Heh, I've been here for a day and already I'm posting enormous fanfics. I'm here to stay, people, so brace yourselves for immediate disintegration!

Ahem.

This is my very first PW fic. Rated M for Mature due to violent imagery and some scary elements. You know, PW horror stories are very hard to come by, so here's a new addition to a tiny category.

Inspired by Stephen King's works of art, specifically Lisey's Story. Say thankee sai, O Discordia! I'll be reading your stories until one of us drops dead.

With that out of the way, sit back, relax, and watch the skies with me.

~Xilaa

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“I believe that unarmed truth and unconditional love will have the final word in reality. This is why right, temporarily defeated, is stronger than evil triumphant.”

--Martin Luther King Jr.

“So don't delay, act now, supplies are running out.
Allow, if you're still alive, six to eight years to arrive.
And if you follow there may be a tomorrow,
But if the offer’s shunned, you might as well be walkin' on the sun.”

--Walkin on the Sun, Smashmouth

Truth

“I find your lack of faith disturbing.”

--Darth Vader, Star Wars

Chapter 1:

Beliefs

1

The trial was in the bag.

The defense was in tatters.

The judge had seen the light at the end of the tunnel.

Such legal perfection could only be attributed to one man.

Miles Edgeworth slung his maroon jacket over a shoulder and made a beeline to the prosecutor’s restroom. While the case was cool and the trial absolutely frigid, the courtroom was blazing hot. July in Los Angeles, California, was a time when even the tourists stayed away. It was simply too much.

The case wasn’t even about murder or foul play. Just an episode of violated copyright. The defense, while seasoned in his field, had been thoroughly picked apart. There had been no need for tampering with evidence or prepping the witnesses. Everything had just come together like puzzle pieces.

When had prosecution become so easy?

Edgeworth relieved himself, then washed his hands. His reflection in the mirror caught his eye...and his mind’s eye, as well. His mind warped his face and turned it from a twenty-something lawyer into a troll, a malignant being that the Earth ceased to amaze. The miracle of life no longer excited that monster, since everything born had been done before.

Edgeworth believed that humans were alone in space, at least in this galaxy. He had read the statistics that claimed that there were possibly thousands of intelligent societies out among the stars, but for each alien race, there were millions of planets and systems that were deserted. While there may be other lives outside of Earth, they were too far away for contact, and that was how he liked it.

He growled at his reflection and splashed water on his face. Now was not a good time for his imagination to run free. While the trial had gone off without a hitch, he had thought up horrendous alternate endings in case the defendant was considered innocent, some of which included his own assassination.

Get a grip, girlfriend, he thought, and grinned at his reflection. The bared teeth and water dripping down his face made him look wild and more than a little disturbing. He was shocked to find that he had frightened himself with that face. He toweled himself dry, composed himself, and exited the restroom. His penthouse and his potentially deafening stereo system were singing a siren’s song.

There was a short corridor between the restroom and the lobby, and as Edgeworth entered from one end, the door at the other opened.

Phoenix Wright came in. It was unexpected; the defense attorney had no business to attend at the courtroom today. He was behavior was unusual as well. He had a slightly splayed gait, but his arms were stiffly held down, as if his hands had turned to lead weights. There was a light in his dark, almost black eyes that gave Edgeworth a nasty feeling all over.

Edgeworth opened his mouth to snap at Phoenix, and their eyes met.

What happened next began the next great age of human history.

Phoenix charged Edgeworth and pinned him against the wall like a bug under glass. There was a gleam of metal and then the prosecutor’s hands were handcuffed together. The cuff chain was strung around a lamp jutting out of the wall, holding his hands over his head. The maroon jacket had been dropped during the attack, and now lay on the floor like a carcass.

The entire series of events happened in the space of two seconds.

Edgeworth could feel his mind working double time, trying to keep up, and it made him dizzy, but there was a soft click! and his vision cleared instantly...though he later regretted ever seeing what he then viewed.

There was a switchblade pressed to his throat.

Phoenix grinned and Edgeworth literally felt assaulted by the stench. Phoenix’s teeth were brown and yellow with decay...and they were all fangs. Not a single molar in sight. These teeth were designed for slicing through meat. These were animal teeth.

Now the prosecutor knew that he was scared.

“Edgeworth,” Phoenix said, his grin emanating vile glee.

“Phoenix,” Edgeworth replied, hands fighting their bonds. There was no success there, other than scratching his wrists. “Please tell me when you admit this is all a cruel prank.”

“No prank. This is for real.”

Edgeworth’s steel eyes narrowed. Despite his fear, he tried to stay calm, follow this situation the way the self-defense books taught. “What do you want from me, Wright?”

Phoenix stepped in closer. He was a few inches shorter than Edgeworth, but when he stood on top of the prosecutor’s feet, they could see eye to eye. He leaned in and whispered into his ear:

“I’ve been looking for you for a long time.”

There was a tangible darkness in his voice, and Edgeworth tried to remove himself from whatever foulness Phoenix had in store for him.

The prosecutor replied, “We’ve seen each other before. In court...you helped me. Two years ago. Why don’t you remember?”

“Because I am just a glammer.”

Edgeworth wasn’t sure what a glammer was, but it terrified him anyway. His heart was pounding. The constant pressure on his feet was painful, and now one of his wrists were bleeding. The knife at his throat kept him from fully exhaling, and any breath he took was tainted with Phoenix’s breath anyway.

He could place the scent. It was burnt rubber, like smoking tires.

Phoenix chuckled, and Edgeworth heard what true evil sounded like.

“Does that make me crazy?” Phoenix sang quietly, into Edgeworth’s ear. He vaguely remembered the tune, but not the song’s name. “Does that make me crazy? Does that make me crazy?” Phoenix paused a moment, just to sigh into the ear. “Possibly.”

Edgeworth could hear him grin, and every cell in his body howled in agony.

“I need something from you,” Phoenix said, “And after that I will kill you, just like I did the defense attorney I now wear.”

Edgeworth’s heart skipped a beat. Nothing on Earth could wear a man like a garment. That, and the horrible teeth and foul breath...that left only one option.

He refused to believe it. The deeply ingrained paradigms that shaped him, made him who he was, operated him in his own unique way, roared their outrage at the very thought that Phoenix was not human.

But wasn’t it he himself who once stated that evidence was all that mattered...?

Phoenix withdrew, and Edgeworth could finally breath again. The defense attorney flipped the blade in his hand. It nicked his palm...but there was no sign that it hurt. There was no blood. Just a gash that opened into a diamond-shaped hole. There was only darkness within.

The gashed hand suddenly struck, grabbed Edgeworth’s puffy cravat, and tore it clean off. Edgeworth flinched, and then Phoenix was back, the switchblade pressed to the collar of the prosecutor’s dress shirt.

Phoenix cut through Edgeworth’s shirt and vest with one long, slow cut. This made Edgeworth panic. It was bad enough that Phoenix was making him question his beliefs, but now it seemed that further humiliation was imminent.

Phoenix paused to look over the switchblade. He scowled, and that in itself was enough to crank up Edgeworth’s fear meter higher.

“Your weaponry is so poorly made,” he said, “Dulled, even after one use. Ah, well, it’s good that I brought my own equipment, hmm?”

He shot his hand out again and slapped it against the wall hard enough for Edgeworth to recoil. It was only a few inches away from his face. He bit back a gasp in shock as Phoenix took the switchblade to his own hand, slicing through each finger at the second knuckle without preamble. Once one hand was done, he did the same to the other. The fingertips fell to the floor with soft thunks!

When he was finished, he threw the switchblade at the discarded jacket. It embedded itself in the coat’s back, the handle jutting out like an exclamation point. The metaphor was too obvious to deny.

Edgeworth squeezed his eyes shut. When had this man he had known as a child completely lost his mind? His claims of glammer, the sharpened teeth, self-mutilation... This was nothing like the Phoenix he knew.

