational yearning consumed me, wishing for that tender sound of his voice, even if it were just to discuss mundane topics like the weather. The depth of missing someone’s voice becomes painfully apparent once it falls silent. However, he never made that call, for I had ensured he could not. And yet, I remained too weary to surrender to slumber, so I lay there, trapped in wakefulness, endlessly wondering about his well-being.

She tightly dug her fingernails into her palms to thwart another barrage of tears from falling again.

There were moments when I gazed into his captivating, silver eyes, questioning the authenticity of his whispered words: “I love you.” I convinced myself that I had fallen too swiftly, too prematurely for this boy, who later became a man, and that inevitably he would grow weary of my affection. And he did. Now, I find myself engulfed in regret, consumed by melancholy, yet an irrational glimmer of hope persists within me, yearning for his return. I envision alternate scenarios where our love unfurled with tenderness, believing it could have endured without inflicting such profound wounds that reconciliation became an insurmountable task. I understood his obligation, the fateful day that called him away, but against all reason, I clung to the desperate, foolish wish that he would have found a way to remain. That he somehow could have managed to stay by my side. That he had never left.

Tyrell Badd
Interpol Headquarters, Borginia
July 21, 2026

It’s like I never left.

It was all coming back to him now – he was in full-blown, chase em’ down, blood-pumping detective mode, as though he were still on his beat with the LAPD.

Like he’d never left.

The fully recuperated Tyrell Badd was back in top form, better than ever. It was as though he hadn’t spent the past few years in semi-retired, behind-the-scenes mode.

And spent the last year suffering from mind-numbing boredom at a sedentary desk job, while recuperating from grievous injuries under the watchful eye of my own adoring but autocratic Nurse Ratched!

His recovery, with only a few cuts and bruises, long-ago mended broken ribs, and losing the hearing in one ear after such a devastating explosion still blew his mind. The doctors called it nothing short of a miracle.

Cuz heaven don’t want me and hell’s afraid I’ll take over!

Badd had become accustomed to such recurring phenomena.

His many relentless years trying to bring Calisto Yew to justice, for the murder of Kay’s father, Byrne Faraday, had been an agonized, persevering feat. And although he’d been successful in his endeavors, there had been a lot of admitted “grey areas” in his methods to do so.

The astounding part was even though the courts had deemed he’d had the requisite scienter in the laws and rules he’d bent – if not flat-out broken! – he’d still managed to keep his detective’s badge and not serve any time behind bars.

In that particular instance, the original Yatagarasu’s lenient verdict, of only brief suspension from the squad, had been entirely thanks to the second-to-none legal defense skills of Raymond Shields.

However, that was a whole other story unto itself, leading to a whole new chain of events that’d been seven years in the making.

No matter what you think you pull you’ll find it’s not enough
No matter who you think you know you won’t get through
It’s a given L.A. law
Someone’s faster on the draw
No matter where you hide, I’m comin’ after you yeah

The music blaring from the boom box in Badd’s weapon room at HQ only heightened his momentum as he brooded over the deadly mission he and Kay were about to embark on.

It had all come to a head now – the payoff for all of Interpol’s collective grit and determination in this sting operation – resulting in this pending final showdown.

No matter how the race is run it always ends the same
Another room without a view awaits downtown
You can shake me for a while
Live it up in style
No matter what you do I’m gonna take you down

Badd lovingly stroked the barrel of Betsy, his trusty sidekick. He named all his guns the way people named their cars. But Ol’ Betsy was his favorite.

The 0.38 caliber Smith & Wesson was his perfect weapon of choice: small, discreet, and deadly. At first, the metal was cold in Badd’s large hand, icy perhaps, yet after just one block with his hand wrapped around it, the metal was ambient, feeling more like a part of himself than a tool of death. He was such a specialist with the handling that he could reload as fast as he could fire it, and he would not hesitate to pull the trigger if he had to. He would only need a single shot if the situation arose, and the target’s name had been already predestined, seven long years in the making.

Wong Li Tsong.

Drug Queenpin.

Shakedown
Breakdown
Takedown
Everybody wants into the crowded line
Breakdown
Takedown
You’re busted
Let down
Your guard
Honey, just about the time you’re thinkin’ it’s alright
Breakdown
Takedown
You’re busted

Li.

The deadly viper who had eluded them for far too long.

Li.

That conniving, calculating mastermind who was behind all the mayhem, madness, and murder they’d encountered during this cocoon racket.

This is a town where everyone is reachin’ for the top
This is a place where second best will never do
It’s okay to want to shine
But once you step across that line
No matter where you hide, I’m comin’ after you

Li.

The stone-cold murderess who had been responsible for countless deaths in her bloodthirsty quest for money and power, as well as the hit on poor Lou Pole, his harmless and trusted informant – and nearly killing Badd himself in the process when that deadly car bomb had detonated.

Which meant now, the retribution was personal.

The chase is on my dear, and I will find you. I will hunt you down like the vermin you are and destroy anyone and anything remotely connected to you and your blood money operation. Don’t think you can evade me forever; you are the sole focus on my unwavering radar. No point in running anymore. You can hide in whatever recess of the globe you occupy but know that I will find you, as I do all villains that I pursue, and the day of reckoning won’t be pretty.

The detective clenched his teeth around his ever-present lollipop.

Should you ever stop running, I will only catch you all the sooner, and when I do, don’t even think to play the “I’m just some harmless dame” as a defense in hopes of leniency. I never learned the meaning of the word. Not with hardcore criminals like you.

Shakedown
Breakdown
Takedown
Everybody wants into the crowded line
Breakdown
Takedown
You’re busted
Shakedown
Breakdown
Honey, just about the time you’re thinkin’ it’s alright
Breakdown
Takedown
You’re busted

Badd smirked to himself.

For now, Li, I relentlessly meditate on your destruction and the cold leap of joy I will feel when your empire is extinguished and you can’t ever harm another human being on this earth. You messed with the wrong cop. This is one tenacious detective who keeps his promises – and I promised years ago to take you down. You should have quit ages ago when you might have still had the chance to only face jail time. Because for all your dirty deeds, we’re now talking capital punishment.

Li.

Dead woman walking.

She’s striding The Green Mile and doesn’t even know it yet.

He chomped down hard on his candy, biting it clear off the stick.

I’m coming for you, bitch.

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

Life’s a bitch.

¡Qué vida más perra!

Like everything, it sounded much more pleasing to the ear in Spanish.

It was the exact reason (much to her disgruntled roommate’s chagrin!) that on top of Nina Simone, Franziska had found solace in countless heart-sore Latin songs and ballads over the past year.

Because nobody knew how to encompass heartbreak into lyrical verse better than the Spanish!

Her mind flashed back to a particular single, she’d endlessly listened to, sung by the late Columbian songbird, Patricia Teherán.

Envidio la noche que te vio volver
en busca de lo que un dia dejaste atras
dime que te falta y yo comprendere
y pondre en tus manos mi sinceridad

(I envied the night that saw you return
In search of what one day you left behind
Tell me what you need and I will understand
And I will put in your hands my sincerity)

Enfrentate al mundo que te vio volver
que en defensa tuya siempre voy a estar
y con mi nobleza sabre comprender
el motivo que ahora te hace regresar

(Face the world that saw you return
In your defense I will always be
And with my nobility, I will know how to understand
The reason that now makes you return)

Todo daria por ti de todos modos
quiero que sepas que te adoro
que nunca de deje de amar

(Everything would give for you anyway
I want you to know that I love you
That I never stopped loving)

Y siempre que quise olvidarte en silencio
senti morir en cada intent
pero quien me comprendera

(And whenever I wanted to forget you in silence
I felt death in every attempt
But who will understand me?)

Los que me vieron sufrir
ahora siguen con su afan
quieren lograr que yo te desprecie y no te ame mas

(It’s easy for them to say
I forgot you and I started walking
How much it costs me to tell the world my reality
And it is that without you I have no world, I have nothing)

Todo daria por ti de todos modos
quiero que sepas que te adoro
que nunca de deje de amar.

(Everything would give for you anyway
I want you to know that I love you
That I never stopped loving)

Franziska released an unsteady breath.

Though my longing for you persists, my dearest Liebling, I will keep my silence. Even though our paths shall not intertwine in conversation, I will continue to hold hope in my soul that you find contentment and peace. Deep within the recesses of my thoughts, but at the forefront of my heart, I yearn for you to discover the happiness that eluded us. My love for you, Miles Edgeworth, knows no bounds. It is a love that transcends words and lingers eternally within me.

After a period of contemplation, she uttered with a heavy sigh.

“Perhaps it is unwise for me to love him. It appears that I possess an unfortunate tendency to wreak havoc upon everything I touch. As I have mentioned before, I am indeed a fool. Despite being regarded as a prodigious individual, how much wiser am I truly than the common masses? I can hardly deem myself an intellect of any sort, having allowed myself to be ensnared in a predetermined path towards preordained downfall.”

“Intelligence and love shouldn’t ever be in the same breath, Franziska.”

“I am plagued by this relentless haunting fear that envelops me. It dictates that for the rest of my days, I shall possess enough intellect to discern my desires, yet forever lack the necessary acumen to attain them.”

“The point is moot. There’s a good reason they say ‘fools fall in love’ and I wouldn’t have it any other way! If loving someone means being a fool, then I never want to be considered a genius!”

“You will never change, will you?” Franziska smirked and shook her head. “Your Phoenix Wright-based anecdata know zero bounds! No matter what, at the end of the day, you shall forever be…”

“Yup! Feel free to insert your lofty, Maya Fey, everlasting, sentimental fool commentary … anywhere!” The village leader’s eyes twinkled with mirth. “Guilty as charged!”

Phoenix Wright and Athena Cykes
Special Court, Labyrinthia Town Square
July 21, 2026

“They’re going to find me guilty as charged!” Athena wailed to Espella, her chin wavering uncontrollably as she fought back terrified tears. “These people are out for my blood! The bailiff just announced the trial is about to start, and Mr. Wright has completely vanished!”

