Author's Note: Fun fact that I'm definitely just putting out there on this chapter for totally no specific reason at all; there are no OCs in this story. So anyone in this fic is someone from canon.

August 3rd, 1836

After both Manfred and Miles had finished speaking, the workers were dismissed to begin their fifteen hour workday. Phoenix lingered. He resisted the pull of the crowd, his heart thrumming in his chest. It's Miles! I've found him! He watched with anticipation while Manfred and Miles exchanged a few brief words before Manfred bid his protege goodbye and left the room.

Now's my chance! The last of the workers were making their way out of the room, and Phoenix pushed through a few strangers to get near the other man. He was summoning the breath and the courage to call out to the new factory owner, when-

Thump! Phoenix yelped as a strong arm landed around his shoulders and pulled the man into a headlock. "Nick! I can't believe you're here too; what a coincidence!" A familiar voice yelled into his ear.

"Larry?" Phoenix exclaimed with equal incredulously. "What are you doing here?" He twisted his neck to try to spot where Miles was. The other man was already starting to leave with a swish of his coattails. There was a big, bulky man walking after him. Drats! The worker directed his attention back to his remaining childhood friend. "I thought you were working as a shop clerk. ...And then for the railroad company. ...And then you were a logger. And then-".

"All just distractions, Nick, my man," Larry said, waving him off easily. "Distractions from my true passion; textile making!"

Oh boy. He's not going to make it here.

"Now that I have my dream job, nothing's gonna stop me from getting rich! I'll get a house! I'll have a slew of girls! I'll..."

While he was distracted, his grip loosened, and Phoenix was able to slip free from the other worker's hold. He hasn't changed at all, he thought.

Larry really did look the same as ever. He wore the same oversized white shirt (perhaps with a few new holes in it) that had sleeves that came down past his hands. His grinning face was smudged with dirt, and he wore no shoes. And most importantly, he was still talking.

"'I'll be famous! People will pay me just to see me smile!"

"That's great," Phoenix finally cut his friend off, only to be interrupted himself.

"It is great, Nick! Oh, I've even got this new gal! You should meet her, she's gorgeous!"

"I will meet her," the worker said. He pressed on Larry's back, gently but firmly, to steer him forward. "Later. First, we have work to do. I'd hate to get in hot water on the first day."

Larry dismissed him, "Aww, c'mon, Nick. That old gasbag didn't mean it." The friends filed in after the others. "He tries to be tough, but I betcha he wouldn't really send anybody packing."

"I doubt it. This is Manfred von Karma we're talking about here."

"Ha…! Are you kittens done gossiping yet?"

Kittens? Phoenix's mind numbly registered that the speaker must be talking to him. The crowd of workers squashed together on the small wooden platform were staring at him and his friend. A few stairs above the group, standing beside Mia, was the speaker.

He was a tall man with a untamed shock of hair and the proud owner of a smug, crooked grin that was a magnet for anyone's fist within a ten mile radius. But what really stood out about him was the thick layer of gauze wrapped around his face, covering his eyes.

"We weren't gossiping!" Larry protested hotly.

"Really? I'm glad to hear it. That would be a waste of everyone's time. Especially mine." The older man jumped down onto the platform. How can he see? He stalked towards Larry, stopping just short of being in the ginger man's face. "Time wasted isn't worth a drop of even the creamiest coffee."

What? The man nodded sagely, like what he said had made any sense at all.

Judging by the man's dark tinted skin and noticeable accent, Phoenix surmised that this weird older man was Diego Armando.

Diego continued, "By the way, your friend there is right." He said with entirely too much smugness. "Von Karma won't hesitate to throw you out. Neither will his protege." The overseer pushed past the ginger man and started heading down the rickety stairs. "So anyone who doesn't feel like getting fired today, come with me."

You kind of deserved that. Phoenix shrugged at Larry and trooped downstairs with the rest of the workers.

At the bottom of the stairs was a sweltering, cavernous room. Aside from empty rows for pathways, It was crammed wall-to-wall with strange machines and people. The new arrivals stopped in the vacant space at the foot of the stairs to stare. Diego stood off to the side and nursed a cup of what Phoenix guessed was coffee.

The loud whiiirr of mechanics was a perpetual drone that Mia had to raise her voice over to be heard. "You're each going to be assigned a machine. You work at that machine until midday, where you get a break for lunch, and then you get back to it until your break for dinner. The work day ends at nine."