Only more evidence pointing to the antithesis of his every belief. The prosecutor felt himself produce two tears, one in each eye. One droplet left his eye to trickle down his cheek...

A cold, metal thing was pressed against his skin and collected the tear. Edgeworth opened his eyes, and Phoenix was smiling at him sweetly. When those horrible teeth were hidden, he looked almost normal, but there was that gleam in his eyes that threw off any sense of security.

They were insane eyes.

“Are you squeamish?” Phoenix asked. His voice was as sweet and smooth as honey. “Because things are about to get even worse for you.”

Edgeworth finally caught sight of what had replaced Phoenix’s fingertips. Sharp, metal points had emerged from his fingers, which looked more and more like illusions of humanity than true skin. The claws were shiny and chrome...and there was one touching him right now, if he wasn’t mistaken.

He gasped and jerked away from the horrible, inhuman thing. Phoenix simply smiled and stepped closer, holding up his claws. They glinted in the light like no Earth metal.

“Like them? I had them specially designed for this purpose only. Oh, and keep in mind that these are only a tiny portion of their true size. Those puppies can tear through flesh and bone like butter. That’s what I think I will do to you when I’ve gotten what I need from you. Now hold very still. I don’t want to wound you before I get what I came here for.”

It was really over in an instant, but to Edgeworth, it lasted a million years. Phoenix’s hands moved like blurs, and his claws moved like scissors, shredding his vest and shirt. Strips of fabric flew like confetti.

He’s good at this, Edgeworth thought wildly, Maybe he’s part paper shredder.

When Phoenix was done, the prosecutor’s chest was bare, and his shirt sleeves were held up limply by the cuffs caught up with his bound hands. The defense attorney seemed proud of his handiwork. He was beaming, and those teeth caught the light and glowed a diseased yellow.

“Take it easy,” Phoenix said, his voice almost a whisper, “You’re almost done.”

The defender lowered his head to Edgeworth’s bare chest, and began to listen to his heartbeat.

It had to be pounding hundreds of times a minute. That was how it felt to Edgeworth. He was truly terrified. His childhood friend had gone mad, or was possessed, or was not human. Again his beliefs screamed in fury, and he almost screamed along with them. As each paradigm started to die fiery deaths, the prosecutor began to think that his brain was frying.

Does that make me crazy? Edgeworth thought, and in spite of it all he felt like laughing, and that gave him confirmation that this short excursion into Hell was nudging him towards the deep end.

But he wasn’t there yet, and while the prosecutor wasn’t religious (that came with believing in other life forms), he found himself praying to some god that this would be over soon.

Phoenix snarled like a rabid dog and withdrew, fingering his ear. His claws left shallow but savage gashes in the flesh. “Katesh,” he hissed, “Why is it that everything human is so poorly constructed?”

“Just cut it off then. Maybe I can see the cannonball you have for a brain.”

Edgeworth horrified himself with his speech, and now his urge to laugh was even worse. It seemed that humans had a self-defense mechanism that made them crack awful jokes when faced with their deaths. Then he actually started to giggle, and there was madness in his jolly good fun, he could hear it.

Phoenix’s face rippled, like a curtain in the breeze, and Edgeworth began to cry with his laughter.

There was suddenly a bright flash of pain, and Edgeworth ceased making noises at all. Phoenix had slapped him, and his claws had opened three small cuts on his cheek. The lowest cut began to leak bright red fluid. The defender’s insane eyes glittered at the sight.

“Terrifying people is the easiest way for me to find what I need,” Phoenix said, “Are you scared yet? Or should I say: are you sufficiently scared?”

The defender stepped back onto Edgeworth’s sore feet so they could stare eye to eye again. The craziness in the black holes that were Phoenix’s eyes only served to shove the prosecutor closer to the loony bin.

“You seem to be a man who is easily moved by words,” Phoenix continued, “So shall I tell you how I killed the person I now wear? I tortured him. I humiliated him. You could say that I totally raped his mind. There was nothing in his brain other than me, once I was done with him. When I killed him, he was curled up like an unborn fetus and whimpering like a small child.”

Edgeworth’s voice shook as he said, “I don’t believe you.”

“But you do, and that’s what I was banking on, Miles. You play yourself like a demon, but deep inside you’re just as fragile as everyone else. You depend on others just like everyone else. And when you hear that one of your connections has fallen – been destroyed – you can’t stand it. That’s human nature. You’re just as human as the rest, prosecutor, and you hate it.”

Edgeworth was silent.

Phoenix grinned and listened to his heartbeat again. This time it was slower...heavier. The prosecutor was still terrified...but only to the point where there was no other emotion in his heart. Horror made some people slow down...occasionally stop. This was what Phoenix was looking for: what made Edgeworth stop.

But when Phoenix found it, he himself was scared.

The defender moved away quickly and stared at Edgeworth’s drooping head. Phoenix was absolutely enraged. The burnt rubber breath was now coming from all over his body. There was so much of the scent that it was visible, a rising heat haze dancing around him like an aura.

“You,” he said, the glitter fading from his eyes. Without it, he looked undead. “After all these years...it’s you, again...”

Phoenix’s voice awakened Edgeworth from his terror stupor, and he looked up, dazed. “Phoenix,” he said, “Please, Phoenix, tell me you’re back...for good...”

The defender replied by striking the prosecutor again, this time on the chin. The cuts his claws left were deeper, and all of them bleed profusely. Phoenix had the insane grin on again.

“It’s been twenty-four years, my boy! Oh, what am I saying, you’re Miles now, that’s your name, Miles Edgeworth! Katesh, if I had known that, you would have been mine, and everything would be different. Katesh! Katesh vet ex tu Vaxeena!”

No, Edgeworth decided, He’s still insane.

Phoenix flexed his claws, and more of his flesh fell off, revealing long, sharp metal. His grin had almost stretched across his entire face, and he seemed to have more of those horrible teeth than before.

“Remember these, Miles?” Phoenix said, nearly laughing, “Do you remember what these feel like? It’s been so long, I’m sure you don’t, but who knows! It could be possible! This very encounter proves that such stretches of coincidence are real!”

He struck a thoughtful pose, claws scratching at his chin. The gashes they left revealed nothing but dark space within.

“My plans have changed, Miles,” he continued, “Back then, I was going to plant a device into your heart so I could always keep tabs on you, but it’s too late for that now. Now that you are such a strong individual...but yes, I think I can still use you. Yes, I can. Use you like a helpless rag doll. Because I know what makes you stop, Miles, I know what hides in the darkest, oldest regions of your soul!

“I know your first terror!”

Phoenix erupted into laughter. Edgeworth had never heard such a hellish noise before. It was the Devil’s laugh, and Edgeworth never forgot it, even on his dying day. It would always haunt the back of his mind, replaying on dark nights when there was no moon, or on days when the sun was pure radioactive heat.

Phoenix slowly stopped laughing and composed himself. He glanced at the door to the lobby, and gave a small smile.

“Oops. I was too loud. Someone’s coming. I can feel it in the floorboards.”

He turned back to Edgeworth, who had fallen into a daze again. He cupped his chin and brought his hung head up so they could again stare into the mirrors of their souls. There was nothing in Phoenix’s eyes but madness and a savage, animal glee.

“Would you like to see what I can do to you, Miles? What I can do to the human race, as a whole? Sure! I’d be happy to show you! But first, I need to change back into my real form. I hope it doesn’t drive you insane.”

I think I already am, Edgeworth thought. It was his first cognitive thought since Phoenix had laughed like that.

Phoenix turned towards the lobby door and shouted, “Oh my God, let go of me! Drop the gun! Drop the gun!”

Now Edgeworth could feel heavy footsteps in the floor. They were running.

Phoenix began to change.

His skin began to unravel at each joint. The flesh in between each junction was rolling in until both sides met in the middle, where they simply winked out of existence in a flash of green sparks. His clothes disappeared, and his hair vanished, and then his eyes, normally so big and bright, evaporated into something so utterly foreign and bizarre that Edgeworth did indeed lose his mind.