Frantically pacing the corridors outside the courtroom, the accused was officially in the beginning throes of a hysterical breakdown, leaving poor Espella with the daunting task of trying to pacify her.

“Try to keep your pecker up, love,” the Englishwoman pleaded, awkwardly patting the girl’s hand. “Everything’s going to be tickety-boo.”

“How do you expect me to chin up when my lawyer is MIA?” Athena clenched her fists and shook them at the heavens. “It’s all over before it even started!”

Widget glowed bright blue.

“We’re doomed to a life of Her Majesty’s Pleasure!”

“No need to go potty just yet! Mr. Wright has never been the sort to abandon a client – believe you me, I should know!”

Espella desperately struggled for believable words of comfort, even though with every passing second of Phoenix’s absence, things only seemed to be getting progressively worse!

“Erm, I reckon Mr. Wright’s a bit tardy because he just needed to get himself sorted…”

“Why don’t you just admit it? He’s thrown in the towel! He – he’s given up on me!”

“Well, he did seem a bit overwhelmed when he got that text from his daughter. The one saying it’d be impossible to ship his fingerprint kit and something called Luminol in time for the trial…”

“I’m not one of your pastries, so there’s no need to sugar-coat things, Espella! His exact words were ‘well there goes my last and final hope for winning this case!’ Yeah, I heard him! Because even though he mumbled it under his breath, he’d forgotten I have really sensitive hearing and could detect the defeat and dismay in his voice, just as I can hear it in yours right now!”

“Surely you can certainly understand his desperation to get his hands on some investigative tools, what with the damning evidence of you literally being caught red-handed, with the victim’s blood all over your palms! It’s only natural he’d be a bit taken aback …”

“You mean he was hyperventilating!” The redhead cried plaintively. “You’re the one who showed him those crime scene details, so I know you don’t believe I’m blameless any more than he does!”

“That’s…not entirely true…” Espella denied weakly, unable to look the American in the eye as she spoke. “Although we hold a lot of archaic systems and beliefs in Labyrinthia, our courts still do try to maintain the belief that you’re innocent until proven guilty…”

“Oh, please! I know you’re just being polite and hospitable because you’re British and it’s what you people do!” Athena’s shoulders drooped. “I’m half expecting somebody to come by and offer me some tea for good measure, then tell me to keep calm and carry on!”

“That’s rubbish! It’s quite stereotypical to assume we English do nothing more than simply drink tea when we’re overwrought with nerves…”

Even as she spoke, the pretty blonde discreetly shook her head as she saw her Aunt Patty about to make her way over to them, trusty travel thermal carafe in one proffered hand. The older woman got the message, then simply shrugged and poured herself a cup, sipping pleasurably from it as she headed towards the crowded gallery to find a seat.

Espella smiled uncertainly as she turned back to the distraught teen.

“Ah, as we were saying…”

“It’s what you’re not saying!” The defendant whinged. “The trial’s about to start, Prosecutor Barnham is already in there, waiting, but Mr. Wright is nowhere to be found! How are we supposed to commence when we only have the suspect and the defense aid present, yet no defense attorney?!”

“You’ll need to learn a trade!” Widget bleeped, now in glowing yellow mode. “Or join a chain gang, since you’ll be doing PORRIDGE FOR LIFE!”

“Here I am!” An out-of-breath Phoenix panted, rushing up to the two and offering a sheepish grin. “Sorry for the delay. I um, just needed some air…”

“It’s an outdoor court!” The overwhelmed girl refused to be placated – she could tell when someone was bluffing to her face. “There’s plenty of circulated ventilation right here!”

“The poor pet was convinced you were going to skive as her counsel, Mr. Wright,” Espella murmured in his ear. “I’ve been trying to soothe her, but to little avail.”

An assessing squiz at his client made Phoenix belatedly realize he’d pulled himself together and arrived mere seconds before Athena had a full-blown, nuclear meltdown. A wave of guilt flooded him as he noted the unshed tears of panic in her cerulean eyes.

“I’m sorry to have worried you, Athena,” he apologized, feeling like the world’s biggest heel. “Yes, the bad news from Trucy about the forensic evidence setback, which would have greatly aided my hindered investigation, threw me for a loop. I did need some space, and not just air, to try to clear my head, but I swear, I’m good now.”

He flashed his best reassuring smile as he ushered the women into the court.

“Rest assured, I’ve faced odds worse than this, and I’ve always managed to pull a log out of the fire – and I’ll do it again today. You have my word.”

“Now, as scheduled!” The judge banged down his gavel the moment they took their places on the defense bench. “The trial of Athena Cykes shall commence forthwith. Prosecutor Barnham, Sir Blue Knight – welcome back.”

The old man raised a bushy, unimpressed eyebrow at the flushed card shark.

“So nice of you to finally join us, good Sir.”

“Apologies, milord.” Phoenix flashed a sickly grin and rubbed the back of his neck. “Um, I’m still running on LA time I guess?”

“The prosecution is ready, milord.” Barnham cut in, bowing his head slightly. “We are ready to commence with the trial to determine if Athena Cykes is guilty of the charge of the first-degree murder of Wayland Payne, on July 20, 2026.”

“Ah, yes.” Phoenix cleared his throat nervously. “The defense is also ready.”

“Then without further ado, the prosecution would like to call its first witness.” Barnham examined his papers, barely disguising the slight grimace creeping over his handsome mien. “Miss Eve Belduke.”

Like a queen entering the throne room, the woman Phoenix had formerly known as High Inquisitor Darklaw grandly swept into the courtroom, looking exactly as she had a decade ago. The only differences were she no longer wore the flowing black cape, and her purple breeches and tunic had been replaced with a long, black, crushed-velvet dress.

What distinctly remained the same, however, was her cat-shaped head ornament, along with the expression of cool disdain, hitherto reserved for the spiky-haired man, which was now directed at the redheaded barrister.

“Witness,” Barnham requested in a voice that could only be described as strained. “Please state your name and occupation.”

“Is there truly anyone in this courtroom who truly believes my name and other privy details remain unknownst to you… love?” Eve uttered, in what should have been a silky purr, yet came out sounding anything but. The smile plastered on her normally comely visage was pure ice.

The Judge slammed down his gavel.

“Enough cheek, witness! State your name and occupation for the record.”

“So be it, if it pleases you, milord.” Another cold smile. “My name is Eve Belduke, formerly known as High Inquisitor Darklaw, as well as ex-bonking counterpart and ex-fiancée to the former knight, Zacharias Barnham…”

“Objection!” Barnham slammed his fist on the bench. “Witness, please state only your present occupation – and spare us the unsolicited references to your past or present personal marital status!”

“Humph. So be it. Nonetheless, denying history will not make it cease to exist! Moreover, those who ignore history are doomed to repeat it!”

A toss of long, violet hair.

“As I stated prior, I am Eve Belduke, current Mistress and owner of Faelēs Fairgrounds, a sacred Cat Sanctuary in Eldwitch Woods.”

“Thank you, Miss Belduke.” Barnham nodded curtly. “Now then, please state what you witnessed on the night of the murder.”

“My, aren’t we quick to chivvy along and rush things to completion to best suit yourself,” She smirked, enjoying the way his phizog turned puce with anger. “Just like always! Isn’t that so, Zacharias?”

“What a load of cobblers!” He seethed. “During our nine years together, you were never once given cause to slag off about my abilities ‘on the job’!”

There was a stunned silence in the courtroom at this unseemly exchange.

“Ah…on the job has the same meaning as how’s your father?” Espella helpfully translated to the slack-jawed Athena and Phoenix. Mistaking their aghast silence for lack of comprehension, she added, “erm, both are English euphemisms for…”

“Please stop!” The blushing poker champ hissed back out of the side of his mouth. “We get it!”

“Yeah! We get it all right! That Brits are all closet, sex-obsessed pervs!” The flashing yellow Widget chimed in, resulting in his owner letting out a humiliated groan as she tried to muffle him.

“Do get your bleeding mind out of the gutter, Zacharias!” Eve retorted. “It’s hardly my fault that you went there! I was simply alluding to the fact that your brusqueness is reminiscent of how you rushed out of my life….”

An accusing glare in Espella’s direction.

“…And straight into that strumpet’s baker’s oven!”

All eyes in the loudly murmuring gallery swiveled in the red-faced blonde’s direction.

“Hello, Eve,” the blonde whispered as she dropped her mortified gaze, looking like she wanted to disappear. “I’m so sorry you still have the wrong idea about Zach and me…”

“Zach?!” Eve shrieked. “So, he’s now become Zach to you, has he?!”

“Your stroppy disposition indicates that your insane fits of jealousy have not abated since things went all sixes and sevens and resulted in our parting ways.”

Barnham sighed and shook his head.

“I still can’t fathom how you ever got the mad notion that I secretly fancied Espella! For the final time, I was covertly visiting the bakery on weekends not to snog with anyone, but so I could hone my baker skills. I’d hoped to surprise you with a squidgy, bespoke birthday cake!”

“Cockadoodle bollocks! Don’t you dare try to re-write history, you tosspot!” Eve’s cadence was growing progressively shrill. “You walked out on me!”

“What are you on about? I walked out on you because when things were starting to go to shambles betwixt us, you threw a bloody cat at me!”

BANG! BANG!

The judge slammed down his gavel.

“Order! Order in the court! This is neither the time nor place for airing out the shambolic state of your personal affairs!”

“Forgive me, milord.” Barnham bowed slightly; his tone humble. “It was a one-off, and shan’t happen again.”

The judge nodded briskly.

“Now then, Miss Belduke, please give us your testimony about the occurrences of yesterday night, and only those events, mind you!”

“Aye, milord.”

Even though her tone had softened, Eve’s turquoise orbs were shooting daggers at Barnham as she addressed the court.

