a/n: i've already uploaded this on ao3, but it's up on good ol' for those who are interested! if you'd like this and would like to see more chapters, please do not hesitate to leave me a review. it can be a few words or none, but please leave a review if you enjoyed it!

Chapter 1: Ex Parte

It all started on on that day, when Phoenix caught sight of a familiar name flickering onto his television screen.

That name was only all too familiar. Phoenix had spent the better half of a decade writing that very name at the beginning of nearly every letter he wrote. When all he got in return was the feeling that something was horribly wrong, he sometimes wavered and wondered if it was worth his time or energy.

After all, there was nothing he could do about it. Phoenix was forced to accept that he might not be able to see that person again.

The lingering feelings of uncertainty and bitterness slowly ebbed away as Phoenix continued to listen to the news broadcast.

"… And that concludes the list of recruitments of the Jaegar Programme in 2016. While the war against the kaiju only seems to worsen with time, the government is now requiring all high school graduates and college graduates to undergo an additional examination after their respective final papers."

Phoenix's eyes widened.

Edgeworth… is going to pilot a jaegar?

Phoenix sat down on one of the common hall couches and lowered the television volume once he realized the segment was over.

Once the shock wore off, the confusion began to set in.

The more he thought about it, the more he didn't get it. At first, he thought maybe that he was selected since the examinations were now a requirement. But… Miles had been recruited some time ago, and the list had just been released. That meant he had taken the exam of his own volition.

That meant…

Edgeworth wants to fight for the country.

It was true that the Miles of his childhood had wanted to be a defense attorney, but that was different. It was different because it was before this war on humanity had began.

Phoenix heaved a sigh as the memories came flooding back. He remembered sitting with Larry in his middle school math class when the news first got out. All the children had scrambled for their phones, ignoring their teacher's futile protests to remain calm.

The things he saw… he could have never imagined. It was like something that had come out of some cheesy comic book, except it wasn't like any type of drawing he had seen before. That was probably because it was completely and utterly real. No one could have imagined anything like that.

No one could imagine a monster that looked like that.

The attack was in their neighboring city of San Francisco. That wasn't them. The teachers confiscated as many phones as they could, and declared that the rest of the day would continue as planned.

However, their efforts to control the children were in vain. How could one concentrate on algebra when there was a gigantic monster on the loose taking lives by the minute?

Eventually, a news report was released later on that day. The monster had been killed, but with great effort. Many lives were lost. Many resources were lost. If anything like that ever happened again, it would not be feasible to fight them in the same manner.

The key word being if.

There was a long gap afterwards, where everyone did their best to forget it ever happened, as if it was better that way.

And then, the monsters returned.

After a series of attacks that were hard fought and becoming increasingly worse, it was clear that something bigger and better was needed. Thus, the Jaegar Programme was born. It was the culmination of a few smart engineers, a long meeting between the world's leaders and a few willing sponsors. Jaegars were gigantic robots that were to be co-piloted by two trained rangers with the objective of killing kaiju (which was the name that had been coined for the beasts). That's the extent that Phoenix knew, anyhow. There was a lot more involved that a common college student like him wouldn't exactly know about.

Regardless, he remembered watching the fights on television some years ago. It seemed that humanity had finally gained some traction.

Phoenix unlocked his phone and idly opened one of his many time-wasting social media apps to discover yet another news article about a kaiju attack in South Carolina. The Black Tyrant, famously operated by a brilliant set of twins who had accumulated a number of wins over the past couple of years, was the jaegar to kill it.

I wonder what it would be like if I got in one of those things.

Phoenix smiled incredulously at the thought. It seemed comical, the idea of him in some giant robot, just desperately trying not to die. Then, he pictured Larry in the contraption next to him and couldn't help but snort.

Yeah, completely ridiculous.

Still, Phoenix couldn't help but wonder. If Miles Edgeworth was going to pilot a jaegar, that surely meant him or Larry (or at least just him) could do it. In the very least, they could join as general officers to help with the war or something.

The more Phoenix thought about it, the less it seemed that it was out of his reach. He enjoyed the arts, but he realized that it would be even more amazing if he managed to qualify in the examinations and be able to become a part of the Jaegar Programme. What if Larry saw Miles' name in the news and thought of the same thing?

…Probably not. I'm giving Larry too much credit.

He clenched and unclenched his fist, listening to the low murmur of the news in the empty common hall. It was his decision to make. He had no one who would oppose the decision: as far as he knew, his parents would not object.

And I could see Edgeworth again.

The topic of Miles Edgeworth was a very private one for Phoenix, one that not many besides Larry knew about. It wasn't just that he missed his old friend — of course, he did. It was that the circumstances surrounding his disappearance were very curious. It didn't make any sense. There were rumors, too. Rumors that he was adopted by some political bigwig with the intention of being some type of successor.

