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Phoenix had tried everything to reach Miles Edgeworth. But the man had sent back all of his letters with a stamp "return to sender." Ignored all of his phone calls. Pretended not to recognize him when he had showed up at his door.

The only recourse left to him was to consult with another Miles Edgeworth.

The spirit medium Morgan Fey had been most helpful when he had solicited her help in Kurain - which he had heard about through the attorney who had inspired him, Mia Fey - and three mystical artifacts and one head-spinning timey-wimey trip later, he was standing in front of the Prosecutors' Building.

Did that mean Edgeworth was still a prosecutor in the future? Had Phoenix failed to reach him? Squaring his shoulders, he strode through the front door.

Still shaking, Phoenix was desperately trying to steel himself, as he was about to enter his old friend's office. How would Miles react when he saw him? Will he even remember him? The "Return to Sender" letters kept crawling back into his train of thought. 'Nothing else I can do!" Nick murmured... He then opened the door, to find... "What?!" He was dumbstruck. In front of him.. sporting a few hairs on the chin & wearing nothing but a towel & a lousie beanie hat, was himself.

The younger Phoenix stared silently, equal parts confused and aghast at the sight of this kindred spirit. This older version of him was haggard, clearly worn down by the years, and although the smirk he wore upon his lips conveyed an almost amused opinion of the situation they found themselves in, the dulled, darkened pools of blue eyes indicated that he had lost some part of him, of them, that could be called uniquely Phoenix.

"Hey, kid. You get roped into this mess too?" he heard the older version of himself ask. 

"W-what do you mean? Where's Miles...?" Phoenix ogled him perplexedly and squinted past him to see if the one he had tried to summon was there, ensconced within the elegant office and hidden out of view by the raggedly dressed man. Unfortunately the only person who occupied the room was the gruff adult.

"Ah. You were looking for Edgeworth?" the older Phoenix scoffed softly, turning his tired gaze away from him. "I guess I never really did stop searching for him. Even after I found him."

"You... you found him?" the art student asked, rivetted, his attention fixed upon the comment.

"Yeah. I did. We helped each other through a lot, too. He's the closest friend I've got." the hoary man murmured, those hardened sapphire irises locking back onto him. "And you... you're the one who took him from me again, aren't you?"

"Took... him...?" 

"Whatever you and Morgan Fey did... whatever nonsense she told you and you believed..." glaring now, the older version of him snarled, "it's your fault he's gone!"

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It was forbidden, it was wrong... but GOD it felt so "wright". Lying in Winston Payne's arms... Phoenix felt at home. His flimsy wig of hair tickling Phoenix's chin. They could only be together for one night, they both knew. Yet in the darkness the pretended that they had forever. After all how could they be together when Payne is already married to the Judge?

Phoenix turned his gaze away yet Payne caught him by his chin, angling his head back to him, holding his eye contact and smiling softly. "You may be a rookie in the courtroom, Wright. But you will never be a newcomer to my heart." Phoenix flushed hotly at the words, resting his hands on Payne's chest. "P-Payne... I... I have something I need to tell you..." he started, the guilt residing inside him eating away at his heart.

"I have always admired you," Phoenix began. "It may seem like I am contemptuous towards you in court, but that's all just a front. . . just a bluff when I don't know what I'll say."

Payne looked touched. "No one's ever said such kind words to me before," he murmured.

"You are fearless and bold, and I respect you," Phoenix continued. "I hope I can face you across the courtroom for many years to come. Even if we can't be together, it would lift my spirits just to see your face."

Payne was in tears. "Phoenix Wright, do you really feel that way? Sometimes I think I'm just a side character in someone else's adventure. Just a foolish old artifact, to be defeated and tossed aside."

"Even if you are to be defeated, you're the one who sets the hero on their journey, no? Your role is essential, for without you, I would never have become the attorney I am today." Phoenix whispered, placing a sweet kiss on Payne's lips.

"Oh gosh-golly, jolly-rogers," Payne said with tears in his eyes. "I can't go through with it. I have to come clean. I lured you here with the goal of taking you out of action before the Bluecorp trial tomorrow. But now. . . you're a young man of good sense and taste, and I couldn't in good conscience go through with it."

So saying, he threw aside a large rock.

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It was the most convoluted plan yet, but all other plans had failed her. As a last ditch resort, Morgan approached Dr. Hotti at the Hotti Clinic.

"Listen, my good man. In a month's time, I will bring my niece in for a spiritual power check."

"I'm sorry, Ma'am. We don't perform those here. . . although for you we might make an exception." Dr. Hotti made a disgusting grabbing gesture as he leered.

"Save your breath. My niece has none to speak of. No, the assistance I need is of a much more. . . sophisticated nature." Morgan gave Dr. Hotti a look of distaste. "If you slip this vial into her medication, I will make it well worth your while."

"What does it do?"

"It renders a series of. . . mysterious changes in the patient. The likes of which you need not concern yourself over."

"And what do I get of it?"

Morgan shuddered. "Anything you'd like. It's all the same to me."

"Oh we'll figure something out." He made grabby hands again and went straight to give girl a shot. But he stumbled as he went and he needle went to his hand instead of girls. "Oweee"

"Idiot! What have you done?" 