It went with a loud popping noise, and after that, the whole episode became blurred.

What stood before him now clearly did not belong on Earth.

The lobby door burst open, and several bailiffs rushed in, their own guns drawn.

“Freeze, motherfu—” one of them began. Then they caught sight of the thing that was masquerading as Phoenix.

“Aw, shi—”

The thing attacked.

At this point, Edgeworth was in no condition to do much of anything, let alone observe the massacre that occurred. The claws that had torn open his chin and cheek could indeed slice through flesh and bone. There were no screams. There was no time.

When it was over, there were four bailiffs dead, though the carnage suggested that many people had died. The walls and floor were splattered with blood and other horrible fluids. Edgeworth’s shoes were covered in death, and one foot had a disembodied eyeball perched on top; it was staring up at him. He stared back, mind gone, and without a thought in his head.

The thing that had been wearing Phoenix’s body was also covered in gore, but it didn’t seem to mind. In fact, it was enjoying being coated in entrails and red liquid. It turned from the tragedy and faced Edgeworth, a smile on its face.

“That attracted attention,” it said, its voice as clear and beautiful as fine crystal, but that was the only good aspect to the thing. “People will find you soon. I don’t think you will recover from this. That is good.”

It leaned in and whispered into his ear:

“There are othersout there, Miles. And they’re closer than you think.”

The thing grinned, withdrew, and mimicked one of the bows that Edgeworth himself so often performed in court, then bolted into the bathroom, slammed the door behind it, and leapt out the bathroom window.

The lobby door opened and a woman screamed shrilly, but she faded into oblivion as Edgeworth fainted.

2

The course of time would be a lot different if Rose Dearborn hadn’t been jamming to her iPhone at that point in space.

The twenty-two year old nurse was a fan of Court TV and CSI and other such entertainment, but this was the closest she had ever gotten to a real lawyer before. She lived cautiously, and her worst brush with the law had been a speeding ticket last week, which she paid for, and promised to never go 45 in a 25 zone again.

This guy wasn’t like anything she had seen on Court Cases Gone Bad. Her view of lawyers was stereotypical: older, wrinkly men who wore black suits and ties and expensive shoes, and who only cared to make loads of money off whoever had gone to them for help. But the patient she had been assigned to was nothing like that, even though Dr. Pilbry had told her that he was a prosecutor, and a famous one at that.

The lawyer had a bandage on his cheek and stitches holding together three deep gashes on his chin. Hardly something worth a stay in a hospital, but the man had apparently suffered from the worst case of shock Dr. Pilbry had ever seen before. The lawyer’s heart had undergone something called bradycardia: it had beat too slow to support life functions. He had slipped into unconsciousness and then into shock.

The lawyer had been accepted into emergency surgery to insert a temporary pacemaker into his chest. It had been a complete success and he had been closed up nice and tight and placed into this room. Dr. Pilbry had been congratulated, but the good doctor politely refused any compliments.

“He’s such a young guy,” Pilbry had said, “To have undergone such a medical problem at his age...it had to have been the murders at the courthouse. Those cops...they were completely torn to shreds. Ever see Texas Chainsaw Massacre? It was just like that. This poor guy had to watch as they were annihilated. I’m sure if I saw something like that, I wouldn’t just go into shock; I’d drop dead.”

Although the lawyer was expected to make a full recovery, Dr. Pilbry instructed Rose to watch over him while he was unconscious.

“After all,” Pilbry had also said, “Men in comas can’t press the I’m-having-a-heart-attack button. Plus, if he was to wake up alone, he could sue.”

Rose had been waiting on the lawyer to wake up for the past two hours. She didn’t really mind so much. She had a great comic book to read, and her iPhone was playing one of its five hundred and ninety-six songs. Plus, the lawyer was easy on the eyes, even if he was bandaged up and had gone through emergency heart surgery.

Her iPhone changed songs, and Rose gasped. This was one of her favorites.

The melody charged her soul and she set down the comic book to stand up and dance, holding her fists like a street fighter and tapping her foot against the ground.

She began to sing.

“These fancy things

Will never come in between.

You’re part of my entity,

Here for infinity.

When the war has took its part,

When the world has dealt its cards,

If the hand is hard,

Together we’ll mend your heart.”

Rose stood and began to commit to her dance when she noticed that the lawyer’s steel gray eyes were wide open and staring at her.

She uttered a tiny scream and almost tripped over the chair she had been sitting in. The iPhone’s ear buds fell out of her head and hit the ground with a series of minute crunching noises: the inner mechanics breaking. She quickly composed herself into a halfway decent state, scooped up her music, and faced the prosecutor, blushing.

The lawyer hung his head and mumbled something softly, too quietly for Rose to hear. Then he clamped a hand over his mouth and violently sobbed. Any sounds were muffled, but the sheer force of his emotions were enough to make his whole body tremble.

Rose had never seen anything so sad in her whole life.

For a second, she was able to see the future this man would evolve into, and how it had been irreversibly mutated due to this one procedure, this one situation. Any success he would have in any future trials was now gone. This man would never again live a simple life. The future held a cruel fate for him, and Rose could see it, but she did not understand it.

This lawyer’s prosecuting days were over.

All of his relationships would be strenuously tested.

There was murder and bloodshed imminent.

And this man would, someday, abandon planet Earth.

While this lasted only a split second, Rose was reduced to instinct.

She dropped her iPhone, sat on the bed next to the lawyer, and held him in her arms. He wept into her bosom like a wounded child, and she let his tears stain her white dress. Her maternal nature awoke, and she stroked his hair and cooed in a language that went back to the days of cave life.

The moment was so perfectly humanthat Edgeworth found his thoughts.



By all means, he was still insane. While he was once again able to form inner dialogue, the words and phrases came and went without his permission, and, more often than not, made no sense. He could remember who he was, and how he had come to become that way, but some areas were coated in a purple curtain: another mental self-defense mechanism. His mind was protecting itself against itself, and the thought was slowly but steadily driving his newly found capability back into the loony bin.

He thought he could live with it, given enough time.

Allow, if you’re still alive, six to eight years to arrive.

Edgeworth wiped the tears off his face and glanced up at Rose’s face.

“Its voice was beautiful, like yours,” he said, “But I don’t think it could sing, even if it tried.”

Rose blushed a deep red, and, realizing the compromising position they were in, let go of the lawyer. Edgeworth sat up and fingered his bandages curiously.

Rose timidly got up and asked, “Uh, Mr. E-Edgeworth? Y-y-you’re in Central LA H-Hospital. H-how are you feeling?”

Edgeworth peeled off the bandage on his cheek. There were three angry red scratches underneath.

“A little batty,” he said, completely dismissing his admittance of insanity, “but I think I’m going to have to get used to that. Damn...you sing like an angel.”

Rose blushed even deeper.

Edgeworth gave her a look so brutally honest that her heart leapt into her throat.

“I think you brought me back from madness.”

Rose could tell he was being sincere, and she fell back into the chair in shock. So he had felt the same sensation of being so purely human as well, but he was responding to it in a different manner.

She could tell at that point that Edgeworth was indeed a little batty. Looking into his eyes, Rose confirmed her suspicions.

Edgeworth’s steel eyes had a mad glint to them.

The lawyer’s gaze, however, was friendly. “Can I go home?”

Rose found herself saying what the prosecutor wanted to hear. “S-sure. You’re a legal a-adult. You can leave w-whenever you want.”

“Thank you...Rose,” Edgeworth said. He got out of bed and crossed over to the iPhone on the floor. He scooped it up and placed it in Rose’s hand. “I apologize for making you drop this. I didn’t mean to frighten you. Why do you have that old thing anyway? It must be a 2007 model, at least.”

The lawyer paused pensively, thought, and continued, “I can remember the past. That’s good. That’s very good. Does this mean I can see the future?” He was quiet for a moment, then said, “No. I can’t. That may be good too.”