“The night of July 20, I heard a commotion outside and came to investigate. By the time I came upon the scene, I beheld the Yankee chit bashing in the back of the poor lad’s head with a rock! On closer inspection, I saw her hands were stained scarlet, which is solid proof of her evil deed. That red-haired witch hath committed murder most foul!”

Dramatic much? The pianist thought incredulously, gaping at the ex-Lady Darklaw. What a ham! Someone’s been taking Ye Old English speaking to a whole new level of theatrics! Not to mention… Giving a testimony that’s one big act in itself!

“Objection!” He shouted, his pointer finger in full form as he directed it accusingly at the former High Inquisitor. “Miss Belduke, are you honestly claiming you witnessed the exact moment of the murder?”

“How now? Doth mine eyes deceive, or be that Labyrinthia’s most acclaimed Yank attorney yonder?” Eve sneered, crossing her arms. “Be he still the persistent prat who would not concede defeat, even when t’was a lost cause? Methinks such is true.”

The speechless Phoenix, who’d just been painfully reminded he’d long since forgotten all Elizabethan speak since forsaking the path of becoming a Shakespearean actor in favor of a future in law back in his university days of yore, merely gawked at her in response.

“Silence, good gent?” She goaded. “Take heed: ’tis ill-mannered to ignore a lady. Doth, the cat hath thy tongue?”

Oh boy, do I ever regret thinking that the faux British Kilometers Edgeworth was insufferable! Dammit lady, speak English! Preferably, the modern, pseudo-American-friendly variety!

“Is Madam Shakespeare for real?” Widget bleeped, causing Athena to quickly clap her hands around her AI pendant in an attempt to muffle him while ducking down behind Espella. “Or is this some crazy hidden camera reality show?!”

The aggravated Barnham mercifully intervened just as the exasperated hobo nearly succumbed to the urge to assault the bench with his own head!

“Miss Belduke, cease the fannying around and just answer the defense’s question! Did you actually
witness the moment of the murder, as you just claimed?”

Eva jutted her chin and gazed down her nose at Phoenix, pointedly ignoring her ex.

“Verily, I stand by my claim, Sir Blue Knight. What of it?”

“I was hoping you’d say that!” Phoenix had regained his confidence and was now standing with his hands on his hips as he stared her down. “Because now I can formally accuse you of giving false testimony to this court, Miss Belduke!”

There was a collective gasp in the courtroom. Eve clutched her chest.

“What’s this now?!”

“According to the medical report, the victim was struck only once on the head, but it was at the front, not at the back – so TAKE THAT!”

This revelation caused loud, excited gabbing amongst everyone in the gallery. The judge had to bang his gavel repeatedly to restore order.

Barnham shot a pointed glower at Eve.

“Rather than charge this spinner of yarns with perjury, milord, I move that this shirty witness’s testimony is stricken from the court record. Let us throw her out – just like the cat she threw at me!”

Espella clapped a hand on her forehead.

Athena slumped over the bench and moaned.

Phoenix groaned softly and barely resisted the urge to face-palm.

A decade later, on a different continent, in a different country, different time zone – heck, in a different period… yet I still can’t seem to escape wackos and/or shenanigans in the courtroom! This exes from hell spat surely takes the biscuit though! Why here?! Why now?! Whatever happened to the whole polite, restrained, and dignified mannerisms the British are so famous for?!

“Stone the crows, Zacharias!” Eve huffed, treating the prosecutor to a baleful glare. “Will you never let that go?”

“Nay, I will not!” He glared right back. “It took weeks before those feline talon marks on my face healed, you barmy cat lady!”

BANG! BANG!

“Prosecutor Barnham!” The judge looked stern. “As much as it pains me to side with the witness, in this instance, I shall also decree that you must let this bygone be a bygone!”

“Yes, milord. However, the fact remains that Miss Belduke has proven to tend to color and fabricate history as she sees fit! This testimony is no exception! I move to have both it and her, removed from the court, without delay!”

“Nay! I refuse to be dismissed so readily!” Eve protested pleadingly. “I object to this travesty!”

“You have no grounds to object, witness. You are no longer a High Inquisitor of this court,” the judge stated calmly. “Nor are you an attorney in this current trial!”

“She was never an actual attorney during her farcical reign of terror throughout that whole medieval façade!” Barnham interjected snidely. “Unless barbequing alleged witches were considered a legal specialty!”

“Stuff it, Zacharias!”

“At least I went on to legitimately pass the actual bar exam – unlike some people!”

“Milord…” Eve beseechingly turned to the judge. “There is merit to my testimony! Let me speak, I beg you! Mark me, that bloody chit is a killer!”

“Cease your send-up of this witness, Prosecutor Barnham!” The old man commanded firmly. “I shall allow her to make one final statement. But I warn you, Miss Belduke, I will allow for nary false nor speculative testimony! If found guilty of this, you will face perjury charges. Is that clear?”

Eve nodded vigorously, then faced the courtroom.

“I will not compound my follies. If I was wrong about what I saw, so be it! It was dark, so I may have mistaken the shadows and tree branches for something else – also, I had just been rudely awakened from my slumber!” She insisted virtuously. “I did hear two people having a flaming row! And I absolutely did come upon that lass crouched over the body – with the victim’s blood all over her palms! I will swear this on my own life!”

Phoenix’s hand reflexively went to his pocket to clutch his magatama. Unfortunately, no psyche locks materialized. This time, unfortunately for him, Eve was telling the truth.

And damn, was it ever incriminating!

Barnham had to agree.

“The witness’s story correlates with the police report made by arresting officers Chelmey and Barton, who answered Miss Belduke’s call and arrested the suspect,” he acknowledged stiffly. “Indeed, when Miss Cykes was booked, her hands were covered in blood, but she showed no signs of injury, so it was documented that it wasn’t her own.”

“Very well. Thank you, Miss Belduke. If you have no further testimony, you may step down.”

As soon as Eve had exited the courtroom – but not before making a loud, feline hissing sound at Barnham – the judge somberly turned to Athena and Phoenix.

“Sir Blue Knight, have you any further evidence to present?”

Phoenix helplessly shook his head.

“No, milord.”

At the old man’s next words, Athena began swaying slightly on her feet.

“Then I’m afraid, given the incriminating testimony from Miss Belduke, that things don’t look very good for your client. If there is no other supporting evidence or testimony to indicate her innocence in this crime, I have no choice but to call this trial to an end now and have Miss Cykes be formally tried at the Old Bailey for the charge of first-degree murder…”

“No!” Athena visibly paled as her hands flew to her cheeks, terrified tears springing to her eyes. “I’m innocent! I swear! Mr. Wright… Do something!”

“Halt!” Someone shouted from the gallery. “There was another eyewitness in the woods that night, and I am he! Allow me to testify!”

As Phoenix’s hopeful eyes swung in the direction of this promising breakthrough, his shoulders slumped as the source of the voice came forward and he saw who it was.

His newfound optimism immediately dissipated.

That’s my last-minute miracle?

He cast a disbelieving glance to the heavens.

Seriously?!

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

“Truly, intelligence cannot be quantified by a mere number, as it matures and evolves over time. Likewise, happiness in life cannot be acquired instantaneously or through mere formality. Grant yourself the gift of patience and allow things to unfold gradually. There will come a day when you glance back, and this current anguish will be nothing more than a poignant recollection. And eventually, in the not-so-distant future, it will fade into insignificance, existing solely as a memory. Strive towards that moment, steadily progressing towards a brighter future.”

“My Schwester thinks I suffer from soteriophobia – a psychological condition which causes a person to refuse to depend on others out of fear of being disappointed.”

“I think Kat’s right. Not only do you refuse to depend on anyone, but you can’t even believe in the goodness of others! You’ve been like this for as long as I’ve known you, woman! You are so afraid of rejection that you push away anyone who you grow any fondness for.”

Here is a solemn revelation, Maya. When you encounter an individual who prefers solitude, please understand that it is not because they derive pleasure from being alone. Rather, it is often a result of their past attempts to assimilate into society, only to be repeatedly let down by others. They have experienced disappointment and disillusionment, causing them to withdraw and seek solace in their own company.

“Yes,” the German’s intonation resonated with inanition. “It may foster loneliness, yet there is solace in the consistency it brings.”

“You see, the cruel truth is that much of the daggers we endure originate from within ourselves. They are not something we can entirely shield ourselves from. We invest countless hours fortifying our defenses against the external world, but in doing so, we often overlook the harm we can inflict upon our own hearts and souls.”

“The predominant fear lies in the belief that if others truly knew us as intimately as we know ourselves, they might choose to distance themselves entirely. However, Miles… Miles came remarkably close to comprehending the depths of my being even more than I did. It was a remarkable and yet unnerving experience. Allow me to ask you, Maya, how long does it take for someone to truly unravel the intricacies of one’s inner self?”

The psychic thought about Phoenix, whom she’d known for a decade now, but whose soul she’d known for lifetimes before. The man who she would continue to love well into her next one.

“A long time,” she replied knowingly.

“And how long does it take to get over someone who knew you inside out in such a manner? To become fully submerged into blissful oblivescence?”

“Oh,” she sighed, wincing as she recalled the unyielding deep shards, cutting into her guts; the ones which she thought would never abate when she and her lover had been apart. “A lifetime.”

“Well then.” The bereft woman buried her face in her hands. “It becomes incredibly challenging to move on such a  someone when the people around you persist in speaking of them so incessantly.”

“I’m so sorry,” Maya apologized sincerely. “We can change topics if you want. Perhaps we can work on a game plan to help you reconcile with your sister and your niece?”

However, Franziska wasn’t quite ready to let the topic of her former fiancé drop just yet.

“To be honest, that last time Miles and I were together, more than anything in the world, I desperately wanted to ask him if he loved me.”

Her gray eyes were filled with sadness and regret.

“Nonetheless, deep down, I understood that whatever response he offered would never suffice the expectations I held within. It would never prove to be … enough. I have come to realize that not all of life’s inquiries can be answered with a simple “yes” or “no.” Furthermore, there exist matters that love alone cannot remedy.”