And the most curious thing of all: the fact that Miles went out of his way to ignore him. The friend he knew wouldn't do something like that. He was purposefully trying to shut him out. Of course, it hurt, but Phoenix was more concerned about the other party.

What had happened to Miles to want to block out everyone from his past?

He didn't even know what university the other man went to, so he could never even attempt to find him or seek him out. The only knowledge he had of Miles' whereabouts was that he had moved to Germany, and it's not like he could afford a ticket to Europe at any given moment.

I guess there's only one way to find out.

Phoenix clenched his fist and made a decision.

One year later, Phoenix returned to Los Angeles.

During his senior year at Ivy University, the required additional examinations were still held just as planned. Phoenix hadn't really studied for it because he wasn't sure what to expect. He didn't exactly have a plethora of resources to check from, anyway.

It didn't matter, though, because it seemed to be an aptitude test. It wasn't anything any student could exactly prepare for, especially if they were still set on pursuing their career from whatever degree they had chosen to complete that year.

Surprisingly, Phoenix was called back for the next exam. Out of nearly ten thousand students, very few were called back. Even some of the most intelligent students of his class, with the highest marks, did not qualify for the next round. Phoenix almost felt like an intruder when he walked into the next examination, the sole purpose of which was to whittle down the qualifying students even further.

The testing had lasted just a few more rounds. There were all kind of tests beyond written or theory. There were problem solving situations, realistic simulations to test quick thinking, and even physical examinations. These were rather unique, for they weren't like any gym class that Phoenix had ever been to.

It had eventually whittled down to Phoenix and two other women from a different department. Both of them were from pre-med. He still couldn't shake that feeling of beginner's luck, though it was far past the beginning at that point.

They had sent all the candidates to the training center in Alaska. Braving the bitter cold on a daily basis had been a challenge on its own for Phoenix, who was used to sweltering summers and relatively mild winters.

He managed, though. When he had time, he'd video call his parents. He even remembered to message Larry, who he'd never actually told that he'd become a part of the Jaegar Programme. He wasn't sure how exactly to break the news to him, but Phoenix figured it'd be better if it was in person, or at least over phone call. Larry, for some odd reason or another, always seemed rather busy.

The year had passed by, and Phoenix allowed his mind to return to the present, where he was standing in front of the L.A. Shatterdome. Phoenix couldn't help gaping internally while he took in the sight of the enormous building. His awed expression stared back at him, a reflection seen in the glimmering, polished exterior.

Once he entered inside, he was ushered to his dorm room by the assisting officers and told to settle in. Phoenix didn't have much to do, however, besides unpacking his measly bag with minimal belongings. For a supposedly "sentimental" young man (his parents' words, not his), he didn't have too many mementos.

Phoenix threw his clothes haphazardly into the bedside drawers and stuffed his toiletries into one of the tiny shelves in the one person bathroom. The room was quite plain and small. That probably didn't matter though, because it wasn't as if he was going to spend most of his time in it, anyway. He tossed his empty bags aside and fell onto the bed, limbs splayed out.

Now what?

With an exasperated puff of air he flipped over onto his stomach to pick up his phone that was currently charging. He had spoken to his parents on his last day of training at the academy, but there wasn't much time between getting discharged and boarding his flight back to L.A. He debated calling them back again, but he wasn't sure what his schedule for the remainder of the day was.

He wondered what it would be like from here on out. The one year spent in Alaska had always kept him on his toes; he was so exhausted at the end of each day he'd pass out as soon as he reached his bed. At least he got a sound eight hours of sleep there, though.

This wasn't training anymore. The kaiju wouldn't care about his sleeping schedule.

But besides that… I'm finally going to pilot a jaegar. I… wonder who I'll be with.

Phoenix mulled over the thought, a certain name floating around in his mind that he didn't want to admit to anyone yet.

Luckily, he did not have to ponder it further. An officer came to knock at his door to inform him to head to the second floor's training hall.

It was time to find his partner.

The fightmaster overseeing the compatibility tests for piloting was named Mia Fey. Phoenix thought she was quite beautiful (though most likely several years older than him) and stared at her dumbly before he realized who she was, and that she was talking to him.

"Wright? Are you hearing me? I asked you to step into the ring."

Phoenix shook his head, deciding it would be a bad idea to make a fool himself this early on in the game. "Right."

He was tossed a long wooden fighting stick. He grasped it firmly before tossing it around opposite hand to opposite hand, getting a feel for the instrument.

"This will be your opponent," Mia announced as another man stepped into the ring.

Phoenix had around one second to look up to witness his opponent flying at him. With one swift dodge and a blow to their gut, the match was over very quickly, Phoenix emerging victorius.

He was introduced to several other pilots following this match, with Phoenix losing or winning quite evenly. He discovered that it didn't matter whether he won or lost, for the one common factor was that each of the matches ended quickly.

