Turnabout Endings
Chapter 10: Sister Iris Part III: The Face of Fate
DISCLAIMER: I do not own Ace Attorney. Capcom does. Hence the title "fanfiction." Just to be needlessly extra-safe, I'll also say I don't own Bank of America. o_o

January 31st, 2076, 3:20 PM
Los Angeles, California
Phoenix Wright's House

"This is predictable. Very predictable, indeed." Franziska von Karma said as she glared at Phoenix intensely. "I dare you to look me in the eye and tell me they didn't at least start dating," she continued (needlessly) menacingly.

Phoenix only chuckled as he looked down. "Oh, they started dating alright. Hell, to make a long story short, they even married by 2025. Iris didn't need a job, as Mr. Lynch was an architect. A damn good one at that, from what I've heard."

"Hmm. Fascinating…" she murmured, "But all good things come to an end, don't they? We've all witnessed firsthand that everything good can and will be taken away from us swiftly…"

Phoenix nodded in confirmation. "Yes. Iris's story is just like one of those romantic dramas they put out once in a while. Especially the Korean ones. Good things happen, then hardship, and then happiness sprouts again, only for tragedy and death to occur…" He said a bit darkly. "But every story needs a happy ending, doesn't it?"

Franziska nodded in agreement. "Yes, but there always must be conflict, which is what I'm expecting to hear soon."

"Quite. Now, I imagine you've visited the graves of Dick Gumshoe and Maggey Byrde already? God bless their souls," Phoenix said sentimentally.

The ex-prosecutor nodded again. "Yes, I did. They died at a bank."

"Good memory. Now, Dick Gumshoe and Maggey Byrde weren't the only ones to die in that heist…" The aging Phoenix said, raising an eyebrow as he leaned back.

Franziska remembered Phoenix's words about Iris's story resembling a Korean drama, and recollecting "death" from his list of her events. Still, she decided to keep quiet and just listen to what else he had to say to her.

March 26, 2030, 1:27 PM
Los Angeles, California
Bank of America

Five years had passed since she had said yes to Michael Lynch's proposal. And she was happy that she had managed to have a new beginning. She managed to restart her life. Now, Iris and her husband were waiting in line. Actually, they had just reached the front of the line. Michael stepped forward, clearing his throat as he looked at the employee, who happened to have brown hair and wearing glasses, as well as a name tag that said "Maggey," with a smile.

"Ah, yes. I'd like to make a deposit—"

BANG. BANG. BANG.

Before Michael could finish his sentence, three gunshots rang through the building, quickly and effectively silencing the entire building as several armed men entered the building, all of which wearing black masks. All of them…menacing. Determined. Ready.

The robber in the front held up an SMG, looking around. "Alright, alright. Nobody panic. But this is a robbery. We all know the drill. Calling the police wouldn't be a good idea, as I could then easily make you a hostage. Any security guard who tries to stop us will have their face blown off. Alright?"

No one said a thing, which was good enough for the criminal, who continued to speak. "Alright, cool. Now, everyone on your knees and your hands on your head!" He said with a sudden burst of aggressiveness as he shot the roof a few times with his weapon.

Intimidated by the gunshots, everyone did as they were told. They got to their knees, faced the ground, and put their hands over their heads, not daring to challenge the masked men. Not even the weak willed security officers. One robber walked over to a security guard, pressing his handgun against the man's head, demanding the location of the safe.

He did as he was told, with the robbers following him after producing some bags to store their money in. The other men walked around casually, their guns down. It was an easy job. A bit too easy, one of the punks noted, but he quickly shrugged it off.

Michael turned to Iris, looking around before whispering something in his wife's ear. "I…I have to do something about this?"

"What? What can you do about this? They…they have guns! Please…don't risk your life to negotiate with these criminals. They won't listen to reason…" Iris whispered back, madly worried about her husband, her heart beginning to beat faster than it already has.

"How would you know? They might—"

"They won't. Telling them it's not worth it isn't good enough. I know…from experience…" she murmured, "And they don't take any—"

Now it was Michael's turn to disrupt her sentence. "It's at least worth a try. Please, I'll be fine. They wouldn't shoot me just by negotiating, right?"