"Oh, it's a common medicine unless" Dr. Hotti looked back at the woman. "What was it?"

"Are you... ok?" Morgan hesitated, then instinctly backed away, realizing she's now in danger. On the other end of the table, Hottie started drooling all over while flabbing his eyes. Were it any other woman, they might've let down a scream, but not Morgan Fey! If she should run from this, how could she believe herself to be worthy? Worthy of RULING OVER the Fey clan?! And if she's not... oh dear lord, what would happen to her one and only treasure. Her Pearl. Hottie was starting to spasm on the floor, ooze coming out of his nostrils. Morgan knew she had to think fast - In a moment's notice, she channeled an important & well-known martial artist from the past. He made Hottie sleep in one attack, and started clinging to a lamp on the ceiling. The day was saved by Herlock.

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"What is.. happening?" Miles gasped. His eyes glued to the horrible sight in front of him. The old & frail man was.. changing? mutating? All while beaming with an unbreakable voice: "HAHAHA YOU CAN DO NOTHING AGAINST ME, SIR! KISS YOUR BOYFRIEND GOODBYE!" Miles had to think fast, but the old man's changing look... there was... something to it. He just couldn't find it in his heart to look away.

The man's face shifted and morphed: into Robert Hammond, into his least favorite college professor, into Terry Fawles... (Oh, I'm having a nightmare,) Miles concluded with some relief, which dissipated as the face settled into the stern, aquiline features of his former mentor.

"So you are dating that worthless attorney, after all?" he scoffed. "I always knew you would fall short of perfection."

The next face was the Judge. "It is a conflict of interest."

Miles gaped at the old man... no, Hammond, no, Fawles, no.... he stared at a face flickering from one for to another. Temperamental, terrifying, taunting. 
He staggered away from the morphing creature.

"No!" Miles cried, "he's not my boyfriend...."

"OBJECTION" the morphing entity cried- changing back to Quercus, "I have evidence that you were sleeping with him just last night."

"Objection!" Miles cried back- his voice steadfast and strong, "We were both wearing socks that night- ergo it does not count. Yes.... verily...." 

Satisfied with his answer he puffed out his chest and crossed his arms, a smirk dancing on his thin lips.

"NOOOOOOO" cried the shapeshifting beast, "NOT THE SOCK RULE!?"

"Yes, the sock rule" Miles snarled as the monster burst into a pile of ash on the floor. He had beaten the creature with his divine logic Skills. "HOZZAH!"

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Franziska arrived at the Zheng Fa embassy that calm winter morning, heading directly there from the airport. It would be the first time she had encountered the Interpol agent who assisted her and her brother in identifying the leader of the smuggling ring which had plagued numerous countries for years, left to burn away like an uncontained wildfire and destroying all those in its path. She had not realised she was holding her breath as she finally inhaled sharply and took the first step of many up the long, winding staircase toward Lang's office, realising she may not be quite as prepared for the meeting as she initially anticipated.

She opened the door tentatively, her right hand hovering over her whip. Her veins flooded with fire as she prepared herself to face the HIMBO that is Lang. She could never have prepared herself for what she saw in front of her though. 

Lang was on all fours howling (like a 13 year old going through a wolf girl phrase) at a poster of Jacob from Twilight.

"A-agent Lang!" She cracked her whip to cover her voice cracking at the shameful display. "What is this foolishness?"

"A simple ritual of my kind? As Lang Zi says: full moon is rising and wolf should prepare!" He said as he raised rolling his broad shoulders.

"Prepare for what? My arrival? It was clearly not a way to welcome a colleague." She was clutching to her whip, trying to make any sense.

"To the fool moon as I said." Lang was still relaxed as if nothing peculiar had occurred.

"What foolish full moon has to do with anything?"

"Don't you get it? You know who I am, say it!"

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Wright sat on the red sofa trying the cushions for comfort. As Edgeworth just moved back from Europe recently he was supposed to help him pick furniture for his new apartments. As everything was out of his price range he choose judging from perspective of how comfortable it would be to sleep on it. As if he would ever sleep in his apartment but a man can dream?

"So, what do you think?" Miles asked.

"Well I can imagine it won't hurt my back even more..."

"Not the advice I was looking for."

"For it to hurt your back, how long were you planning to spend sitting on it?"

Wright waved his hands vaguely. "Long enough for. . . a Steel Samurai marathon, I guess? Maya would love to see it on your big screen TV. Yeah."

"Alright, this one then."

Soon after the couch was delivered, Edgeworth invited Wright and Miss Fey over for the discussed Steel Samurai marathon. But when Maya put in the tape, rather than the opening theme, it was Wright on the screen.

The Wright in the video sat in a dark room, seemingly unaware of his audience. "I don't know what to say," he said slowly into the darkness. "But I have to come clean."

"What is this, Wright?" Miles quirked an eyebrow.

"Oh, god..."

Wright buried his head in his hands, as the on-screen Wright continued speaking.

"Apollo... Trucy... I did not tell you that you were siblings because I wanted to live out my domestic fantasy a bit longer. Edgeworth inviting us to Europe every year - that might not happen anymore if we changed anything in the equation. The Sitting on the couch, the three of us - what if the couch were not big enough for four?"

As Miles stared at him, Wright looked like he wanted to sink right through the new furniture, into a void.