A/N: Spoilers for PW: AA.

Late Morning.

"All rise!"

"Court is now in session for the trial of Jeffrey Master. Is the defense and prosecution ready to begin?" barked an old man with a rather long, grey beard.

Miles sat in the gallery above his father's bench, watching the trial intently. This was what he dreamed of being, a defense attorney like his father.

"The defense is ready to begin, Your Honor," spoke the man who inspired him.

Across the courtroom stood a older man, perhaps 10 or 12 years his father's senior. Miles managed to keep himself from chuckling at the man's outfit. He was dressed in a deep indigo suit with a obnoxious plum and gold waistcoat. To finish his look, he wore a rather ridiculous-looking cravat.

"And you, Mr. von Karma?"

"Perfectly prepared, naturally."

"Then, please give your opening statement."

-x-

The trial then began. He watched as his father and von Karma fight in a battle of logic and deduction. Miles tried to find the contradictions himself, but his father would always vocalize what the contradiction was first. In the end, the trial ended with a guilty verdict. Miles frowned as the verdict was handed down. However, Father revealed that the prosecutor had presented a falsified autopsy report and coerced a confession out of the defendant, causing a penalty on von Karma's so claimed perfect record.

He grabbed the notebook he'd taken for notes and left his seat in the gallery to meet his father in the defendant's lobby. He rushed down the stairs and entered the room, noticing a somber tone between the attorney and client. He patiently waited for his father to finish his conversation before joining him.

"You were great out there, Father."

"Thank you Miles. You can't win them all, but I still feel that Mr. Master is innocent. Now come, let's head home."

Miles nodded at the senior Edgeworth as the father and son headed to the elevators.

-x-

They entered the elevator with a bailiff, short greetings were exchanged.
As we made our descend, the elevator began to shake. Miles gripped onto the wall, his silver irises darting towards his father. The man himself looked shocked as he was gripping the wall as well.

The bailiff who accompanied them had a panicked look across his face, but luckily the shaking minimize, however the elevator wasn't continuing its descendent. The small compact room that was the elevator seemed smaller than it was before. Miles felt a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach.

He continued to feel that for hours.

Hours after the earthquake struck, his head felt dizzy and could feel himself losing consciousness. He was about to drift to sleep when his eyes flared open at the sound of someone's raging voice.

"Stop breathing my air!" the bailiff cried, grabbing the senior Edgeworth by the collar.

"You're taking my air! Stop!"

Miles' father somehow remained calm. With a steady voice, he responded with, "Sir, please calm down. The situation is bad enough already."

Their arguing scared the young boy and as he tried to stop himself from shaking, his hand rested upon an object. His silver eyes darted to the machine brushing his fingertips, a bailiff's pistol. He then looked back at the fighting adults, the bailiff getting more aggressive every passing second.

Miles wrapped his fingers around the pistol, his eyes fixed on the bailiff's back.

"Please..."

"Don't hurt my father!"

He launched the pistol at the bailiff, his eyes blacking out just as a gunshot and a loud, hoarse scream rang out.

-x-

The prosecutor was exiting the evidence room, his mind whirling with the fact that he, the perfect prosecutor for 25 long years, had his flawless record tarnished by some scum defense attorney.

He huffed to himself as he rummaged through case files and evidence.

After a while, he decided to head home and prepare for his upcoming trials. He stuffed the evidence he needed from the evidence room and walked out towards the elevators. It was still dark as the blackout was still in effect. He passed a elevator, heading towards the stairs.

"Damn that Gregory Edgeworth, it's because of h-" he muttered to himself until he felt a searing pain race through his right shoulder.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAUGH" he screamed out and as if by his own doing, the power flicked back on and the elevator door opened.

Inside he saw three unconscious people, one a young boy, one a court bailiff, and one just happened to be the man who destroyed his perfect record. A pistol laid next to the bailiff, tempting him.

It was almost too perfect.

Weakly, he reached for the pistol and pointed it at the defense attorney.

Smirking, he said, "Good riddance."

A second gunshot rang out that day and it would change many lives for years to come.

-x-

When the boy's silver eyes flickered open, he wasn't in the elevator. He scanned his surroundings, trying to determine where he was.

Flowers.

IV.

A large, colorless bed.

It became increasingly clear that he was in a hospital. He sat out, vocalizing his need for a nurse. He wanted to see his father, maybe he could explain why he was here.

He just wanted to see his father.

A nurse soon entered his room, a plastic smile adorning her face. Her faux smile made Miles' cringe. Deception always had unnerved him, as his father taught him to always be truthful.

"Yes, sir? Are you in need of something?"

"I wish to see my father."

Miles noticed the nurse's face visibly pale. He gave her a confused and concerned look.

"Ah! Y-yes. I will get the doctor, he will tell you-ah... when your father can come visit," she stuttered as she quickly escaped the room. The whole ordeal made Miles feel a sinking pit in his stomach, similar to what he felt in the elevator. He curled his legs to his chest as he waited for the doctor to come, hopefully with his father in toe.

Later, the doctor did come in, but alone. Miles watched him pull a chair next to him, a grim expression upon his wrinkled face.

"Son, I don't know how-" the man began before being cut off by the young boy.

"I'm ready to see my father. When can he come visit?"

The two met eyes, a look of sympathy swirling in his deep brown eyes.

"I'm so sorry, but your father cannot come visit you."

Miles' face contorted into a look of mild annoyance.

"How come? He's my father! I would-"

He's passed on, my boy. I'm so very sorry for your loss."

Miles froze, his eyes laced with the realization that the doctor provides. No, that can't be. His father was everything to him, why would the world do such a cruel thing? He won't never be able to work alongside his father as a defense attorney. He won't be able to hear his thundering voice, his piercing, yet soft gaze, or feel his comfort when he needed it most.

The orphaned boy's cry rang throughout that hospital on the late evening of December 28, 2001.