Name: Klavier Gavin

Vehicle: Löwe (Like a lion, Klavier has a mane of luscious golden hair, is a force to be reckoned with when provoked, and isn't afraid to sing a playful musical number. As such, it's only fitting that Klavier named his motorcycle after the German word for lion.)

Vehicle Armor: 3/5 (Klavier might look like the kind of guy who'd sacrifice safety for the sake of looking cool, but looks can be deceiving. Take his older brother, for example. Kristoph may look like a suave, calm, intelligent man who has his act together, but that's just a façade he used to mask the deranged, obsessive lunatic he really is who killed two people, as well as befriended and relentlessly stalked a man who he despised every day for seven years, on the grounds that he couldn't wrap his head around why some jerk wouldn't want him as an attorney. As such, it shouldn't come off as much as a surprise that despite his rocker attire and casual attitude in court, Klavier will be the first to say that being safe never goes out of style.)

Vehicle Speed: 4/5 (Klavier wants his bike to go fast enough so that he can feel the wind blow through his hair and to outspeed his fangirls, but not too fast so as to give said infatuated fräulines ample time to watch him leave.)

Vehicle Handling: Very Tight (Like his music, Klavier expects his bike to handle flawlessly. After all, you can't find the truth in court or bring a smile to a fräuline's face if your motorcycle flips over during a sharp turn and maims you in the process… well, most fräulines, that is.)

Special Weapon: 4/5 (Lawyer's Gift- For some reason, when someone becomes a lawyer, they gain strange powers- generating gusts of air strong enough to knock people off of their feet with a finger snap, slicing through objects at a distance with a simple wave of the hand, and spawning an endless supply of mugs filled with piping-hot coffee to name a few- and the Gavin brothers are no exception. In addition to the ability to play an actual air guitar and telepathically project Guilty Love into the minds of others at will, Klavier can utilize the same telekinetic powers as his older brother… albeit with less psychotic screaming.)

Bio: I can't believe this is happening… Just when I thought I was finally starting to get an idea of what kind of sick, twisted person my bro really is- the murders, the lies, the remorseless psychological manipulation- he goes and turns our world into a wasteland and has us all killing each other for his amusement. Why…? Just- just why is he doing this? Why does he want to make everyone suffer just because some jerk snub him? Well, once I win this competition, I'll finally get some answers to those questions, whether Kristoph wants to give them to me or not.


From the moment of Debauched Steel's conception, Kristoph knew that it wasn't a matter of if this outcome would occur, but rather, when- the moment that he'd be standing up from his usual seat on the side of the road, calmly closing his copy of A Beautiful, Terrible Thing and placing it on the bench's weathered wooden surface, and standing face-to-face with the winner of Debauched Steel, prepared to fulfil their wildest dreams and grant almost any wish they could think of, only to find that said victor is his brother, Klavier.

For what feels like an eternity, the two brothers just stare at each other in total silence, the air becoming thick with tension and a distinct hint of melancholy. But while no words are exchanged, their gazes convey their thoughts to the other as clear as day.

Upon seeing the hate in his brother's eerily calm gaze that is only amplified by the light bouncing off of his glasses as he pushes them up, Klavier can understand why Vera Misham would refer to him as the Devil. This is the look of a man who's not only fully-aware of the countless wrongs he's committed over the years, but is actually proud of them, acting as if he's some kind of misunderstood genius whose only crime is being ahead of the curb. There is no warmth in his gaze; there is no mercy, or kindness, or compassion. The only person that Kristoph loves in this world is himself, whereas everyone else is more or less a plaything for his amusement. Klavier saw a similar look in his brother's eyes the last time they met, but it was never this extreme, though that's probably because the last time they met, Kristoph didn't have the ability to bend the universe to his will.

Unlike his own frigid, remorseless stare, when Kristoph looks into Klavier's eyes, he can see the same warmth that he's had ever since he was born. For as long as Kristoph could remember, Klavier was always his opposite- his brother was extraverted, whereas he was introverted; his brother went into law for the pursuit of truth and justice for all, whereas he wanted fame and fortune; his brother always saw the good in people, whereas he knew that the more friends you have, the more likely they are to hurt you. This is one reason why Kristoph prefers to hide his emotions from others, unlike Klavier, who has always worn his heart on his sleeve, with this awkward stare down being no exception as the former rock star looks at his brother with an expression of utter sadness and despair, his body jittering as he fights back the urge to cry.

Surprisingly enough, Kristoph is the first one to look away, disgruntlement becoming evident on his visage, brushing some loose bangs out of his face as he carefully ponders his next course of action. The host of Debauched Steel knows exactly what will come out of his brother's mouth, but even with his vast pool of knowledge greatly expanded thanks to his powers, Kristoph doesn't know exactly how to respond in a way that Klavier will understand. After all, little does the prosecutor know that another difference has emerged between the two of them: while Klavier is blissfully unaware as to the nature of their universe and their very existences, Kristoph knows the truth… the sad, disparaging truth.

