*Thank you to changeofheart for writing this whole story with me! XD*

Prologue

Prosecutor Edgeworth chooses death.

Miles Edgeworth thought that the note was succinct and to the point. There was no need to write something long and drawn out. He wanted no sympathy from others; he just wanted to end his wretched life and stop his own pain along with the pain he was sure he caused many others over the years.

He laid the note carefully on the top of his desk, and then opened a drawer. He reached in and pulled out the pistol he kept there, usually for his own protection. He chuckled in dark humor as he decided he would be protecting the rest of the world from himself now.

The gun weighed heavily in his hand as he stepped away from his desk to stand in the middle of his office. He could feel himself sweating a little in nervousness, but he could not let his resolve be broken. Taking a deep breath, he raised his shaking hand to his head, and began to adjust his fingers to find the trigger.

But before he could, his eyes strayed to his desk again and noticed a colorful piece of paper on top of it that he had forgotten about since he had received it weeks ago. Lowering the gun, he walked forward to examine it again, something about it catching his eye and all of his attention. It was something that Phoenix Wright had given him after the conclusion of his murder case.

A picture he had drawn of Phoenix and himself as children in their fourth grade class. An awful thing he wanted to throw out, especially when he saw the beautiful picture Phoenix had drawn. But Phoenix had rescued it from the trash and saved it all of these years, only to give it to him now.

With his free hand he picked it up and a sudden memory shot through his mind.

God, youre so boring, Edgey! No wonder you dont got a lot of friends!

Shut up, Larry! Miles is the best friend Ive ever had, and he always will be!

Phoenixs nine year old voice rang clearly in his mind at that moment, and it made the gun in his hand tremble even more. This memory led to another; to the day that Phoenix had given this picture to him.

Wrighthow did you know it wasnt me? How did you know that I didnt kill my father?

"I know you, Edgeworth. In spite of all that Demon Prosecutor stuff, you're still the person that I remembered. And I hope that you'd still consider me to be your friend because...you really are the best friend I ever had."

Miles only realized that he was crying when he noticed some of his tear drops falling on the picture he was holding. The hand holding the gun loosened and he heard the soft thump it made when it met with the luxurious plush burgundy carpet in his office. An anguished sob then left his throat, and he suddenly knew he couldnt do it.

He couldnt give up like this. Not when Phoenix still believed in him. Not when he finally saw the wrong in his ways and had a chance to make up for it. He owed it to everyone he might have wronged in the past, and to stop the same mistakes from happening in the future. He owed it to himself to throw away everything von Karma had instilled and beaten into him growing up. He owed it to his big sister in the hope that she could follow his example and also break from her fathers ways.

And he owed it most to Phoenix, who was one of the only people he trusted, and was certainly one of the only people he cared for. He could not let him down. Ending his own life would solve nothing. Miles then picked up the gun he dropped and put it back in its allotted desk drawer.

Folding the picture that Phoenix had given him, he slid it into a coat pocket. He then walked out of his office, determined to finally make the clean break from everything that he so needed and never to look back.