All eyes were trained on the odd man standing in the open space of the flung courtroom doors. He was tall, with a black suit and a pink tie. His brown hair fell across his square, roughened face in wisps. With the knowledge that all of the eyes of the courtroom were upon him, he slowly lowered the piece of paper he held in his right hand before he coughed self-consciously in his left.

"Apologies." He cleared his throat. "My superiors wanted me to make an entrance."

Marvin Grossberg let his jaw drop, and Mr. Gray opened his mouth to speak, but it was the Judge who beat both of them to it. "Wh-who are you?"

The man gave a courtier's bow. "Manny Coachen, Your Honor. Ambassador of the Republic of Babahl. I come in the name of Allebhast, the home of our past countrymen."

Grossberg took a few steps in the direction of the intruder. "I beg your pardon, sir, but we are in the midst of conducting a serious trial..."

"Yes, yes, that you are." Coachen interrupted him. "That is the matter I was told to discuss." He took note of the Daffodil Killer, who had turned herself and her seat around to face him while the bailiff by her side was distracted by his unexpected entrance.

"Allebhast claims to have lost one of its brightest and best, Ambassador Quercus Alba, at the hands of the defendant you have brought here today. Out of sympathy for our neighboring country, Babahl offers its support."

The Judge put two fingers to the bridge of his nose and rubbed at it. "And...what exactly do you mean by 'support?'"

"Glad you asked, Your Honor." The muscles in Coachen's jaw and throat tightened and relaxed, signaling the louder and more forceful tone he was prepared to assume.

"It is my understanding that this country has instituted a three-day policy for trials. It is more depressing, however, that the defense..." He stared at Grossberg, "...and the prosecution..." He turned his gaze towards Mr. Gray, "...have agreed to try this murderer for one crime for her promise to confess to all the rest." He shook his head. "That will not do. It is the impedance of justice. Allebhast's demands are as follows." He shifted his eyes again, this time straight towards the Judge. "However this trial ends, the embassies of both Babahl and Allebhast will take the defendant into custody and take her to be tried on Allebhastian soil."

Mr. Gray, considered a paragon of discipline and clear-headedness amongst his peers, found himself having abruptly lost his cool. He stumbled out from behind the prosecutor's bench, a flash of color suddenly starting to seep through his face.

"Who are you to make such demands in this courtroom like..."

"I already told you who I am, boy." Coachen's eyes narrowed. "I am Ambassador Manny Coachen of the Republic of Babahl, and I have made demands on the behalf of Allebhast. If you wish to contest, take it up with the embassies. Both of them." He surveyed the courtroom one more time. "With that, I take my leave." And then he was gone.

Franziska sighed. She could not even begin to process the events that had transpired before her. So instead of trying, she simply turned to her side. The air was full of the chatters of the other people in the gallery, but her attention was focused on only one person.

Phoenix scratched the back of his head.

"Are all trials that intense?"

Franziska shook her head, and spoke without thinking. "You should know that is not so. How many trials do you think you took part in?"

"Like...a hundred?"

She shook her head. "No. Five."

"Oh, wow..." Phoenix forced out a chuckle. "I'm really, really a rookie, then."

Franziska wanted to smile, to chuckle, or even provide a mildly contemptuous snort. But she could do none of those things. All she could do was calculate all the probabilities and the percentages by which Phoenix would regain his memory, as she had done nearly a thousand times before.

So she turned back towards the courtroom, positioning herself so Phoenix could not see her face.

Marvin Grossberg sighed wearily. The courtroom procedures of the day were finished, and everyone had left. The Daffodil Killer had been sent back to her cell in detention, although he half-expected to hear of paparazzi or Alebhastian associates clamoring outside the building. Never had he thought one court case could bring so many headaches.

But there was no time to stew on that now. He knocked once, then twice on the door before him.

"Come in."

Grossberg had predicted correctly that Mia Fey would be resting on her back comfortably in the hospital bed of her new room, and even that she would have managed to fit her black jacket over her scrubs. The first thing that caught his eye was the shine of the attorney's badge pinned to her lapel.

More surprising to him, however, was that Mia had a visitor. Maya Fey was on the bed with her, curled up and fast asleep beside her sister's body. Mia looked awkwardly at Grossberg and smiled before indicating a chair at the foot of the bed with a nod.

"Please, sit."

Grossberg walked over, forcing his feet to move with each step, before finally settling down and laying his briefcase in his lap. He and Mia looked at each other for a moment, as if trying to bait one another into starting the conversation. Finally, he sighed and gave in.

"How are you feeling?"

Mia shrugged slowly, careful not to disturb Maya. "Better than before, sir. I cannot begin to guess how you are feeling."

Grossberg winced. "You heard the news?"

"Of course. The staff keep talking about the trial." She paused. "It seems odd on the surface, though. Such a risky and high-profile case, with so little to get in return for success." She watched Grossberg wipe his brow. "You would have to be desperate to accept such a deal."

Grossberg opened his mouth, but Mia lifted a hand to silence him. "You know..." She continued tonelessly. "I cannot help but say a part of me is relieved to hear the news about Redd White. He was the one who leaked DL6 to the press all those years ago and ruined my mother's name. And it's good to know that it was my protege who took him down. But..." Her gaze turned flinty. "Even Redd White couldn't have done that on his own. Not without help...an inside man."

Grossberg gulped. "I...would assume you have already deduced the answer."

"Yes. But I want to hear you say it."

Grossberg lowered his head.

"...I told Redd White about your mother."

"What did he offer in exchange?"

"...More in one day than my office made in a year, back then."

"And so you've switched from one puppeteer to another. White to the Daffodil Killer."

-A multi-chapter story; Chapter 36; story idea by CRed1988 and writing by Jerviss.