This story contains spoilers for Dual Destinies.
XOXOXOX
The Phantom could not understand why the conclusion reached was always the same.
People heard "little emotional fluctuation" and immediately assumed that he had the emotional capabilities of a rock - which was to say, none whatsoever.
And while certainly, on the normal scale of human emotional capacity, this might appear to be the case… truthfully, he was not completely unfeeling.
Just almost.
And on top of that, he had a particularly good grasp on what emotional fluctuations he did experience. Or at least, he had in the past. Until they had ripped away the layers covering his utter terror at the prospect of being assassinated for the crimes of his past. They had forced him to confront it head on - but confront it, he could not. The life he had chosen was a life of utter isolation. The binding ties that kept those three lawyers going even in the darkest of times were ties he knew nothing of. As far as he'd always been concerned, loyalty was just a farce. A pretense made for one's own benefit, to be dropped the moment things turned stormy. And yet…
And yet.
Even in Apollo Justice's weakest moments, filled with doubt and distrust toward Athena Cykes, he was desperately searching for her innocence. He fought against his instinctive suspicion of her guilt, reached out two his two companions for their support, their aid in his own inner battles. And in the end, he had won. They had won.
Phoenix Wright, more than anyone else that had set foot in a courtroom, never lost sight of his faith in his client. Even despite his faith having been utterly betrayed by a client in the past - a tidbit that the Phantom had picked up through his research into the man in the blue suit - he believed to the end, every time. And that constant, undying faith dragged the truth, slowly but surely, into the bright light of day - no matter how obscured it may have been.
Athena Cykes… a girl who had run after Simon Blackquill for seven long years - training, studying, practing every day, taking exams in Europe to become a lawyer at the tender age of 18, never losing sight of her goal: to prove the innocence of a man who was said to have murdered her own mother. And then, having proven Simon innocent, she was forced to face the prospect of having committed the murderous act with her own two hands. But Phoenix and Apollo, together, had led her out of that darkness. They had unlocked the chains of fear that had bound her memories and her heart.
Despite the freshly opened wounds that must have torn at her that day, in that crumbled courtroom, Athena had ended her battle in court standing tall - shoulders squared, back straight, and eyes gazing determinedly forward.
And Simon Blackquill had taken the blame for his beloved mentor's death - had knowingly accepted a death sentence of his own - to save a little girl.
The Phantom could understand none of this. He knew a little of anger, a little of happiness, a little of fear. But to feel something for another human being - particularly to feel so strongly that you would go to any lengths for them - was an entirely foreign concept.
The Phantom lived to survive.
Humans liked the notion that they were somehow superior to animals. They liked to romanticize human civilization - great loves, daring adventures, undying friendships.
Great battles for justice.
But the world was a cruel place. People lied, manipulated, hurt, and killed - for love, for hate, for greed, for power. The weak fell prey to the strong. It was survival of the fittest. And he'd always intended to survive.
Yet some small part of him had always wondered. 'Why?' Why survive? Why go on trying to live, when he had nothing in particular he wanted? On those rare occasions when that irritating little voice burrowed its way to the surface of his thoughts, he did everything within his capacity for controlling his emotions to rebury it immediately. The thoughts made him feel even lower than an animal.
No better than a simple virus, living on for the sole sake of living.
And watching the team that had brought about his downfall had made him wonder if maybe, just maybe… a short life lived full of emotion wasn't a better alternative than a long one lived as an empty shell.
Of course, now that he had more time than ever to consider the thought, it was too late to find out.
He'd finally been unmasked for the faceless ghost of seven years ago. He'd finally lost in the fight to be one of the "fittest."
Survival was no longer an option within his grasp.