There was a momentary pause as the silver-haired beauty attempted to gather her resigned thoughts.

“I believe there are certain experiences that one cannot truly recover from,” she concluded, her voice filled with resignation. “They alter you in profound ways, leaving you shaken to the very core, dislodging every bone within. No matter how much time you devote to piecing yourself back together, you will never be quite the same as you were before.”

“I can’t say if that’s true or not, dear girl. With all my heart, I want to try to be positive for both of us, since you refuse to. Nevertheless, I don’t want to criticize or complain, as you did warn me that this time, I simply wouldn’t have the right words to make things better for you. Perhaps the time has come for me to accept this as the unfortunate truth for now, and just confess my deep ellipsism on your behalf, for I have no idea of how this part of your history will turn out.”

The Master reached over and took her fellow daughter of destiny’s hands into her own. Franziska started slightly at the unexpected tactile contact but didn’t pull away.

“Yet, what I can share with you is my intimate understanding of the sensation that nothing will ever regain its former essence. To be marked by something that appears beyond your influence. To be labeled by numbers, grades, or the presence or absence of validation. However, before I bid farewell, there is one earnest request I must make of you.”

The expressive dark orbs were filled with ruth and benevolence.

“After I leave this room today, promise me that you’ll always remember: You’re braver than you believe and stronger than you seem, and smarter than you think.”

Franziska’s chin trembled slightly, and she found herself clasping back at the gentle fingers wrapped around her own while Maya continued to speak directly from her heart.

“In closing, my cherished friend, I can only express the following heartfelt sentiments: I yearn for your healing. I yearn for the rediscovery of your true self. May you encounter something that ignites a passionate flame within your soul. May you uncover rays of sunlight even amidst your bleakest hours. Please understand that you are destined to overcome the challenges, and you’re going to be OK. This is my wish for you because I love you. You are deserving of boundless happiness. You are deserving of tranquility. You are deserving of the purest laughter. You are deserving of both bestowing and receiving love.  Most importantly, you are deserving of all the joys that life itself has to offer.”

Franziska felt the unprovoked rush of affection course through her as she stared back at her soul sister with misty eyes.

She has shown me that even in the depths of despair, there exists a beacon of hope in the form of kind-hearted individuals who selflessly guide us toward illumination. These exceptional souls resemble candles, willingly sacrificing themselves to provide light for others, even as they gradually diminish.

Maya Fey was one of those people.

A genuine friend sees beyond the flaws and imperfections, choosing instead to focus on the beauty and splendor within your metaphorical garden. I count myself immensely fortunate to have such an extraordinary woman by my side, a treasured confidant who brings immeasurable joy and understanding into my life.

Impulsively, Franziska reached over and wordlessly drew the astonished psychic into a crushing embrace.

Life unfolds as we uncover another soul with whom our connection deepens, revealing greater depth, beauty, and joy as the years pass by. The gradual growth and progression of love between two individuals is a truly remarkable phenomenon, defying the constraints of mere intention or fervent desires. It is akin to a wundervoll divine accident, the most enchanting of all life’s experiences.

“I vow to never forget your words today, Maya Fey,” Franziska promised fiercely, hugging the necromancer with all her might. “I shall eternally hold your words close to my heart. Our time together in Germany, where the seeds of our lifelong bond were first sown, will forever remain unforgettable. The moments we shared, where laughter mingled with tears in a symphony of emotions, were exhilarating, and enlightening, and filled us with uncontainable joy. We reveled in every second, did we not? Even now, in my lowest moments, being in your presence evokes a sense of belonging, like finding solace on my Mama’s bed with a sweet Pfeffernüsse – it feels like home. Being in your comforting presence is inducing a pleasurable sensation of forgetfulness of sorrow or trouble – you are nepenthe for my nerves. You are the balm that heals my wounded heart and the ointment that restores serenity to my weary soul.”

Stepping out of the hold, it was her turn to take the brunette’s hands and allow the American to see the riant, loving gratitude in her previously lachrymose gaze.

“Some girls are born as sisters; others are made into the best of friends. You, meine geliebte Schwester, are both.”

The spirit medium had been entirely unprepared for this sudden turnabout, which simultaneously left her speechless … and incredibly moved.

For someone like Franziska Von Karma confessing guarded secrets of the heart, never mind deep-felt feelings, was unfathomably difficult, yet she had chosen to open herself up to Maya nonetheless. To be held in esteemed reverence by such a guarded and formidable femme was a privilege and honor that she would cherish, along with their treasured friendship, for the rest of her days.

The other woman’s claim of renewed, solidified sisterhood also reminded the spirit medium that she would never risk breaching this trust. She was currently in the know of some very important information that the ex-prosecuting prodigy had every right to be aware of, and nothing would stop her from revealing it. She was completely done with keeping secrets and delaying hidden facts, no matter how good the intentions were behind doing so!

It was bad enough Miles had unfortunately fled the country before she was able to let him know his sister-in-law was in the same city. But the fact that he had even been in Europe, and was now in hot pursuit of the presumably kidnapped Lana Skye, whilst possibly putting himself in harm’s way, was information that his ex had every right to be privy to.

Therefore, now that the whip-wielding anterior prosecutor had unloaded some much-needed weight off her shoulders, the time had come to let her know about some very important truths.

“Franziska, I am so touched you see me as your sister from another mister. Likewise, I assure you! Always know that you have a piece of my heart, and I will always protect yours.”

Maya squeezed her friend’s shoulder, although this time more for courage than commiseration. After all the news she was about to break was hardly light!

“And because I see you as such a close and dear friend, I don’t ever want us to have secrets from one another. I want to always feel like we can tell each other the truth about anything and everything, no matter how crazy or difficult it might be to discover…”

Franziska’s demeanor appeared to shift slightly, her warm expression suddenly growing wary.

“Where is this sudden 180° shift in conversation coming from?” Her hands automatically went to her hips, arms akimbo, assuming her customary domineering posture. “What are you hiding from me, Maya Fey?”

“I wasn’t hiding anything!” The village leader protested, although secretly relieved as she noted, with a quick scan, that Franziska’s whip was nowhere to be seen! “I had every intention of telling you this soon after I got here! It’s just that you had so many other things going on and you seemed like you really needed to vent…”

“Out with it!” All traces of congeniality were now obliterated as the German’s eyes narrowed with suspicion. “What is it you know that I do not? Speak!”

It was definitely “give me strength” time.

The Master made a silent prayer to Mystic Ami before she took a deep breath and blurted out the words.

“Franziska, it’s about Miles…” She faltered then, unsure how to go on.

“What about him?” The annoyance was immediately replaced by visible trepidation, and the Profiler’s hands were now clutching at her own sleeves. “Mein Gott, has something happened to Miles?”

“He’s… well…”

KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!

Maya nearly jumped out of her skin. There was no gentleness to the sudden, hefty banging that resounded at that moment and cut the necromancer off mid-sentence. Even Franziska appeared momentarily startled.

THUD! THUD! THUD!

“Was zur Hölle?” The Wild Mare gritted her teeth, her surprise swiftly giving way to irritation as the series of loud, insistent rapping at the door steadily increased, both in force and frequency, with every passing second. “Who dares to be causing such a commotion at meine Schwester’s door?!”

As both mystified women listened to the booming sound, they realized the knocking wasn’t coming from outside Katharina’s chambers, but from the outer hall of Franziska’s next-door suite.

Maya hastily followed her fuming companion through the adjoining bathroom and back into her own hotel room, noticing the pounding hadn’t ceased for even an instant.

“That sure doesn’t sound like an overly zealous chambermaid,” she noted anxiously. “Whoever could that be?”

“The hotel staff was under strict orders, under threat of being whipped to an inch of their life, not to put through any phone calls until instructed. Nor were they to let anybody know which room I am staying in, without my permission.”

The fiery Frau was already reaching for her trusty leather switch from her night table as she stalked to the door.

“Ergo, this impudent fool best have a penchant for the taste for my whip!”

Shi-Long Lang and Franziska Von Karma
Radisson Blu Portman, London
July 21, 2026

Whipping the door open, Franziska found herself face to face with a very irate Shi-Long Lang.

“Agent Von Karma!” The Interpol head barked, without any preamble. “What stunt are you trying to pull here, terrorizing the hotel staff into not putting through any calls to your room? On top of that, why the hell haven’t you been answering your cell ?”

She cast a fleeting glimpse at her night table, where her whip had been, and caught sight of her unattended mobile resting there beside her purse.

“Perhaps because I knew it was you that was calling!” She returned flippantly, completely unimpressed with the accursed interloper’s surly disposition – not to mention his beyond terrible timing! “Besides, as one of the few who was privileged to know of my whereabouts here in London, you should also have been aware that I am supposed to be on vacation!”

Maya had no desire to witness yet another skirmish involving the Wolf Man.

“Franziska simply forgot to bring her phone when I accosted her in Kat’s room next door. No harm, no foul!”

Sliding discreetly between the two stormy-eyed Interpol Agents, she attempted to cordially greet the unsmiling Lang.

“Greetings and salutations, Agent Lang! Long time no see! At least an hour and change, right?”

“Maya.” He nodded curtly in greeting. “Sorry to interrupt your visit, but you’ll have to excuse us. I have urgent matters to discuss with Agent Von Karma. Urgent … Confidential matters.”

“Sure, no problem.” The obedient diviner was already inching towards the door. “Nice to see you again, by the way! Er, your jaw looks much better now … did Nick get you some ice for that bruise?”

The man’s nostrils flared, obviously not pleased with the reminding of his assaulted jowl, although it was her friend’s next words that stopped the Master in her tracks.

“Maya, you are not going anywhere,” Franziska commanded coolly. “Not until you tell me that bit of important information you were about to relay!”

She arched a laconic eyebrow at her superior.