At that point, Mia pulled out her list of names and started to shepherd individual workers towards their work stations. She passed by near him, someone jumped back to get out of the assistant overseer's way and slammed into Phoenix.

"Oof!" Phoenix grunted. "Watch it!" He frowned down at his assailant, who was much smaller than him.

The boy couldn't have been older than thirteen. He wore a white shirt with jeans and suspenders and shoes, all of which were too big for him. He had a bright blue cap on, and black hair spilling out from under it. They hadn't even started working yet, but a combination of dirt and soot heavily obscured his face.

The kid squealed, "Sorry!" He didn't look very sorry at all.

"It's okay. ...How old are you, anyway?"

"Seventeen."

"Seventeen?" Well, that's not what I was expecting at all.

The teenager puffed his cheeks out. "Yeah! What about it?"

"Uh, nothing, I guess."

"Michael! Phoenix!" Mia called.

"Yes, Si… supervisor lady ma'am?" the boy, Michael, apparently, spouted off quickly.

Mia gave him a weird look and Michael pulled his hat to cover his bright, copper eyes. "Your machines are over here. Follow me."

The two of them followed her, the boy always standing a little bit behind Phoenix. I guess he's just intimidated by her, like the men in the dorms.

She lead them down a pathway and stopped at an empty machine. "It's all yours." The assistant overseer waved the two towards them and walked away.

Phoenix noticed a harsh-looking young girl in an impractically fancy dress concentrating on her work one station down. Michael also seemed to notice her, because he perked up and walked closer to her. The blue-haired girl didn't so much as look up at him.

Amused, Phoenix took the spot next to Michael and began working. She's quite the beauty, but she's not very friendly. I hope the poor kid doesn't get his heart broken.


After dinner, Phoenix had gone looking for Edgeworth again, but to no avail. The factory was huge.

I'll need more than luck to figure out where Edgeworth's gone and holed himself up.

The worker returned to his dorm late at night and exhausted.

"Nick!" The boy from earlier, Michael, ran up to him. "Finally! Where have you been?"

Phoenix shrugged, changing into his nightclothes. "I was out looking for a friend."

Nick, huh? I wonder who he could have possibly picked that up from…

Sure enough, his second roommate made himself known in the form of Larry, springing up from where had been seemingly asleep in bed. "What type of friend? If it's a girlfriend you're looking for, I can help you out! I know a few girls who can overlook appearance... and personality!"

You're one to talk, Larry.

"He needs all the help he can get," Michael said teasingly.

Phoenix climbed into bed with as much dignity as he could muster. "Ha, ha. No, thank you. I'm not looking for a girlfriend."

"You should be. You're like what, thirty five? Tick tock, Nick." Michael sing-songed as he climbed to the top of the bunk-bed. He didn't even change out of his day clothes.

"I'm twenty four!" The young man kicked the underside of the boy's bed.

"Mmhm. Tomaeto, tomato. Ladder, step-ladder."

That was going over the line. "Step-ladders and ladders are completely different things!"

Michael poked his head over the side of the bed, holding onto his hat with one hand to ensure that it didn't fall off. "They're like basically the same thing! It's all about cultural assumptions, Nick. Don't be so narrow-minded."

What? Phoenix blinked quickly. "That didn't even make any sense!"

From the bed opposite, Larry whined, folding his pillow to cover his ears. "Stop bickering, you guys! It makes my ears bleed!"

The two fell quiet. But outside of their window, city life carried on well into the night. Even at this hour, there were horses clopping down avenues and people yelling in the streets. Lying awake in his bed, listening to the noises of New York, Phoenix stared up at the bed above him and resolved to do better.

I got distracted today. Tomorrow, I find Edgeworth and talk to him.

Author's Note: Sorry for the odd disclaimer at the beginning. And sorry about the lack of gay in this chapter. Not every chapter is going to feature the two of them together, which is probably weird for a shipping fic, but there's a lot of elements I want to do on the side. One of my favorite parts of (historical) AUs is experimenting with what different characters would be in that universe. I promise Wrightworth is still the focus though. Hopefully none of this turns anyone off.

Anyway, I really hope that you enjoyed! Thanks for reading! And happy Mother's Day, guys!

(fun history fact bc why not let's make that a thing: the lightbulb wasn't invented until 43 years later, so that makes factories suck even more bc they only had natural light and windows and they were working long hours like man it's no wonder people made mistakes and lost limbs and things this entire era was a recipe for disaster)