If this person was to be your potential co-pilot, they needed to be compatible enough to complement your fighting style. If they couldn't stay in the ring with you for more than five minutes, they probably wouldn't be able to synchronize their brains with yours in a gigantic metal robot.

This process was important for that very reason. A jeager was to be piloted by two rangers, as one brain alone could not handle the neural link. Just as a computer contains multiple cores, the enormous Jaegar could only be operated by at least two pilots.

When Phoenix was done, he stood off to the side and joined the audience and other rangers to view the ongoing matches in the ring. He observed how varied all the fighting styles seemed to be, despite the fact that all of these people had trained in the same academy as him. Some were more defensive, some incorporating more martial arts, others relying on brute force.

In the end, they were all informed that they were to meet back tomorrow in on the fourth floor's Simulation Room. This is where they would attempt what was known as a "neural handshake". If this connection was established, the two would then be compatible and able to co-pilot a jaegar.

"Dismissed." Mia opened up a holographic screen towards the side of the room and begin entering information while everyone dispersed and filed out of the room, most likely for showers and a much-needed lunch break.

Phoenix stood silently, unmoving, staring curiously at Mia.

"Uh, hello… Chief?"

Phoenix approached her while she continued working with the screen in front of her, fingers delicately sliding away.

"Wright, was it?" she replied after giving him a quick glance and returning to her task.

"Um… yeah. I was wondering if it's possible if you could tell me who I matched with?"

Mia seemed to not hear him for a few moments. Before Phoenix could repeat himself, she replied, "Simmons, Waterlow, and Parson."

Phoenix felt his high hopes deflate a little. "Oh. Right. Thank you!"

Mia finally turned to face him, giving him a friendly smile. "Any time. I'm always here if you have questions or need help."

Phoenix raised his eyebrows, not expecting the sudden shift in personality. No one in the course of training was really openly friendly to him. He figured it was so that they maintained their whole rough regimen and so that no one went "soft."

Mia seemed to read his thoughts and chuckled. "Don't worry, I revert to being approachable outside of the teaching setting."

Phoenix smiled in return, unsure of what to say. She seemed nice, though, so he figured he ought to try making some sort of conversation.

"I actually also always wondered how this system of matching people works," Phoenix finally said, grateful he had thought of something. "How do you input it into the system?"

"Well, we actually have a lot more data of you guys than you would think. All the times you were in a training simulation during your time at the academy, that was recorded. There's information on the aspects to your fighting style, emotional responses to situations, and logical reasoning abilities. It's a little tech based, and a little bit of me messing around with what I think would work."

Phoenix didn't know how he felt about a computer knowing more about himself than he did, but he nodded and stored the information away.

"You actually tend to lay low and strike in the last minute, when unexpected. It's interesting," Mia remarked, pulling up Phoenix's profile on the screen.

Phoenix's curiosity moved him closer to the screen, trying to take in what was displayed. He could understand about half of it. A lot of it seemed to be in code.

"Anyway, if you're worried about not matching with anyone, don't. It always takes time, and you're not alone," Mia reassured.

Phoenix looked to the side, realized she had assumed the wrong thing. "Haha, yeah…" he murmured sheepishly.

"Anyways, you should go get cleaned up and finish up your lunch break. You've got a busy rest of the day ahead of you."

Phoenix groaned internally, realizing he was just beginning to feel the body ache creep up his back and limbs.

The cafeteria was much different than the one at the academy. The L.A. Shatterdome was very impressive on the exterior, and all of the equipment was top-notch, but this place seemed very lack-luster in comparison.

The paint was peeling off the walls and the floor was an unappealing shade of yellow-green. The harsh fluorescent lighting didn't do much to help make it better, either.

He stood in line, got his tray, and surveyed the room to find a place to sit. There seemed to be a bunch of groups already, and there weren't many empty tables since he came late.

Phoenix sighed, feeling his spirits dampen further.

I guess I don't have the same drive I did earlier when I threw myself into training at the Academy. What's the point of all of this if I just get up, sit alone, and "fight for my country" if I don't get to see… see…

He felt the frustration bubble up to his throat. He swallowed and shook his head, trying to clear his mind. He was told before that his inability to control his emotions predisposed him to acting irrationally and unsafely. Since then, he had learned to swallow back his anger and frustration.

Luckily, he found a table with another lone figure.

Great. At least we can both be alone in peace.

Phoenix plopped his tray unenthusiastically on the table and sat down, not sparing the other stranger a glance, too wrapped up in his own thoughts.

Though as much as he tried to ignore the feeling, it left a bad taste in his mouth. Phoenix idly stirred a spoon in his soup as he tried to remind himself it would be okay, and that he'd be fine, and that…

The stranger across from him cleared their throat.

Phoenix looked up.

Miles Edgeworth's face stared back at him.