However, Klavier doesn't give his brother the luxury of time to come up with an answer before finally breaking the silence with a single word.

"Why…?" The prosecutor weakly asks as he chokes back the tears forming in his eyes.

"Why what, Klavier?" Kristoph responds, his collected façade returning as he crosses his arms and flashes a confident grin while deciding to play dumb. "Why the sky is blue? Well, that's because-"

"Why… THIS!?" Klavier roars, his face reddening as he gestures to the devastated, flame-engulfed city surrounding them. "Why ruin Herr Wright's career and reputation because some jerk decided to fire you? Why kill a man and attempt to do the same to his daughter for simply doing the job that you paid them to do?! Why…?!" The ex-rock star could no longer hold back the tears, his body shuddering as they trail down his cheeks and his melodious voice that drives the women mad cracking. "Why manipulate ME!? I trusted you, Kristoph, and you used me as a means to an end and thought nothing of it!"

The ex-defense attorney shakes his head and flashes his brother a warm grin. "Like I told Wright, the police, and all those desperate female psychologists who wanted to date me in an attempt to 'fix' me, I am an evil human being- nothing more, nothing less. So with that out of the way, what would you like to wish for?"

"That is my wish!" Klavier snarls, holding up a shaking clenched fist. "I want the truth, Kristoph! No more bullshit, no more beating around the bush! I want to know what made you into the monster you are and finally get some goddamn closure!"

With a sigh, Kristoph turns his back to his brother. "Klavier, you have no idea of the extent of the answers surrounding that question. You simply can't handle the truth."

"That's for me to decide, not you!" The ex-rock star shouts, grabbing his brother's shoulder and turning the other man around so that he can see the death glare that Klavier's giving him that's only accentuated by the reddening of his eyes as the result of his crying. "So tell me the truth, Kristoph! Tell me now!"

"Fine." Kristoph calmly replies with a slight hint of snideness in his voice as he brushes his brother's hand off of his shoulder. "But only because you asked so nicely."

The ex-defense attorney pauses to take a deep breath.

"Tell me, Klavier. What is the mark of success? How does someone establish a legacy for themselves that will outlive their mortal body?"

"I want answers, Kristoph, not more questions."

"Just humor me, Klavier…" Kristoph sighed in exasperation as he pushed up his glasses.

"Well, for me, it just sort of happened. I didn't become a prosecutor to be hailed as a prodigy, nor did I go into music to become a rock star. I followed my passions, pouring my blood, sweat, and tears into them as I aspired to make the world a better place. For me, a legacy isn't about how much money you have, or how many times your name appears in a book or billboard, but rather the mark you leave in the hearts of other. I would rather have it where I helped to change a single person's life for the better than have a hundred people know my name."

"That's all well and good, Klavier. However, what if no matter how hard you try or how long you keep at it, no one outside of our family knows you exist? And then when you finally start to make a name for yourself through honest hard work and skill, a peer of yours who entered the field at around the same time as you greatly surpasses your reputation because of sheer luck? That, Klavier… That is why I hate Phoenix Wright." Kristoph bluntly states, a vindictive chill permeating his tone. "If it wasn't for the combination of several high-profile cases falling in his lap, his rushed guesses somehow turning out to be correct, and Maya being deceptively competent in light of her childish demeanor, he wouldn't even have half of the recognition that he enjoys to this day."

"You're wrong." Klavier shakes his head. "Herr Wright did not become famous because of luck alone, but rather because he has proven himself time and time again to be a man of integrity and a shinning beacon of hope to his clients with his determination."

"And you're saying I wasn't?"

"Well, you did forge that diary page…"

"One time!" Kristoph snaps as he scowls at his brother, holding up a single finger to emphasize his point. "I forged evidence one time, and only because I knew that the real diary page existed, yet it couldn't be found. Think about it, Klavier: you saw all the steps I took to cover up my tracks regarding that fake diary page- murdering Zak, poisoning a family of recluses, and pretending to be the friend of my most hated enemy, even going so far as to risk bankruptcy by helping to finance his former assistant's insatiable appetite for burgers! If I routinely forged evidence- a habit of which I find to be a crutch for less competent attorneys- how would I have any time to make a living as a lawyer?"

"I… I never thought of it like that." Klavier sighed, his gaze directed slightly towards the ground as his brother's points entered his mind.