“Agent Lang, anything you have to say to me, you can say in front of her. I can personally vouch for Maya Fey. She is wholly trustworthy, as she is practically family. Scratch that … She is family.”

“That’s very touching,” he frowned, obviously not expecting another one of his subordinates to be dismissing his authority so waspishly. “Nevertheless, she still doesn’t have a security clearance! And this is a most sensitive matter!”

“That is of no consequence to me!” Franziska snapped back. “You have stalked me on my vacation and interrupted our long overdue reunion – not to mention our own, very important causerie! Ergo, this had best be worth it!”

“I can see that you’re doing your best to irritate me with your brusquerie manner.” Lang scowled. “But fine, have it your way! The matter I’m here about is Agent Skye.”

“Lana?” She bristled slightly at the mention of her rival. “What about her?”

“Agent Lana Skye is … missing.” Not a hint of emotion from the Agent – he was pure cut-and-dry facts. “We believe she’s been kidnapped.”

“Kidnapped?” Franziska gasped. “What about her partner?”

Lang was strangely silent.

“You know, the local agent assigned to her?” Her voice mounted in agitation. “The one from Northern Europe who spoke the language and knew the people? The one that policy dictates we must have?!”

She glared at the still taciturn man, her pitch rising ever higher.

“Was this operation even sanctioned? How long ago was Lana abducted?”

“We think it’s been a few days now, but it’s impossible to tell at this point.” Lang conspicuously avoided answering the first question. “She was last spotted in Romania but we are unable to locate her via cell phone or her tracking chip. We are cautiously optimistic that we will be able to find her, but…”

Franziska was more shaken by the news than she’d ever thought she would have been. As much as she’d resented and despised Miles’s ex-lover, she’d also never truly wished anything terrible to happen to her! Plus, Lana was the only sibling of Ema Skye, whom the German liked very much.

“This is a case of Der Fisch stinkt vom Kopf her! How could you let this happen, you foolish fool? And why was I not told sooner?”

“It was on a need-to-know basis, and I determined that you didn’t need to know at the time! Colorful history with Agent Skye notwithstanding, your personal feelings for her are hardly a secret, and may have clouded your judgment.”

“You…You… Armleuchter!” Franziska’s eyes were glinting with rage. “How dare you withhold such pertinent information from a fellow Field Agent?!”

“Ex-Field Agent,” he corrected coldly. “You’re not in the field anymore, Frau Profiler. You got promoted, remember?”

The Profiler’s fingers reflexively tightened around her whip, causing Maya to nervously put a restraining hand on the tempestuous dame’s arm.

“Down, girl!”

Franziska shrugged her off and eyed Lang stonily.

“Then why tell me at all?” She demanded harshly. “If such is your attitude about me, coupled with your perceived notion about my alleged unprofessionalism, what zur Hölle are you doing here – besides getting on my last nerve?”

“Curb the attitude, sis!” There was a steely glint in his eye. “I’m here due to circumstances pertaining to one, Miles Edgeworth.”

“What about him?” Franziska gritted her teeth to mask her growing fear, belatedly realizing that Maya had been about to give her information about her former betrothed, as well. “What has happened to Miles?!”

“Your man is a loose cannon!” Lang growled. “He’s taken off and gone rogue!”

She froze, a feeling of dread creeping over her.

“Taken off? When? Where?”

“Since earlier this morning when he found out the news. He was last spotted in Borginia.”

“What in blazes is Miles Edgeworth doing on the Continent?!” Franziska’s tone was rapidly reaching a fevered pitch. “He was the American land asset … Lana was the European one!”

“He was here in London when I told him the news a couple of hours ago… then he took off in hot pursuit of Agent Skye,” Lang muttered darkly. “Against my direct orders, might I add!”

The firecracker was nearly frothing at the mouth now; she was so enraged.

“Fickfehler!” She swore at the Wolf Man, clutching her whip so hard, her knuckles were white. “You foolishly went to Miles with the news about Lana, instead of me, an experienced and armed Field Agent – and now he’s running around on a solo rescue mission – with zero field support?! Aside from the glaring fact that Miles is no trained Agent – he is also presumably unarmed! Your gross negligence and unequivocal incompetence are downright inexcusable, you bloody Arsch Mit Ohren!”

“Can we cool it with the gratuitous German insults already?” Lang bared his fangs. “I’ve had it up to my neck with noncompliance today, and I have taken all the guff from you that I’m going to take, Agent Von Karma!”

“You will take all my damn guff and you will like it!” She shouted back, now almost nose to nose with her boss. “If anything happens to Miles … so help me Gott…”

Lang was completely unaffected by being in such proximity to an outraged female.

“Can the histrionics! I only came by to tell you about this as a professional courtesy, since I knew you were in London, en route to headquarters, where I’m to coordinate with our other local assets here.”

His tone was now dismissively aloof.

“You are to stay put, and be my contact here in England in case we need to mobilize more resources for when I head out to Borginia.”

“How can you remain here in London for another second, while you have not one but two missing Interpol assets?” Franziska was ready to explode. “Why are you not going after Miles first?”

“My top priority is doing everything in my power to locate Agent Skye right now,” Lang gnashed his teeth. “Pretty Boy went off on his own, against orders, with zero respect for my authority, so he’s hardly at the top of my list!”

“I am through with your nonsensical kyoodle!” Franziska stamped her foot. “If you choose to do nothing and be stagnant, like the Schlappschwanz you are, then so be it!”

Spinning on her heel, she stormed over to her night table, grabbed her mobile and purse, swiftly determined her handgun was tucked away in there, and threw the strap over her shoulder. Stomping back to Lang, who was still blocking the doorway, she then attempted to shove past him.

“Forget you! I will be the one to go after Miles, before that foolish fool gets in too far over his head – and gets himself killed! Now get out of my way, Wolf Man!”

“Pray tell, where exactly do you think you’re going, you little hellion? I will not let you defy me like this! Not this time!”

Looming forebodingly over her while continuing to obstruct the doorway, he clamped a heavy hand down, in what looked like a no-nonsense vice grip, on Franziska’s arm.

As Lang whirled her around so his back was now to the room, Maya cringed as she saw the sparks shooting out from the eyes of the tigress at the unwarranted manhandling.

Yikes! That was an über bad move, Wolf Man!

“You absolutely cannot and will not take this case!” He snarled. You’re too close to it, and I know what you get like when you get emotional!”

“Get your paws off me this instant!” The frumious Franziska struggled against him with all her might.

“I will not! I am your superior and you are staying put! That is a direct order! I am sick of all this insubordination! If you disobey me – you’re fired!”

“Die Nase voll haben!” She shrieked. “I refuse to stand idly by while you vengefully let Miles’s life be in jeopardy due to your overly inflated ego getting slightly wounded!”

“Didn’t you hear me, Wild Mare? I forbid you to take this case!” He bellowed, refusing to relinquish his grip and trying to pull her back into the room. “What’s with the sudden hysterical interest in Miles again, anyway? I’ve been covering your ass and concealing your whereabouts for over a year now, all because you decided to take off like a thief in the night when you dumped that man like yesterday’s news…”

Despite being much smaller than her boss, Franziska had the advantageous surge of adrenaline, born from anger and fear for Miles’s safety on her side, coupled with legitimate concern for Lana, who in spite of everything, she’d never genuinely wished harm upon. The toiling emotions made the riled-up femme spring up like a viper poised to strike – resulting in the next series of events occurring in rapid-fire succession.

Without warning, the Profiler’s balled fist collided sharply with her senior’s already injured jawbone in the form of a mighty uppercut, flaying Shi-Long Lang’s neck upward, then back, like a willow caught in the wind.

The sheer momentum and powerful force of the unexpected blow resulted in the unsuspecting Agent flying backward at full-throttle velocity – for the second time that morning!

The Burger Queen, once again, neatly stepped out of harm’s way the instant before Lang’s impromptu airborne flight came hurtling to its inexorable crash landing.

This time, though, the Wolf Man’s heavy thud resulted in him landing not rump on the floor, but slamming headfirst against a very heavy wooden footboard.

THWACK!

There was a horrendous cracking sound as Lang’s skull met the ornate mahogany panel.

Then the world went completely black.

“Oh, Holy Mother!” The spirit medium gasped, clapping a hand to her mouth. “Are you all right?”

Seemingly unfazed by what she’d done, the Whip Lady peered down at the supine Agent, then at her tender hand while rubbing her now-tingling knockout arm with the other one.

“I – I am not sure. I have only used my whip in the past, so I have never actually punched anyone before. Thence, I am incredibly surprised at the pain that is now blazing up my arm from my fist connecting with that Dummkopf’s jaw.”

“Not you!” Maya was already sinking to her knees beside the insentient man. Checking his neck for a pulse, she expelled a huge sigh upon finding one, however faint. “I was talking to the Wolf Man, Meine Dame Tyson!”

The assailant pursed her lips to keep from snickering at the title.

“I saw you checked his pulse. Is he alive?” She asked disinterestedly, not even remotely repentant.

“Well, for a second there, I was worried you might have killed him with that sucker punch! I can’t tell if it was your particular brand of KA-POW – if it was the subsequent bump to the noggin from ramming the bedpost as the icing on the cake that made him go nighty-night!”

Maya was struggling not to laugh.

“But his jaw may as well be made of glass at this point, seeing as you somehow managed to give him a right hook in the exact spot that Miles did – only a few hours ago!”

“Great minds think alike, I suppose.” Franziska shrugged nonchalantly, unwilling to admit her secret relief that she hadn’t caused more serious damage, and was already rummaging into her pocketbook for her cell. “Despite everything, mayhap my former fiancé and I are more in sync than I realized. I would bet my bottom dollar that if the irenic Miles Edgeworth struck this foolish fool, he surely had it coming!”

“No doubt!” Maya giggled slightly, not even bothering to hide her amusement anymore at the lunacy of the situation, now that she’d ascertained Lang wasn’t in any vital danger. “Although given the choice, I’d still take Miles over your badass self in a physical combat match, any day! He only managed to knock a trained Interpol Agent onto his arse! You, on the other hand, literally knocked him out!”