Edgeworth leaned in conspiratorially and murmured, “I have to kill him, Rose.”

Then he turned away from her as if she was only a piece of furniture and left the room.

I just heard a madman plan to kill someone, Rose realized, and then she sat back in her chair and didn’t move for a long time.

3

Around nine that night, Edgeworth arrived at the sixth floor of the building that housed Wright and Co. Law Offices. He had been successfully released from Central LA Hospital, and had gone straight to the nearest police department, but not because he wanted federal protection.

He had raided their armory.

The maroon slacks and cotton shirts had been trashed in exchange for a navy blue police uniform, elbow- and kneepads, a Kevlar vest, a flashlight, a holster...

And a SIG P226 9mm handgun.

Edgeworth didn’t think the thing that wore Phoenix was bulletproof.

The law office was illuminated only by the lights of the surrounding buildings, and that was hardly enough to make the area fully visible. As Edgeworth held the handgun, he shone the flashlight beneath it. He could have been mistaken for a professional policeman had he not been sweating bullets.

The psychological aspect was not frightening to him due to his madness. He had a long history with Phoenix, going back to when they were both children, but the idea of shooting his once friend and current rival fatally was of no concern. Whenever he thought of it, only one lyric of advice returned from his purple-shrouded mind.

I wanna get psycho!

Instead, his imagination was running pranks on his eyes. Bookshelves looked like smiling glammers, manila case files the same shade as rotten fangs. Couches could resemble or harbor creatures that did not belong on planet Earth that were ready to spring and do to Edgeworth what had been done to four bailiffs in the courthouse. Light reflecting off computer screens or desk lamps could be the same as gleaming metal claws...

Despite his runaway thoughts, the office was deserted. There was not a soul there.

But Edgeworth had not checked everywhere. There was still one place unchecked.

The broom closet.

The door opened outwards, so Edgeworth stayed a long way away, gun held ready, and slowly inched in until he could reach the doorknob. His sweaty hands made gripping the firearm difficult, and he found he was trembling.

The prosecutor wasn’t sure how good a shot he was. If the thing decided to launch a surprise attack, Edgeworth didn’t know if he could hit it at all, let alone fatally. The speed and finesse it had displayed in the courthouse hinted at a long career of battle.

If Edgeworth couldn’t kill it immediately, then he was a dead man.

He held the flashlight in his mouth so he could grip the doorknob.

And he threw the door open.

He had the gun and flashlight back in his hands in an instant, and he could actually see the thing springing, its teeth and claws illuminated by the electric glare; the last things he ever saw in life would be his means of demise—

But then reality snapped back into focus. There were no glammers in the closet.

There was a naked, bound Phoenix Wright instead.

He wasn’t moving, and his head was slumped forward against his chest. He was gagged with a white bandage, and bound with a white, paper-like material. He was crammed into the closet next to a bucket, several bottles of cleaning agent, and mops and brooms.

Edgeworth held the gun ready. The thing had come to him as Phoenix before. It could probably be Phoenix again. But why would it bind and gag itself and stuff itself into a broom closet?

Still, he wasn’t taking chances.

Feeling no compassion for his friend and rival, Edgeworth slapped Phoenix. Hard.

The defender’s head snapped back, but he was silent...then he groaned against the gag. His chest began to move with deeper, more regular breaths. His fingers flexed, and Edgeworth saw that Phoenix had his fingertips back on. Come to think of it, Phoenix looked relatively unscathed. There were no cuts on his ear or chin.

The defender opened his eyes, and Edgeworth immediately knew he was real.

Phoenix’s eyes were blue.

As the world swam into Technicolor relief, the defender craned his head to stare at the prosecutor, and groaned again. It sounded painful this time.

Edgeworth tore the gag off his face, again feeling no sympathy for the quiet, wounded yelp Phoenix gave at the shock.

The defender looked at him blearily.

“E-Edgeworth?” he asked, “Is that really you?”

“Yes, it is,” the prosecutor replied.

Phoenix chuckled lowly, then said, “It told me I had three days. Three days before I died of dehydration. It told me no one would find me. You know what, Edgey?

“It lied. You found me.”

Then Phoenix fainted.



He came around again sprawled out across a couch, still naked but no longer bound. He sat up slowly, stretching his sore limbs, then spied the glass and pitcher of icy water sitting nearby. Phoenix sprung to life, and despite his howling muscles, got to the water and drained the glass in one go. Never had he appreciated hydrogen dioxide so much in his life.

He was pouring more when he noticed Edgeworth. The prosecutor was perched on a desk, emptying and reloading his gun.

Phoenix sipped half the glass of water this time, then said:

“Geez, Edgeworth, you look like a member of SWAT.”

The prosecutor clicked the gun shut and stared at the firearm.

“Get dressed, Wright,” he muttered.

Phoenix blinked, confused, then nodded and blushed sheepishly. He got up, embarrassed about his nudity but not hiding it, and darted into the next room to quickly change. He always kept a pair of casual clothes in his office, just in case.

He came out in a pair of black jeans and a black T-shirt. There was a pair of fiery wings on the back. He sat back on the couch, faced Edgeworth, and downed the rest of the water. Once he was hydrated, he felt much better.

Edgeworth sighed and put the gun down on the desk. Once it was out of his hands, Phoenix felt very relieved.

“Wright,” Edgeworth said, “I’m here because today something masquerading as you attempted to get some kind of information out of me. This thing has completely skewed my mind. I don’t deny that I am a little crazy now. My thoughts are jumbled, and some memories are completely covered over in a mental blanket. There is a voice inside me now that is screaming for me to shoot you, even though I know you are not that thing.”

Phoenix gulped, and despite his water his throat went dry.

“I’m not listening to that voice, Wright. Otherwise you would be dead.”

The defender cracked a nervous grin. “That’s...very good, Edgeworth. It’s good to see that your ignorance skills are still working just fine.”

The prosecutor smiled. “Cracking awful jokes when faced with death. You are human. I’m glad. Understand that I am being sincere when I say that I am very happy that you are alive and real.”

The nervousness fled from Phoenix’s face, leaving just a happy smile. “I’m touched, Edgey. If losing your mind made you so cheerful, I’d have to say that it was the best thing that ever happened to you.”

They were both quiet for a moment. Edgeworth stripped himself of bulletproof vest and joint guards.

Phoenix spoke first.

“So. This thing you’re talking about. I saw it too.”

Edgeworth’s eyes narrowed. “What happened. Tell me.”

Phoenix lowered his eyes and said, “Well, it was a normal day at the office. It must have been around two-thirty, two days ago.”

“You were in that closet for two days?”

“Yes. That’s why I’m so grateful you came when you did.

“Anyway, it came in as a little girl. It said she came here with her father and got lost. I tried to help her, but...she fell apart before my eyes. Her skin disappeared into green flashes. When she was gone – took only a few seconds to fully change – what was left was...that thing.

“It overpowered me and pinned me to the desk you sit on right now. It shredded my jacket and shirt with these long, sharp metal claws. I was amazed at how precise it was. I mean, it tore my clothes to shreds, but not a mark on my skin. And I was also terrified. I have never been more scared in my entire life, Edgey. I admit this to you freely and not without some embarrassment.”

Edgeworth nodded his understanding, then motioned for Phoenix to continue.

“Well, once I was half-naked, it put its head on my chest. It was listening to my heartbeat. It must have been going about ten million miles an hour, but it got something out of me, because it smiled.”

Phoenix suddenly glared at the floor.

“Edgeworth, if I ever see that smile again, I’m going to kill what it’s attached to.”

“Why else do you think I was here?” the prosecutor said, gesturing to the 9mm. “I came here because the thing said it had my first terror. I don’t know what that means, but if it can learn something so sacred as your every fear...plus, it is not of this planet. It must be killed, Wright. Do you agree?”

Phoenix thought for a moment, then said:

“Yes.”

The two men were silent again. Finally, Phoenix spoke again.