Iris thought for a second. Trying to be reasoned with isn't a good motive for murder. She had met many other murderers while in prison. Their motives for killing included money, jealously, revenge, and more. She sighed, knowing there was no way to stop him. After all, she knew he was a very stubborn person anyway…

Michael gulped. He knew there was no turning back. Was it a stupid idea? Was negotiating with these crooks taking one too many risks? He shook his head, determined to at least try. Well, here we go, he thought to himself.

He stood up slowly, removing his hands. He inched forward, but then realized something. How should he start? He should probably start this negotiation subtly, as to not show any signs of threatening or intimidation—

"Hey!" He suddenly yelled recklessly.

…Dammit.

The robbers focused their attention on Michael, a few of them pointing their guns at him. "Get back down on the ground, punk!"

A bit ironic to call someone else that, Michael noted, but he thought little of the remark as he continued inching towards the criminals, though he wasn't sure why he was even moving. "Look…I…" He looked around, observing that everyone was watching him. He could feel the bead of sweat move down his neck, but he persevered. "Is it really worth it? Endangering the lives of everyone here just so you can get a few bucks?"

The criminals scoffed at him. Chuckled confidently, rolling their eyes dismissively. They didn't take him seriously just yet. "Look, pal. You're not in any position to try to stop this. Now stop playing hero, because you remember who's holding the guns here?"

Michael took a deep breath. He had to pick his words carefully, not like last time. But he had to think fast, or else they'll just dismiss him completely. "Listen, I'm not trying to…threaten you or anything…" He said as he shakily put his hands up, but not back over his head. "I'm just asking…is this really worth it?"

One of the criminals sneered with amusement as he stepped forward, pointing his shotgun at Michael. "You might just want to shut up now. You're starting to get on my nerves," he said as he cocked the weapon, "We have families too. We just think our families are more important than yours," he finished coldly, causing one of his partners to chuckle lightly in amusement.

"So you think that getting yourself arrested will make your family better?" Michael said with a mild, albeit sudden burst of aggressiveness.

"Hmph," the same robber sneered, "We're not getting arrested. Not today. No one's gonna call the police now, are they?"

"Who says they aren't already coming? Who says someone hasn't already triggered a silent alarm or something?" Michael countered.

One of the crooks looked down in thought, as if he realized what kind of point the civilian was trying to make. However, another crook shook his head. "If they did, there'd be sirens already! Now get back down or else! This is your final chance!"

The robber with the shotgun stepped towards Michael, still aiming his weapon at him. "Do what he says. Or I'll make you, tough guy."

"Listen, I'm trying to help you. If you leave now—"

"1."

"Please, listen to me…"

"2."

"Please, I'm begging you. Just—"

BANG.

He did it. The shotgun was fired. Michael knelt down, clutching his chest. The bullets had practically ripped through him. The pain was agonizing. He had failed his wife. His love. And he paid the ultimate price for it.

And yet, at the same time, he felt the pain going away. Both the physical pain of the bullets and the mental pain of losing his wife. He fell face-first to the ground, realizing that part of death was that you would be at peace, no matter what. His time had come…and yet…he felt as if he wasn't ready.

But this wasn't his choice…it was the face of fate.

He closed his eyes and sighed for the last time. He closed his eyes for the last time…

"Hmph. Going by my assumptions, I'm surprised that Iris didn't commit suicide from all the tragedies she encountered in her life," Franziska said coolly.

"Well, how would she be able to further affect my life if she were dead by then? Since Iris didn't have a job, she knew that she would eventually lose the house and everything Michael owned, even if she inherited all of his money. However, she just donated it all to charity."

"Why would she do that?"

"Because using Michael's computer, she knew where to go, how to get there, and why she'd want to go there," Phoenix stated.

"And where, pray tell, might that be, Phoenix Wright?" She pried.

"Kurain Village."

Dun dun dun. More stuff happened as I just killed/disposed of another OC! Seriously, like I said, I really just dislike creating OCs, and only use them when absolutely necessary to the plot. Anyway, how'd you like the chapter? I know it might be a bit short or something, but still, reviews are always cool.