“It appears that this past year of being an ineluctable nursemaid to an ornery, retired detective has paid off in spades.” Franziska smugly tossed back her hair. “It is a great fillip for the old man to carry on about the glory of his ‘tough cop’ days back on the force. He has even insisted on physically demonstrating some of his trained fighting moves, ignoring my attempts to dismiss his reminiscence as foolish nugacities!”

“Detective Badd would be ebullient if he ever discovered you were actually paying more attention to his combat demonstrations than you let on!”

“I am positive the news about my latest act of disobedience will more than likely make its way through the corporate grapevine – as it will coincide with my pending termination.” Lady von Whippingberg treated the psychic to a fleeting smile. “I need to cut things short now, my friend. Am I correct in assuming the news relayed to me by the Wolf Man about Miles was identical to what you were about to tell me, earlier?”

Maya nodded.

“Then I am now off to attempt the rescue of a certain meandering Prosecutor. I promise to be in touch. Surely you can see yourself out with no problems.”

A final fleeting glance at the motionless Lang.

“Do throw a blanket over that foolish marplot before you leave. It would help contain the fetid reeks of spilled Chinese food in a birdcage that he calls cologne and prevent it from permeating the entire room! The fool evidently bathes in it! Auf Wiedersehen, Maya Fey!”

Then she was gone, the phone already clapped to her ear as she sprinted down the hallway.

The last words heard before the room thudded shut behind the Frau’s retreating form were:

“I could not care less that you and the old man were under direct orders not to tell me, Kay Faraday! I should whip your foolish behind for such a betrayal – and I still might! I am on my way to Borginia right now – so get me immediate airport clearance and on the next flight out from Heathrow, post-haste!”

The necromancer was grinning to herself, despite the urgency of the situation. Miles and Lana were in good hands now that Franziska Von Karma was on the case. She was positively certain of that fact.

Now to get to the other task at hand.

Tittering softly to herself, the Master grabbed the duvet cover off the bed and dropped it over the dead-to-the-world Agent, noticing how childlike and non-threatening he looked when inert and in deeply subdued slumber.

“You know, I’ve decided you don’t look as much like Wolverine anymore – cuz he would never get knocked out by a girl! Anyhoo, I guess I’m off to join the gang at Hyde Park to personally see the results of my instigated Operation Love Match!”

As she put the “Do Not Disturb” sign on the handle, Maya blew the out-like-a-light man a farewell kiss before pulling the door shut behind her.

“Sweet dreams, Agent Lang!”

Kay Faraday and Tyrell Badd
Interpol Headquarters, Borginia
July 21, 2026

“Agent Lang still isn’t answering his phone, Uncle Badd!” Kay called out from down the hall. “Also, there’s a seething passenger out there in London who’d be cursing my name if he knew it! I had no choice but to kick off a random traveler from the last FlyBe flight to secure Agent Von Karma’s trip out here! That meant I had to go ahead and use Agent Lang’s credentials as I did for your last-minute trek here. I had to assume authorization right now though since the Wolf Man isn’t picking up!”

No response from the detective in the back.

“In the end, it doesn’t even matter. Interpol Save The Day Operation trumps all, am I right?”

Still no reply.

Frowning, the Yatagarasu got up from her computer and belatedly realized, as she neared the closed door of the back room, that the blaring music emanating from it meant there was no way Tyrell Badd, one functioning ear notwithstanding, had heard anything she’d been hollering back to him for the last few minutes!

The heat is on, on the street
Inside your head, on every beat
And the beat’s so loud, deep inside
The pressure’s high, just to stay alive
‘Cause the heat is on

As she opened the door to the weapons room, Kay was simultaneously greeted with several things at once: an impressive smorgasbord of weaponry as far as the eye could see, the soundtrack from Beverly Hills Cop, Badd’s favorite movie, and her adopted uncle facing this massive collection of killing machines in thoughtful contemplation, still unaware of her presence.

Oh-wo-ho, oh-wo-ho
Caught up in the action I’ve been looking out for you
Oh-wo-ho, oh-wo-ho
(Tell me can you feel it)
(Tell me can you feel it)
(Tell me can you feel it)
The heat is on (yeah) the heat is on, the heat is on
(Burning, burning, burning)
It’s on the street, the heat is on

Lost in his own world, Badd contemplated what to take in his limited travel pack of weapon essentials.

Throwing knives. Grenades. Flashbangs. A vast assortment of fully-automatic, semi-automatic, and bolt action rifles, in every possible make and model imaginable, including the ones no longer in production that he kept, but would never use, strictly for sentimental purposes, of course.

Oh-wo-ho, oh-wo-ho
Caught up in the action I’ve been looking out for you
Oh-wo-ho, oh-wo-ho
(Tell me can you feel it)
(Tell me can you feel it)
(Tell me can you feel it)
The heat is on, the heat is on, the heat is on
Oh it’s on the street, the heat is on

Dilemma, dilemma.

“Eeny, meeny, minie, moe,” Badd mumbled to himself as he fastened his bulletproof vest while examining the gun collection. “Which beaut shall stay, and which shall go, with me to the rescue show? Be it Delilah, or good ol’ Flo?”

The shadows high on the darker side
Behind the doors, it’s a wilder ride
You can make a break, you can win or lose
That’s a chance you take, when the heat’s on you
When the heat is on

Fuck it. Why not both?

His mouth was set in a grim line as he holstered the first gun, Clint Eastwood, which was a German-built 10mm Glock Automatic. He made sure it was loaded and slipped it into the waistband of his trousers, under his shirt.

Oh-wo-ho, oh-wo-ho
Caught up in the action I’ve been looking out for you
Oh-wo-ho, oh-wo-ho
(Tell me can you feel it)
(Tell me can you feel it)
(Tell me can you feel it)
The heat is on (yeah) the heat is on, the heat is on
It’s on the street, the heat is on (I can feel the fire)

He focused his attention on the next gun that he was holding, a self-loading Ruger Point 22 model K10/22PPF. It was a low-velocity weapon, less deadly than some he might have chosen. But the gun had two huge advantages. It was light. And it was very compact. He’d had it customized to suit his needs. By removing just two screws he had been able to separate the barrel and the trigger mechanism from the stock. The stock itself folded in two, allowing him to carry the whole thing across Europe in an ordinary sports bag. He could square his eye against the Leupold 14x50mm Side Focus scope and adjust the crosshairs against the door through which the boy would pass. He loved the feel of the gun in his hands, the snug fit, and the perfect balance.

The heat is on (flames are burning higher)
The heat is on (baby can’t you feel it)
Yeah, it’s on the street
The heat is on (I can feel it the fire)
The heat is on (flames are burning higher)

“Good ol’ Atomic Annie. She’s a keeper.”

“Yeah, she’s a beaut, all right. Ya can’t go wrong, so long as you go with the ‘Flo’!” Kay guffawed, finally making her existence known. “Look at you, going all gangbusters with your stash of guns! The only thing missing now is your trademarked wraparound headband … Rambo!”

Badd chuckled as he turned around, all the while dexterously spinning two pistols on each of his trigger fingers. They were identical KAhr P9 double-action semi-automatics. Each was six inches long – with stainless steel and polymer construction – and weighed just 25 ounces each manufactured in America, it was one of the smallest, lightest pistols in the world.

“Pretty impressive gunslinger skills you’ve got there, Uncle Badd.” Kay’s grin was unabashedly deferential as he gave each piece an expertly synchronized whirl, made a melodramatic show of blowing onto each, and then simultaneously tucked both of them into his holster. “John Wayne and the rest of Wild, Wild West would have been proud!”

“Any comparison to The Duke is the highest form of praise.” He cracked a half smile for only a split-second, then beckoned her over with his typical epigrammatic manner. “Now can it with the quips, you little wise-ass, and take this. No way am I letting you go into this shit-storm this unarmed.”

Badd passed Kay a Belgian-made FN semi-automatic pistol. She weighed it in her hand, trying to find the balance between herself and her bestowed weapon. He explained this was essential to the technique which he called “instinctive firing.”

“You’re getting Old Faithful, kiddo. Trusty Ronnie Raygun. I’m not saying this scenario will necessarily warrant a ‘shoot first, ask questions later’,” he explained gruffly. “But I wouldn’t rule it out, either. ‘Better safe than sorry’ has always been my motto.”

“Thanks, Uncle Badd. I’m not sure how much, if anything, you heard me calling out to you from out front, but there’s been a slight alteration in our game plan. However, considering we have another ally joining forces with us in the rescue mission now, I’m pretty sure you’ll have no objections to the changes!”

Badd cocked an inquisitive brow.

“Rather than us taking a car ride to the airport to get the company helicopter, Agent Von Karma will be landing here in Borginia shortly and she’s going to have the pilot bring the chopper here. Then the three of us are going to travel the friendly skies to retrieve Mr. Edgeworth…while keeping our fingers crossed that our hunch is correct about how wherever he’s ended up, Agent Skye will be with him.”

Hopefully…Alive.

Kay knew they were both thinking along the same lines, but neither dared voice their deepest fear out loud.

“So, the Wild Mare is on the move, and has officially taken the saddle and reins of this operation, has she?” Badd chuckled appreciatively. “I’m going to go out on a limb and assume there is a direct correlation between this latest development and Agent Lang probably relaying the news to her about Miles. You’re right – no opposition whatsoever to having that hellcat on our side – hold it!”

“Hmmm? What’s up?” Kay attempted to smile innocently but didn’t even bother trying to hide the blinking cell which she’d been discreetly holding at waist level since entering the room.

“What are you doing with your phone?” Badd gawked at her. “Have you been filming me this whole time?”

“Have I been capturing my Uncle Badass getting in gear for the most epic bust in Interpol history, set to a classic 80’s cop soundtrack? You better believe it!” Kay held up the camera to zoom in on her Uncle’s stupefied kisser. “Ultimate lock n’ load montage!”