“Anyway, it gagged me, bound my hands and arms, took off the rest of my clothes, bound my legs and feet, stuffed me in the closet, and talked a lot of psychological crap. Told me I’d never be found, that I’d die in three days due to lack of water, that no one loved me enough to come and look when I never reappeared...”

Phoenix blushed at Edgeworth.

“Looks like someone did.”

Edgeworth scowled. “This isn’t love, Wright. I came here to kill you.”

“Oh. Right. Well, I was crammed in the closet and it shut the door and I stayed in there for the past forty-eight hours. That’s about it.”

The prosecutor said, “You saw its true form. Why aren’t you insane as well?”

“I believe in life beyond Earth. I figure that you don’t, and you haven’t been believing for your entire life. It’s been my experience that when deeply rooted thoughts are proven incorrect, there are dire consequences. Some people are reborn and changed for the better. Others...others end up like you.”

Edgeworth sneered. “I don’t want to be a statistic...”

“Nothing statistic about it, my friend. Just an observation.”

The prosecutor was quiet for a while, then spoke very softly.

“You’re wise beyond your years, Phoenix.”

The defender was sincerely moved. He had never thought of himself as wise at all. To hear it coming from his friend and archrival...it was mind-boggling, and he suddenly understood why someone would have gone insane when his or her beliefs were proven false.

He struggled to recover from this mental gift by saying:

“I know for a fact that it doesn’t come from Earth. I have videotape.”

Edgeworth stood. “Where?”

“Larry’s house.”

“Larry? Why Larry?”

“It’s a long story, and it’ll be made clear when we get over there and watch the tape. Bring your car?”

“No. That would attract attention. I took a cab.”

“Then we’ll take another. Okay?”

“Yes.”

The two men left the office, went down to the street, and got into a cab. During the trip to Larry’s house, Phoenix noticed Edgeworth’s new insane eyes, but for some reason they did not frighten him. Perhaps it was their childhood bond that made Phoenix calm around Edgeworth, even with his madness, or their trust in each other ever since that case two years ago.

Or maybe it’s the sane people that are the true madmen, Phoenix thought.

It seemed like the right answer.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

To be continued.

Please review. Flames will be ignored and deleted. Constructive criticism is one of the few ways I can improve as a writer, so dish out your worst. We Nobodies are made of tough stuff.

I'd like this to be added to Court Records' Fanfiction page. I already Emailed sai Croik about that. Just a friendly reminder.

Thank you for reading.

If you'd like to see the other lame, unfinished stuff I do, please go here.

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...Wow.

I don't know what i'm supposed to say. I'm not very familiar with the works of Stephen King (or most horror writers, for that matter), but this story is creepy. Creepy in the good, awesome-prose-and-storytelling way, creepy in the I'm-going-to-shut-the-blinds-and-sleep-with-the-lights-on-tonight way.

I have to leave now; I'll be back to add more to this review, but to summarize: this story is brilliant and I want to read more.

EDIT: Ok, I'm back. :p

The quotes you used to introduce the story, while helpful once I realized their context and relevance, felt a bit much in that I thought there were too many of them. It's hard to say which one I recommend you drop, though, because I see how they all add to the story. Hmph.


The second half of Edgeworth's quote reads awkwardly to me. I'm not sure if it's because "tell me when you admit" sounds redundant in my head, or if there's a word missing (maybe a "will" between "you" and "admit"?).

Dark!Phoenix (for lack of a better name for this... thing) is very well written. I can all-too-clearly imagine his voice, dripping with some sort of bastardized mixture of glee, loathing, and sheer insanity.

The song lyrics you continue to throw in, much to my surprise (as I'm usually turned off by pop references in fanfiction), are both fitting and bizarrly enjoyable. I actually grinned when you threw in "There were no screams. There was no time." Assuming it's even from the song I'm thinking of, it's one of my favorite lines on the Demon Days album.

This is perhaps me misunderstanding the concept of a glammer, but I didn't fully understand how the alien could be "wearing" Phoenix if the real Nick was sitting in his closet, unscathed. I'm sure you'll cover this later, but I thought I should bring it up anyway.


I think "firey deaths" should be "a firey death," as you start the sentence talking about the them in the singular, but I feel like I'm being nitpicky. That paragraph and the two lines following it are amongst my favorites in the story.


And that would be my favortie passage thus far. I've never seen anyone attempt to describe the sensation of someone actually losing their mind, but a "pop" sounds oddly appropriate (even if the more common associated adjective seems to be "snapped"). I wish I could explain why.... :/


I'm not sure you can say he "was" masquerading as Nick, at least not in this context; I don't think the police ever saw him as Phoenix, yet the sentence seems to suggest the alien is still dressed as him when they barge in. It's a picky tense issue; my first idea was you should use "had been" instead, but unless it's emphasized that Edgeworth alone saw the costumed beast, it still sounds as though the police saw more than the alien in its true form.

I think I'm making too much of that line, though, and feel I'm the only one who took it that way.


Nothing huge here; just a missing space between "others" and "out". There's also one missing in the line "The moment was so perfectly humanthat Edgeworth found his thoughts."

*sigh* I have to leave again. This review is starting to get as long as the story itself. I have a thing or two to say about Real!Phoenix, and then I should be done (I hope).

I hope this wasn't too long winded....

Last edited by Officer 1BDI on Tue Jul 24, 2007 9:14 pm, edited 1 time in total.

Wow...that was good! is there going to be more?

---

Hm. Ecellent. Mori approves and is comteplating on whether to illustrate some scenes or not...

I look forward to see more!

---

Maya should show up.
Gumshoe should show up.
Franziska should show up.

Nice...

---

I'm back. Again. Sorry....


I know what you meant to say, but when I first saw "ignorance," I thought Phoenix was calling Edgeworth uninformed. ^_^' Dictionary.com says you're using the word correctly, but it still might be worthwhile to phrase it another way, like "ability to disregard blahblahblah."

I think you've kept Edgeworth very much in character, all events considered, but I admit that something feels off with the way you're writing Phoenix. In terms of his personality, I think you're spot on, but the way you have him word certain things doesn't strike me as in-character.


Nick's monologue sounds very stiff and formal in places, especially for someone describing an attack by a monster. Perhaps this is just my own interpretation of Phoenix, but I always pictured him to be much simpler than Miles in many ways, including speech. Those two final sentences, for example, are something I imagine coming from the latter's mouth, while I see Nick getting straight to the point with something along the lines of, "I'm kind of embarassed to admit this, but I've never been so scared in my life." There are other examples of this in the story, but this was the best I could find to try and explain what I mean.


Phoenix seems to draw this conclusion rather quickly (I would have rather he paused for a moment to think about it, but maybe he had that opportunity in the closet, or maybe his inner genius is shining through), but I think he brings up an excellent point, and for all intents and purposes, the theory certainly works. I'm only miffed by his conclusion that Edgeworth, having been driven to the opposite end of the spectrum he's drawing, apparantly cannot be "changed for the better." But perhaps I was reading too deep into that paragraph.

Gawd, I hope you found this helpful. I didn't mean for this to get so drawn out, but I wanted to try and give a decent critique, since I know how useful they can be.

---

After a meager four days, I have updated again! An eleven-page chapter in that short amount of time is unheard of from me, so it must be your replies that makes me work harder to make sure you are happy. I live to entertain.

I have read and understood all of your concerns and critiques, and I appreciate it. Your comments have been used to better shape this chapter.

So let's not waste any more precious time! On with the show!

And after this, you'll never look at whirlpools the same way again.

~Xilaa

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Edgeworth changed during the cab ride to Larry’s house. The twisted and distorted pathways of neurons in his head suddenly warped once more. The lights in his eyes became brighter, but also dreadful, like the shine of a lion’s eyes at night. The hand cupping the holster at his hip squeezed the leather holder spastically.