Badd bit back an amused grin, then made a big show of grabbing his beloved Auto Assault-12 shotgun off the armory wall and assuming the iconic Sylvester Stallone pose from the Rambo film, much to his niece’s merriment.

Their playful moment was brought to an abrupt halt as her phone rang just then, and she hurriedly answered it without checking the caller ID, assuming it was Lang, finally returning her calls.

She was wrong.

Her bright green eyes were wide with stupefaction as she intently listened to the caller, barely getting a word in edgewise, for what seemed to be a total of the 30-second conversation, which was then swiftly terminated almost as soon as it’d begun.

Kay’s jaw was still open as she addressed her Uncle, the phone still clamped to her ear.

“Everything OK, kiddo? Who was that?”

“You not going to believe this, but that was Agent Von Karma! She’s already arrived in Borginia!”

“That was fast. Thus, she’s already at the airport then and headed to the chopper?”

“She was already in the helicopter! Moreover, she commanded that I’d better get my Arsch in gear and tell you to do the same because she and the pilot are less than 10 minutes away from HQ!” Her voice was filled with awe. “That woman is beyond incredible!”

“She’s something else, all right,” he agreed, then noticed that Kay had snapped out of her veneration state and was now smothering back a derisive snort. “What’s so funny?”

“Agent Von Karma also had a very special message to relay to you, Uncle Badd!” The ninja’s words were muffled behind her gloved hand in vain attempts to mask her sniggering. “She very loftily informed me that the reason we’re doing things this way is that even with all our strings and connections, it’d be nigh impossible to speed you through security clearance since she knew you’d be packing more heat than a Schwarzenegger and Stallone film combined!”

Badd, who was still holding the shotgun which was identical to the one handled by Terry Crews in The Expendables movie, looked down at his annihilative ensemble of strapped weapons and shrugged.

“The pushy dame is hardly wrong!”

“Furthermore,” the Agent couldn’t contain her laughter for another moment. “I am to advise ‘that old fool’ to choose his armor wisely because there’s still a weight limit on the helicopter!”

He took one last gander down at the imposing weapon in his hands, wondering if he should bring it along for good measure, but ultimately vetoed it.

A fully automatic weapon that could fire 32, 12-Gauge shells in rapid succession might constitute overkill – not to mention be potentially messy! – For a planned rescue mission, even for an experienced gunman like himself!

I’ll take the Colt AR-15 instead. Gertrude’s a semi-auto that still allows some great stopping power, precision, and an effective range up to 550 meters away!

“Since it’s a fast trip, I may as well add these to the arsenal,” the detective decided and hung a couple of flashbangs onto his vest for good measure. “Never know when these babies will come in handy!”

He followed Kay out to the front and saw that her computer screen was now flashing, and she raced towards it, an excited gleam in her eye.

“Ziggety-Damn!” She gleefully punched the air. “Mr. Edgeworth’s backup tracker finally kicked in! I know exactly where he is now, and what direction he’s heading! His current whereabouts can’t be more than 30 minutes away by chopper!”

“Back up tracker?” The burly man echoed in confusion. “What backup tracker? Miles isn’t an Agent, so he doesn’t have a subdermal tracker like Lana.”

Neither of them wanted to mention the increasingly bleak fact that in spite of having a body-heat-powered, under-the-skin tracker, Lana’s chip had stopped transmitting some time ago.

“Nope! I hid one on him a looong time ago – he doesn’t even know about it!” She boasted. “But to save battery power, the device only checks in periodically. It’s not as sophisticated or high-tech as the Interpol gadgets, more along the lines of a LoJack variety, but hey, a girl’s gotta use what’s available!”

She gave a proud trademarked flick of her nose.

“Whoooooop!”

“Kay…” Badd attempted to give her his best warning gaze, even though the pride in his tone was evident. “I’ll spare you the lecture on boundaries and privacy violations here and instead inquire: who else have you secretly hidden these apparatuses on?”

Kay smiled winsomely, then began idly whistling the tune from “The Pink Panther.”

Note to self, thought Badd wryly. Do a complete body and cavity search of self when the smoke clears on all this – I don’t even want to know how she could have managed the latter without my knowledge, but what can I expect from Byrne Faraday’s daughter/my adopted niece? She calls herself the Great Thief for good reason! The kid’s learned from the best!

“Fine, I’ll drop that one for now. But precisely where is the tracker you put on Miles?”

“A girl’s gotta have some secrets, Uncle Badd!” She winked conspiratorially. “All I can say is it’s someplace you wouldn’t guess in a million years, nor even a logical genius like Miles Edgeworth!”

Phoenix Wright and Athena Cykes
Special Court, Labyrinthia Town Square
July 21, 2026

Miles Edgeworth, I wish you were here right now.

The frazzled Phoenix barely resisted the urge to let out a disgruntled groan as the old man with the full body-length beard reminiscent of Albus Dumbledore took the witness stand.

I sure could use your Anglophile, lardy-dardy presence right about now! You love using going off on long-winded, overly wordy tangents and passing them off as everyday sentences! You’re a shameless sesquipedalian! And I’ve just been presented with their leader!

“Wordsmith,” the ex-attorney attempted to smile at the geriatric philosopher enthusiast. “So… You’re my surprise witness, are you?”

The old man turned his palms up, a faraway look in his faded eyes as his voice took on a dreamlike quality.

“Indeed, Sir Blue Knight. I have been dubbed a “witness”; thus, I must have witnessed something … Do you see?”

The defense sighed gloomily.

And here we go! I’m going to be here until Trucy has grandchildren…

Barnham thumped his fist on the bench, obviously too wound up from the last witness to even try to be anything but succinct.

“Witness, we have no time for mindless jawing. Simply state your name and occupation for the record.”

“I am Wordsmith. Formerly known as Labyrinthia’s head philosopher, and now the town’s most esteemed fanfiction writer. For you see, I pen stories of the real world, for the reason that to me, the real world is fiction, and I am but a humble servant to the beauty of the English language, floating about my everyday existence like flower petals in a lily pond….”

“Obviously, the pay is total pants!” Espella whispered to the dumbfounded Phoenix and Athena. “He mostly makes his living by sitting in the middle of Town Square and yammering on incessantly to everyone passing by. People legitimately pay him to stop talking!”

“I am surviving with my own devices as a one-man publishing operation. I have recently lost my literary co-author, who originally suggested we’d make squillions if we partnered up and wrote a series about idiot philosophy. Sadly, they did not sell well. He’s now resumed his former title as town drunkard. Or village idiot, as it were…”

“Shut your mush!” Barnham burst out wrathfully, then immediately gave his head a shake and shut his eyes while drawing in a deep breath. “Forgive me, witness, milord. What I meant to say was, thank you, we’ve heard enough about your occupation for the records. Now then, do you state that this testimony will consist of nothing but the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth?”

“But the truth is such a relative term, gentleman and ladies of the court,” Wordsmith mused, stroking his beard. “What really is the truth? Man has been searching for the truth for thousands of years…”

“Aye, but we are hoping to find it this afternoon.” The judge was obviously as fed up as everyone else with the senior’s incessant rambling. “After all, I have scheduled my evening tea break for 6 o’clock, sharp! Let’s carry on now, shall we?”

Bless you, milord! Phoenix nearly sagged on the bench in relief.

“Defense, you may question the witness.”

“Wordsmith, can you please tell us what you witnessed in Eldwitch Woods on the night of July 20?”

“Bear with me, I need to get my spectacles.”

Wordsmith fumbled through his satchel and retrieved a pair of wire-rim glasses, which he perched on the end of his nose, then spent another few moments rifling through his bag. He finally pulled out what looked like a scroll of paper and squinted at the handwriting on it.

“Ahem. Last night in the woods, I heard a lad and a lass bickering amongst themselves. Not wanting to intrude on what I thought was a lover’s quarrel…”

“Gross!” Piped up Widget, luckily unheard this time.

“…I quickly hid behind some shrubs so I would not be seen. The next thing I knew, the bloke went sailing through the air, into what sounded like a pile of leaves and twigs. The girl stood frozen for several seconds after this happened, as though in shock. However, before she approached the tumbled victim a few moments later, I heard rustling from the area behind the bushes, where he had fallen. This would indicate that before she reached him, the victim was still alive. Hmmm… How does this help the case at all? It seems to be implying the lad was still alive until she approached him. Did I read that right? I feel as lost as a prostitute without a street corner…”

Wordsmith scratched at his small, pointy cap atop his peak-shaped head.

“Erm, please allow me a moment to take another shufti at this statement so that I may best paraphrase…”

“Paraphrase?” Phoenix repeated blankly. “But why do you need to read your statement off of that paper instead of just telling us what happened in your own words?”

A feeling of unease began creeping over him.

“Wordsmith…” He began warily. “These are your own words, aren’t they? You were present in the woods to see what happened, were you not?”

“Well, I did notate all of this into my own words, as they were told to me by the other party who unfortunately couldn’t be here right now,” the witness proclaimed, without a hint of irony. “So indubitably they are my own words indeed, Sir Blue Knight.”

“Do you mean to say that all of this testimony is purely hearsay?” Barnham appeared ready to explode. “Because what you’re indicating is that you were not actually the one to witness the events from last night – therefore everything you just said on the witness stand is entirely inadmissible!”

“Is this true?” Phoenix asked weakly, feeling the small glimmer of hope he’d momentarily been feeling be obliterated to smithereens. “You aren’t actually present to witness the crime? Then who was? And why aren’t they here?”

“He’s indisposed right now, I’m afraid,” Wordsmith explained graciously. “The reason I’m here in the stead of the actual witness is that I simply couldn’t knock him up this morning from his bed! Poor bugger got a bit too narked last night, and is now suffering from what Americans refer to as a hangover…

“But it’s afternoon now!” Phoenix felt himself beginning to sweat drop. “How much could one man possibly drink?! And to the point where past midday, he still isn’t able to get himself out of bed?!”