The taxi stopped in an upper class Westside neighborhood across the street from Larry’s house. Edgeworth got out immediately, leaving a surprised Phoenix to deal with payment. The driver had either mistaken Edgeworth for a cop, or was so used to transporting men with guns that he made no fuss.

The prosecutor hammered on the front door hard enough to shake it in its frame. As Phoenix ran across the street to catch up with him, a timid voice came from within.

“What’s the password?”

Phoenix began to speak, but Edgeworth simply held up the 9mm to the peephole.

“Password is: do you want to lose an eye?”

The voice from inside tittered in fear...and after a long, pregnant pause, there was a click! as the lock opened. Edgeworth shoved inside without any preamble, nearly knocking over Larry Butz himself, but Phoenix was quick and caught Larry before he could tumble.

Larry’s house wasn’t actually his. In his long history as a ladies’ man, his tastes in a woman’s personality and paycheck could care less, as long as the woman in question was beautiful. His latest conquest was a young female poet who had bought the house with her pen and paper. The poet herself was out at the moment, lecturing in Washington. Or so the story went.

The house’s den was spacious but sparse. It had two large bay windows that let in the twilight, and expensive curtains that kept it out. Said curtains were now being drawn and tied shut by Edgeworth. There was a large, flat screen TV that sat prettily off to a side.

While Larry Butz was not known for his temper, Edgeworth’s madness-induced rage seemed to spread through the room like a virus, and he was the first to be infected.

“Hey, pal,” Larry snapped, “Watch where you’re goin’!”

Edgeworth snarled like a wild animal and spun to face Larry.

“Don’t tempt me, peon,” Edgeworth hissed, “I’m not in control right now.”

“Peon!? Does that make you King of Bastardia?”

The prosecutor stormed towards Larry. Phoenix stepped in front, arms spread to protect him. The defender snarled, and the purple curtain in Edgeworth’s mind was blown open for a second, revealing the memory of the fake Phoenix’s horrible fangs. The prosecutor halted, but continued to glare at them both.

“Both of you, listen,” Edgeworth said, “I don’t think you understand the danger that we’re all in.” He paused to collect himself; his breathing was ragged and unstable. “Larry. Phoenix. You two have known me since we were children. It is difficult for me to say this, so pay attention.

“I am truly insane.

“Larry, since you’re a complete idiot, I will explain. The human brain is like a supercomputer on steroids. The common thought is that the brain is the best computer in the universe. I say brain because now we seem to know that there is...there are...”

Edgeworth was scared to find he could not finish his thought. His madness was preventing certain words from leaving his mouth. The experience was surreal and he began to wonder if insanity wasn’t just something he could learn to live with. As soon as he thought that, his feelings took another off-ramp on his mental highway and his rage, that had once threatened to blind his old friend, released him like a bird from a cage.

“Aliens,” Phoenix said, completing Edgeworth’s idea.

The prosecutor sighed with relief and ran a hand through his hair.

“Thank you,” he said, “In any case, these...these—”

“Aliens.”

“Thank you. They caused me to lose my mind. One of them murdered four bailiffs at the courtroom today. It enjoyed being bathed in their blood.”

Edgeworth’s hands rolled into fists that trembled with anger.

“I will not hesitate to exact revenge.”

The room was sickly silent for a moment, then Larry broke the quiet.

“Wait,” he said, “I once heard somewhere that crazy people don’t admit they’re crazy. You just did, so you’re lying. Edgey, we have known you for a long time, so why are you lying to us?”

“He’s not.”

The female voice surprised them all, and they turned to Maya Fey.

Maya was a medium-in-training, and since her departure to her hometown to learn more two years ago, she had become even stronger in her field. Edgeworth had seen her abilities with his own eyes. She was the real deal, and a very powerful individual.

But Maya was not herself tonight. Instead of the cheerful, bubbly adult she had grown into, she was quiet and somber. She was regarding the three men with a inspective eye that spoke of years of practice. Once satisfied with her assessment, she settled on a beige leather couch that sat in front of a bay window.

“Mr. Edgeworth is indeed insane,” Maya said, folding her hands together, “While I can’t read minds – yet – there is something about him that is not like you or me. It’s in the way he’s standing. It’s in his voice. It’s in his eyes. Larry, look at his eyes. It’s plain as day.”

Edgeworth held still so Larry could snake around Phoenix and stare into his eyes. It had been years since the prosecutor had been this close to his old friend, so he took the opportunity to scan Larry’s brown eyes. There was a spark in his eyes that spoke of a quick wit and a sense of survival that had kept his philandering behind on the right side of life.

This is a love attack, Edgeworth’s mind spat, I know it went out but it’s back.

He didn’t understand what that meant, but then Larry took a step backwards, fear evident in his eyes. He had seen Edgeworth’s madness, and was duly wary, but, like Phoenix, was calm around him.

After a pause, Larry said, “Okay, Edgey. I believe you. You’re crazy.”

Satisfied with his answer, Edgeworth addressed Phoenix. “The tape. Now.”

Phoenix made a discontent noise – he didn’t like Edgeworth’s tone – but fetched a large, black monstrosity from beside the television. It had a large lens, a microphone, a large view port, and was littered with tiny black and gray buttons. It had to weigh about five pounds.

The defender smirked, toying with the camera. “I got a ton of money after I got someone the not guilty verdict a few weeks ago. I got this baby for a hoot. It’s from the year 1990, can you believe it? It’s almost thirty years old, and still takes great pictures!”

Edgeworth crossed his arms. “You should put it out of its misery.”

Although that was meant as a joke, both Phoenix and Larry looked mortified at the very thought. Maya was silent. She was staring into space, disconnected with reality.

After that awkward moment, Phoenix started to hook up the contraption to the television. He was not the best at technology (the camera was older than he was), but this procedure was relatively straightforward. Soon the TV screen was a blank blue, and awaiting orders from the camera.

Edgeworth sat down where he was and Larry settled next to Maya on the couch.

Phoenix gave the group a look.

“Ready?”

Larry timidly held up a hand, then said, “Uh, Nick? What’s on this mystery tape?”

Phoenix bit his lip nervously, then replied, “You believe in aliens?”

“Yeah, sure, I’m a regular Star Trekkie.”

The defender forced himself to grin. “Then you’re gonna love this.”

He pressed play, and the screen came to life.

2

Despite being twenty-eight years old, the camera did take an admirable picture.

It was a sunny day. The camera was recording an empty street, two parked cars, the buildings across the asphalt, and the alley that sat in between. Then the world violently shifted to the left and Maya Fey took up most of the view.

Phoenix’s voice came on now.

“Hey, Maya, smile for the camera!”

Video Maya was a lot happier than in reality. She was beaming with joy.

“Geez, Nick, that thing’s ancient! Is it really recording?”

“Yeah, it came with tape. The camera loves you.”

“Really? Aw, such a good camera! What you lack in discreetness you make up for in heart. Can I hold it, Nick?”

“Yes, but be careful, it’s heavy.”

The picture rotated and spun wildly as the camera changed hands, and then it was Phoenix in the shot. The defender must have come directly from the courthouse; he was still wearing his suit and was carrying a briefcase. There was a row of old televisions to his left. The store they bought the camera in apparently specialized in old technology.

“It’s a great picture, Nick, even if it’s old.”

Phoenix responded by pulling a silly face, grinning.

“That’s gross, Nick. I’ll be sure to show it to your next client.”

The defender chuckled and reached for the camera again, and once more the picture danced crazily before settling out on Maya again. A man came up behind her and politely excused himself. The medium started to move as if to get out of the way, and so did Phoenix, and the picture violently shifted to the right this time...

Then suddenly jerked back to the left just a little bit and zoomed in.

It was recording the alley across the street.

Or, rather, what was in the alley.

“Nick? You feeling okay? You’ve gone pale.”

Phoenix’s voice was quiet and soft with fear. “Maya, be quiet, and get down.”

The picture edged in a little as Phoenix stepped forward, then became still as he set it down on the hood of a car. It was still recording the thing in the alley.

The thing was a dark purple vortex.

The vortex was standing on its side and swirling with every violet shade possible. It had no apparent source or power supply. And it was certainly not a human invention.

Maya’s voice was a whisper too. “Nick, what’s wrong?”

There was a pause, and then a gasp as Maya saw the vortex too.

“Oh my God, what is that...?”

Suddenly, three black tendrils erupted from the vortex. They loomed in the alley like apocalyptic monsters, then extended forward with blinding speed to snatch up three fully-loaded garbage cans. Their grip on the containers was shockingly powerful. The centers of the cans were being crushed, and garbage oozing from the top like a volcano. Then the three tendrils swept back inside the vortex with their booty, and it was over.

The camera kept recording even though Phoenix and Maya were stunned silent.

What happened next became a hallmark of humanity’s next great era.

An alien leapt from the vortex.

It was a dull greenish gray in color, and was entirely coated in scales. It had four long legs that ended in feet with two toes and an opposable thumb, a long whip-like tail, and a long neck. Its head was an oval with a squat bird beak. It had a shell-like structure on its back, though it was too flat to be of any purpose. Overall, the alien looked like a large evolutionary disaster of a tortoise, but there was a grace and power in the way it held itself that screamed big cat.

“Oh my God,” Video Phoenix murmured. Video Maya whimpered.

Then two more aliens were ejected from the portal, which vanished. They all looked at one another, then spoke. Their language was indecipherable, but they seemed to have reached an understanding, because they rose on their hind legs.

Then all three were enveloped in their own columns of green numbers.

Back in reality, everyone present was dead silent. Larry’s jaw hung open, eyes wide in horror. Maya was not watching the tape; she was still staring into space. Phoenix was watching, but there was a minute shiver in his body.

Edgeworth showed no emotion. He was too shocked to do anything.

He recognized what the green numbers were.

They were binary code.

The camera recorded the three aliens as the numbers began to affix themselves to their bodies. Each number changed color and texture. Some became human skin, some became hair, eyes, and ears, still others became cloth.

When the transformation was complete, there were no aliens in the alley.

Just three humans.

Two of them became men, the third was a woman. They all stepped out into the sun and began to compose themselves. One pulled out a cell phone, another slipped on sunglasses. The third checked the watch that had materialized along with his skin and clothing.

Then all three glanced at each other again...and grinned.

They all had rotten fangs. Not a flat tooth among the bunch.

Then they scattered in different directions. Their gait was imperfect, but to a passerby, they looked like any other human being.

The camera recorded an empty alley while Video Phoenix and Video Maya struggled to recover from their bewilderment.

“N-Nick, please t-tell me that w-w-wasn’t real.”

“Maya...”

The camera kept going for a few more seconds, then the picture froze.

3

Phoenix unplugged the camera from the TV and the screen went blue again.

“Edgeworth,” he said, “Those aliens...one of them attacked you, right?”

The prosecutor said nothing, just held his head in his hands and whined pitifully.

Larry shook his head rapidly, as if trying to shake the images in his mind away.

“Nick,” Larry said, “That’s unreal. That...can’t be real! It’s some kind of manipulation! It can be done, they do it in the movies, that’s all this is! It’s not real!”

Phoenix suddenly glared and cried, “Larry! Of course that was real! I was there! Maya was there! You saw me on the tape! You saw Maya! That was completely real! I have the camera right here, I have the tape, I have my own experiences, and if none of that can convince you, look at Edgeworth! He’s gone mad! Do you think that was due to something unreal!?”

While Phoenix had gotten mad at Larry in the past, (many times, in fact), he had never exploded like that. Larry was stunned...but knew in his heart of hearts that Phoenix never blew up like that for no reason.

“Okay,” Larry muttered, “I believe you. That was real. There are aliens on Earth.”

Edgeworth gave a violent shiver, and then he was back in control. His mad eyes were stony, and when he focused them on Phoenix the defender couldn’t help but flinch.

“No,” Edgeworth said, “None of that group attacked me.

“The...thing that attacked me, and you...had metal limbs.”

The room was deathly silent. Phoenix set the camera away and crossed to Larry and Maya. His presence seemed to comfort both of them, and Edgeworth felt a quick twinge of jealousy before shutting it down in its infancy.

“That’s how they get here, huh,” Edgeworth said, “Through portals.”

“That seems to be it,” Phoenix said, “I’m sure there are more all over the city, but I don’t know if there are any right this second. I think they come and go.”

“Why do you say this?”

“After that episode, I took it on myself to start to hunt the portals. I thought I was being sneaky and stealthy, but I guess I wasn’t... I’m sure that’s how they found out who I was. One of them saw me watching for the portals. From there, they somehow got the address of my office, and the rest is history.”

Edgeworth snarled. “If they know about you, and they know about me, do they know the rest of our friends and acquaintances? Will they attack Detective Gumshoe, for instance, or my sister Franziska?” He stood and turned to Larry. “How long have you stayed in this house?”

Larry recoiled, surprised, and said, “Little over a week.”

The prosecutor spun back onto Phoenix. “Why is Maya here?”

Phoenix also flinched. “I sent her here four days ago. I was worried she would get hurt if she tagged along with me while I was portal hunting.”

“You were locked in the closet for two days, those being today and yesterday. You sent her away in the nick of time, Wright. I know you have a knack for being lucky, but I don’t believe you had a hunch this time.”

Phoenix glanced at Maya, sighed, and said, “She told me to keep her here.”

Edgeworth turned onto the medium. “Why?”

Maya looked up at him sullenly and said, “I sensed him coming.”

It was Edgeworth’s turn to be surprised. He stepped back and glared at Maya. “You sensed...that thing!? You can feel them coming!?”

“Yes. They have a strange aura around them. I don’t know if I can read their minds, but I can sense what they’re feeling. Four days ago, I felt a really bad sense of foreboding. It was terrible. I knew then that Nick was in danger.”

“Why didn’t you tell him?”

“I did.” She looked at Phoenix. “You cared more about my safety than your own.”

Phoenix blushed and looked down. “Maya...sometimes I feel like you’re a sister to me. We’re eight years apart, but...you seem to be just the kind of person a little sister would be. You know...uh...I’m not sure how a big brother should act, I’m kinda flying blind, but...yeah. Sorry. I never thought I had to explain this to you.”

Maya finally cracked a small smile. “Oh, Nick...”

Edgeworth groaned, breaking the loving atmosphere. “You make me sick. There are man-killing aliens roaming around, and you two are gushing romantic over how brother-sister you are with each other. This is disgusting, I think I need to throw up. Where’s your bathroom, Lar—”

Maya suddenly gasped, hands flying to her face. Phoenix was at her side in an instant, while Edgeworth nimbly stepped away, surprised. The medium grabbed onto Phoenix’s shirt and used her own weight to knock him over.

She screamed:

“Everyone get down!”

A split second later, something came sailing through the window and curtain, splattered against the far wall like a rotten fruit, and rolled to a stop in the middle of the room. It was a pinkish red object that looked similar to an enormous jelly bean.

Then it exploded.

Edgeworth was thrown against the TV. While it broke his fall, it toppled over with a loud whumph that was accented by the growing roar of the fires set by the explosion. The curtains, couches, and carpets were blazing.

Maya was screaming. Her shirt had caught aflame as well, and Phoenix was violently swatting at the flames to put them out.

Then the prosecutor realized that he was alone on one side of the den, while Larry, Maya, Phoenix, and any means of escape was on the other, blocked by a wall of blazing heat.

Once Maya was extinguished, Phoenix turned to help Edgeworth, but he reached the same conclusion as the prosecutor. Unlike Edgeworth, he still tried to assist him, but Larry managed to restrain him before the defender could rush into the flames as they grew higher and hotter.

“Edgeworth!” Phoenix howled, struggling against Larry.

“Phoenix!” Larry cried, holding firm, “The house is on fire! We gotta go, now!”