“Sod’s law! But that’s neither here nor there, Sir Blue Knight, although if the party in question is who believe it to be, the answer is… The British Navy has sailors who couldn’t hold a candle to him,” Barnham replied dryly. “Witness you are excused. This has been nothing but a waste of the court’s time, and we’re right back to where we started.”

“Indeed.” The judge raised his gavel. “Since that last testimony was completely useless, I shall now go back to my original decree – to have Miss Cykes sent to London to be tried at the Old Bailey…”

“Siiiiiiiiirrr!”

The impromptu, high-pitched screech reverberated through the room, making everyone cringe, and prompting poor Athena, with her sensitive hearing, to clap her hands over her own ringing ears.

“Who was that?” The judge demanded, poking his finger in and out of his ear, as though testing his own hearing after such an assault to the eardrums. “Who goes there?!”

“That was me, milord!” Huffed Lettie Mailer, the town’s shrilly-pitched mail carrier. “I’m here to relay this message on behalf of Knightle. He’s on his way right now, and he insists that it’s very important!”

The plump courier had to pause to catch her breath, as she’d run the whole way.

“I got here as fast as I could, as I was tasked with letting you know that you must hold off on passing judgment, I beg of you! He has crucial information pertaining to this trial!”

Phoenix was baffled, but at the same time, all in favor of stalling for as long as he could!

“Milord, if this can help shed further light on this case, I have no objections to this request…” he began, just as the breathless Knightle himself entered the courtroom at that moment, collapsing in a wheezing heap beside Barnham at the prosecutor’s bench.

“Forgive me for the disruption, milord,” the short man gasped raggedly. “But I rushed here straight from the hospital where, by the way, my wife Kira just gave birth to our first child! It’s a boy!”

There was some scattered applause at the news but it was mostly met by confused, anticipating silence, as though the gallery were waiting for the other shoe to drop.

“We named him Jack Barrow!” Knightle added proudly, unaware of the dubious stares he was now getting in abundance, especially from the barrister beside him.

“Knightle, you flowery twat!” Barnham snapped peevishly. “I don’t even know what the bigger offense here is – the fact that you interrupted my trial just to let us know about your new fatherhood status, or that you named your child Jack Barrow!”

“What’s wrong with his name?” Knightle asked defensively. “Kira’s maiden name was Barrow, so we made that his middle name! Jack Barrow Knightle!”

“Congratulations, Mr. Knightle, but what’s in a name is not the issue at hand! Was this the important information that warranted you halting the trial?” The judge demanded. “Because I could easily hold you in contempt of court for this misdemeanor!”

“Nay, milord!” Knightley cried. “I am here because I bring forth another witness! However, I daresay, with all due respect to Sir Blue Knight, that this is a most decidedly … hostile witness.”

A hostile witness? Phoenix instinctively felt a knot of dread forming in his gut. I don’t like the sound of that…

“A hostile witness, you say?” Barnham frowned in confusion. “This is the first I’m hearing of this! Are you bringing forth the mysterious bystander whom Wordsmith was speaking of earlier?”

“Nay, it’s somebody different. The witness is presently out in the corridors, waiting to be summoned.”

The undersized ex-knight had to stand on his tiptoes to whisper the details into the ear of the prosecutor, whose face registered pure shock as he heard the name.

Still visibly flabbergasted, Barnham then straightened up to address the courtroom.

Expelling a deep breath, the ex-Inquisitor stared straight at the disbarred attorney, and then Athena, with decided sympathy, before proceeding to make the ground-breaking announcement.

“The prosecution would now like to call its next witness to the stand… Mr. Wayland Payne.”

Miles Edgeworth
Location:?
Date/Time:?

I could wail in pain right now. Ngh…My head…

Voices. Piercing ones. Reverberating against his pounding skull.

“Miles Edgeworth, rise and shine! It’s the end of the line.”

Where am I?

The prosecutor’s head throbbed as his auditory senses were hijacked, continuing to be bombarded by an ear-splitting static.

He was only dimly aware of the loud, nasally voice and rancid breath blasting in his face.

“Wake up, Sleeping Beauty! You’ve reached your final destination!”

Is he referring to me? Whatever does that mean?

The groggy man’s head felt like it was stuffed with marshmallows, and his limbs felt as though they were comprised of lead.

“Arachnis, gimme a hand here. He’s not budging.”

A heavy slap to the face. Then another, across the other cheek. Full, open-palmed slaps, multiple times.

He barely felt a thing.

The sharp blows should have stung, but only resulted in a dull throb, and had no effect in making his eyes want to stay open. They kept drifting closed, even though two sets of hands were now roughly shaking him, trying to force his prostrate form into a seated position.

“So sleepy,” he mumbled, even as he was aggressively yanked from what appeared to be a large vehicle and forced to his feet. “Why so sleepy?”

His tongue felt like the Sahara and it was as though weights were attached to his lids. Why was he so drowsy?

A large set of hands held him up under the arms, as his legs kept sagging, and his bleary gaze gradually focused on a small, slightly-built man in a fedora standing in front of him. The stranger’s sallow skin clung to his skull like a wet rag to a rail. Baring unevenly yellowed teeth, where the front one was visibly missing, he fixated his hard, unblinking eyes on the lawyer, leaning in close, so the chess enthusiast succumbed to the torrid aroma of stale cigarettes and sweat.

“Didn’t mean to knock you out for so long,” he sneered. “But naptime is over. Move it!”

His legs felt like cooked spaghetti. For the life of him, Miles couldn’t seem to make them cooperate.

“Get. Inside. NOW!” Ordered the figure that was now holding him up, in a voice that was barely more human than a growl.

With a start, Miles’s head jerked upwards, and made out the vaguely recognizable mug of the mountain-sized gorilla, with no hair or neck to speak of, whose oven-mitt-sized meat hooks were digging into his shoulders.

It was the same man who’d accosted him at the airport.

…The airport! The large mammoth approaching me, posing as a limo driver….

The noxious, unwashed stench of the two men, along with the waft of fresh air from finally being outside again, swept away some of the fuzziness in his brain.

It was all coming back to him now.

I remember being shoved into a limousine, then seeing the actual driver passed out in the back seat…

“The driver!” Miles swiveled his head towards the open rear car door and saw it was empty. “Where is the other man that was in the car with me?”

A wave of fear began creeping over him, even through the foggy haze of his brain.

“What have you done with him?!”

“He proved to be more resistant to going nighty-night and staying nighty-night than you were. Poor mook had to go and wake up mid-route,” the spindly man informed him callously. “Arsen and me – we don’t like having any witnesses or loose ends, so we had to delay our little field trip. To make sure he didn’t talk. Ever. To anyone.”

He jutted his bony chin at the trunk of the car, which the larger man popped open with a sadistic grin, and pulled out a metal shovel, heavily caked with mud… and what looked like blood.

His blood ran cold as the true dreadfulness of the situation dawned on him.

The limo driver was dead.

It wasn’t enough that these fiends had drugged that poor man and stolen his limo.

They killed him.

His mind spun.

And I may be next. But why? Who are they? What do they want from me?

He didn’t get a chance to gather any more thoughts, because the next thing he knew, the enormous man, Arsen, was shoving him from behind, towards a large building made of corrugated steel, while the smaller man, Arachnis, kept a tight grip on Miles’s arm, making escape an impossible option.

As they neared the entrance, a gunshot rang out, followed by a scream – and then another, seemingly louder than the first.

The next thing he knew, he was being thrust inside the house of horrors where the shots had rung from, the heavy metal doors slamming shut behind him with a thunderous clang.

Upon entry, before he even saw anything, a new smell seemed to waft into the room of his confinement.

An unmistakable, metallic scent assaulted his nostrils.

Miles recognized it instantly.

He frantically swung his eyes about, trying to locate the source, and when he did, despite being no stranger to gory crime scenes, he still found himself staggering upon the sight of the sanguine fluid seeping across the floor.

His mouth opened, but his voice caught in his parched, ragged throat.

The tell-tale scent swirled in his mind, making him feel slightly light-headed as his wide-eyed gaze followed the oozing trail, almost as though it had a mind of its own, borne from part reflex, part sheer, morbid curiosity.

The red liquid slowly flowed through the tiny cracks on the floor. It was heading towards him, and every limb in his body screamed for him to run.

But again, his legs would not obey. They remained as frozen in place as the rest of him while tremors of horror shot up his spine because that was when he spotted her.

That’s when it hit him.

As his alarmed gaze followed the trail of the crimson tide, they zeroed in on the recognizable figure lying on the floor, the familiar chestnut mane splayed around the unmoving body, which was half lying in the rapidly growing pool of blood.

So much blood…

Miles felt the sweat drench his skin, the throbbing of his horrified eyes, the ringing scream vibrating in his ears, and the erratic thumping of his heart.

His dry, chapped lips somehow formed the lone, anguished cry, as though wrenched from his chest.

“Lana!”

Translations

Der Fisch stinkt vom Kopf her! – The fish starts stinking from the head. Aka: those in charge are to blame.

Armleuchter – a dimwit. Literally a candelabra.

Fickfehler – someone whose breath was unplanned. Literally a fuck error.

Arsch Mit Ohren – literally a walking arse with ears.

Schlappschwanz – a wimp. Literally a weak cock.

Die Nase voll haben! – To have the nose full. Aka: enough is enough.

Twat (non vulgar version) – The word twat is widely used as a derogatory epithet, especially in British English, referring to a person considered obnoxious or stupid. It is also used informally as a verb in British English to mean “to hit or punch a person

Songs

For Ilet Moratar:

Patricia Teherán – Everything Would Give For You

(English translation from Spanish lyrics to song “Todo Daría Por Yi”)

For Danny Dragon:

Breaking Benjamin – Ashes of Eden

Bob Seger – Shakedown

Glenn Frey – The Heat Is On