The defender continued to yell as Larry dragged him out.

Edgeworth was alone in the burning house.

His madness was screaming in every shade of emotion, and he felt like crying and screaming and laughing all at once. His brain was playing tricks on his eyes, and the rising flames started to look more like fanged monsters with metal legs from the shoulder down, ending with horridly sharp talons. The flames were eating away at the purple curtain in his mind, and Edgeworth knew then that he was going to fall into shock again, it was inevitable, and there would be no singing nurses to bring him back from the madness.

Then a voice in his head, ancient and commanding, came through clearly.

Get away from my son!

It was not Edgeworth’s voice, he could not place where he had heard it, but it was a memory, an old, dark memory that spurred his feet and hands to get his body off the TV and back into the present time.

The prosecutor scanned the room madly. There seemed to be nothing that was not on fire. The flames were licking the ceiling, and somewhere a smoke alarm went off. The blaring screech was joined by several others until the whole house seemed to have sunk into Hell.

Then he realized there were two windows. One was broken.

The other was not.

While Edgeworth wasn’t an interior decorator, his sense of survival decided that the two windows had to match.

He backed off, took a running leap, and crashed through the window.

Edgeworth wasn’t a stuntman either. His landing was awkward, and while he had protected his face instinctually, he howled in agony as a long splinter of glass dug into his arm and drew a river of blood. Several other shards had bitten into his legs and torso, and he regretted leaving his armor in Phoenix’s office.

He got up just in time to see a shadowy paw dash around the burning house.

An alien paw.

Edgeworth had the gun in his hand in an instant, and gave chase, ignoring the blasting furnace beside him as he dove through bushes and shrubs. His madness shut down any emotion other than outrage and a bitter need for vengeance.

But it wasn’t enough. The cat-like grace the aliens exhibited in Phoenix’s video apparently gave them enough power to outrun any human. All Edgeworth could see of his quarry was dark glimpses that he shot at anyway, even if all he hit was the asphalt.

Phoenix, Maya, and Larry suddenly came into view, but Edgeworth ran past them without a second glance. The three of them were shocked at the once withdrawn and quiet prosecutor’s reappearance. Then they began to follow him, sprinting just to keep him in sight.

Phoenix started to scream Edgeworth’s name, but it hardly registered. The alien had turned onto a large street, and while the moonlight could not fully illuminate it, its whole body was visible, and that was enough for the prosecutor to get a target on.

But then the vortex appeared.

It winked into existence in milliseconds, a large purple portal to another world, a place that could be the very bane of humanity’s existence, a place were the air could be toxic or the inhabitants hostile or the home of alien disease that could wipe out the human race—

Edgeworth only had one thought in his mind.

Dear God, please don’t let me miss.

He held the gun up at the alien just as it began to leap into the portal, and fired.

Both alien and bullet traveled through, and then the portal started to close.

Edgeworth hit the brakes, but his momentum kept him going, and he dropped the gun and started to scream as the purple vortex grew larger and larger in his sight—

And then he too went though the portal.

Phoenix, Maya, and Larry all tumbled in like dominoes just as the portal slipped shut and vanished from the Earth street.

The inhabitants of the neighborhood, awakened either by the smoke alarms or the gunshots, later told themselves that what they had witnessed could not have been real.

4

The first humans on a different planet entered very dramatically.

They fell all over each other.

Edgeworth was squished on the bottom as Phoenix, Maya, and Larry fell on top in a large dog pile that pushed all the air out of his lungs and dug the glass splinter harder into his arm. He cried out in pain, and shook them off. The sudden shock snapped his mind back into some kind of order.

Larry rolled onto his back and placed a hand over his eyes, moaning.

“Geez, what the hell was that?” he whined, “I feel like I was hit by a truck.”

“You aren’t the only one,” Phoenix agreed, stretching his limbs.

“Me three,” Maya piped up. She sounded much more like her usual self.

“I think my lungs exploded,” Phoenix continued, sitting up, “What about you, Edgeworth? Edgeworth? Hey, Miles, what’s the ma—”

The defender stopped in mid-sentence. His jaw dropped open and his eyes grew wide as he took in the sight that had already captured Edgeworth’s attention.

Maya crawled to his side and also began to stare.

Larry was still oblivious, even though he got up and was by the others. “Hello! Hey, guys, can someone explain to me what happened? I mean, my girlfriend’s gonna be so mad when she finds out her house burned down—”

Edgeworth suddenly struck out, grabbed Larry’s chin, and forced him to look.

Larry became the fourth human to see an alien city.

The group was standing on a cliff hundreds of feet above the ground below, and in the distance was the city. It was dark, but they could make out large buildings that rivaled any human skyscraper. The structures seemed to be made out of stone, but gave the impression of incredible strength.

The entire city was nestled in one of many trenches in the earth. The massive crevices were easily Grand Canyon scale, perhaps even bigger. Some of these trenches had huge, navy blue columns stretching up to what appeared to be a black, starless sky.

The humans simply stared at the alien landscape for what seemed like hours.

It was Larry who broke the silence.

“Eew, the floor is sticky.”

Edgeworth looked down and noticed that the ground was indeed sticky. A dark liquid had been spilled here, and the way it was positioned indicated a gunshot wound.

His shot had not missed after all.

The dark fluid made a trail down the steep slopes of the cliff face.

Edgeworth looked at the city beyond, and then a breeze brushed past his face. The air was not toxic, it seemed, but had a damp scent in it, like after an Earth rainstorm.

Smells like an adventure, he thought, not without some amusement.

The prosecutor began to follow the trail of alien blood down the cliff. Phoenix, Maya, and Larry in turn followed him, securing Edgeworth’s new and permanent title of Expedition Leader.

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A new world is discovered, and a madman is the first to begin to explore it. What does that mean?

How will the natives react?

Find out on the next episode of Truth!

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This is really awesome.

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I just wanted to use this quote to springboard the following thought: I loved the interactions between Edgeworth and Larry in this chapter, because even over the brink of insanity, it still seems in character for Edgey to react to Larry with such a short fuse. He's just taking it to the extreme now. ;)

I really like how Phoenix is portrayed in this chapter (I thought his attempt to go after Edgeworth while the house was ablaze was spot on), and even somber!Maya struck me as realistic. Everyone seems very much in character here.



If they do go after Fr'iska, I look very much forward to Edgeworth's reaction against them. I do hope you bring her into the story at some point, if only because she's my favorite character. :P



I'm not sure if you meant for that to be Gregory or some other person, but either way I don't think you meant for the identity to be obvious so I won't question it further right now. I'm intrigued where you're taking this, though, in light of Edgeworth's past "experience" with these aliens.

I'm eager to see more of this alien worls, let alone figure out why there seem to be two alien "species" involved here. I can't wait for the next chapter.

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This is some awesome stuff, my friend. I love Stephen King's stuff. xD I also like how you stick in those song quotes at random, very good.

I can't wait for more! >.<

That's freaking sweet, man. :D It had me on the edge of my seat the whole time, just wondering what the hell's gonna happen next.

That was awesome, can't wait for more.

I love this!

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Who's back...? I'm back....

I have good news and bad news.

Good news: Truth lives.

Bad news: It's dead.

A few days ago, my hard drive crashed and everything was destroyed. All my stories, my artwork, my music, everything. Gone. Truth was one of these. You heard me right, Truth is gone from my computer. Luckily, I have sources where the last two chapters were posted, so I can get it back.

Unfortunately, I had a partial third chapter, and that's gone with no hope of recovery.

That's where you come in.

If you haven't read the first two chapters yet, please do so. I want your feedback. Let me know what I screwed up on, how I can improve...and then let me know what you'd like to see in the third chapter. At this point, Truth has a definitive ending (not telling, lol), but I have no clue how to get there. So give me some ideas. Want some romance? Sure. Want more blood and guts? But of course.

Truth's future lies in your hands, members of CR. Treat her well.

~Xilaa

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