"Of course you didn't." Kristoph venomously spits out. "Just like how no one thinks about Wright's sins. For example, THEY see me as some sort of monster for giving into my anger and ruining Wright's career by having Trucy hand him forged evidence to present in court, yet THEY conveniently overlook how he repeated history during the trial for Zak Gramarye's murder by forging that bloody ace with his own two hands, having Trucy give it to Justice, and then allowing him to present it to the court in order to send me off to prison. That's right; Justice's career could have ended before it even started and his life in shambles just because Wright decided to use the poor boy as a puppet in his sick game because of his naivete and Perceive ability…" Kristoph takes a moment to dryly chuckle. "And yet despite this, and essentially forcing Apollo to work for him for little pay, THEY think of Phoenix as a father for figure for the boy, whereas I, the man who hired him because of his talent and treated him with respect and dignity, am regarded as some abusive employer."

"Wait, who are 'they'?" Klavier asks, cocking his head to the side out of confusion.

"Good question, Klavier!" Kristoph chirps, his eyes widening and a large grin spreading across his face as the left side of his mouth starts to twitch. "And that brings us to our next topic: why instead simply using my powers to strike down Wright, I decided to start Debauched Steel. But before that, another question."

"Seriously, Kristoph?" Klavier asks with a tone of notable irritation. "Can't you just answer the question?"

"Don't worry, Klavier. This is the last time. I promise. Now, who are you- name, age, family, life, etc."

"Well, I'm Klavier Gavin, your brother and the son of Koen Gavin, former defense attorney and the current governor of California, and Kharmen Gavin, a housewife. I graduated from the Themis Legal Academy when I was 17 and studied abroad in Germany in order to earn my prosecutor's badge while pursuing a career in music."

"Very good, Klavier…" Kristoph smirks with crossed arms. "And also so very, very wrong."

"What do you mean?" Klavier objected. "You're my brother! You saw me grow up and can attest to all of those details!"

"What I mean, Klavier, is that everything you know is a lie. Now, this is probably going to sound like some cliched plot twist straight of a sci-fi film, but it's the truth: you, me, and everyone you've ever met over the course of your life are not real. We're all characters from a video game series that revolves around Wright taking on cases in order to acquit his clients and always coming out as the victor in the end thanks to the power of friendship and trust and you get the idea. That explains why Wright always wins despite rarely having a clue about what's going on and why he has Superman-levels of invincibility: he's being controlled by a person who has to feel some sort of fulfilment by the end of the experience, lest they stop buying the games and our world becomes stagnant."

"You're crazy, Bro." Klavier states with a serious look.

"I would have thought the same thing before receiving these powers, but alas, it's all true. So with that in mind, how do you think I should feel after learning that I was created solely to serve as an obstacle for Wright and Justice to overcome in arguably the least popular game in the series? Isn't it only fair for me to make characters that our creators have decided to put on golden pedestals feel a small fraction of the pain I feel knowing that I was the product of a failed experiment to take the series in a slightly darker, more nuanced direction? That's why Capcom, the company that develops the games that our world is featured in, haven't mentioned my name in canon in the two main-series titles that came after the game we were introduced in and why your last appearance was in some wacky paid DLC case- they're trying to faze us out of the series because people hated the fact that in our debut game, Wright was aloof and dressed like a bum, which made the fans sad."

"Uh, Bro…? Have you been standing out in the sun without a hat again?" Klavier asks with a tone of noticeable concern as he takes a step back away from his brother, who appears to be on the verge of a complete meltdown.

Kristoph takes a moment to let out an angry sigh, his nostrils flaring as he pushes his glasses up. "And as if that wasn't bad enough, these versions of us and this world that we're in aren't even the canon versions of ourselves. We're characters in a fanfiction. That's right, Klavier, everything about our pasts- our parents, our friends, our childhood home, our hobbies, and pretty much every other minor background detail you can think of- was thought up by a fan of the game series that our world takes place in a way that doesn't conflict with the canon universe for the sake of giving him more variety when it comes to the stories he writes because apparently, our creators couldn't be bothered to give us actual backstories beyond us being brothers. These powers of mine and the knowledge that I posses as a result? All thanks to me being one of the writer's favorite villains and him deciding to create a story where I get to call the shots. Why I can't just simply go back in time and stop Zak from firing me in the first place or erasing Wright from existence? While the writer has godlike capabilities when it comes to this particular subset of the multiverse, which consists of all of the stories he's written, and can do whatever he so desires to those different universes and the characters that reside within them, he can't change the canon. Even the way we speak isn't safe from that crazy guy! Notice how I've been practically monologuing to myself while you've been pretty much standing there like a vegetable. That's not because I love to ramble on while you listen, but rather as the result of him not knowing how to properly pace these kinds of discussions.

"For the love of God, learn how to properly pace these slower and more somber scenarios, Writer!" Kristoph screams to the sky, his hair unraveling and thrashing about like a mighty flame. "Do us all a favor and read something that isn't a comedy so you can actually broaden your horizons and do these kinds of situations justice instead of torturing the reader with walls of monologues and a flood of information! Look at my brother, Writer! Look at him!" The host of Debauched Steel gestures to his brother with a shaky hand, his left eye noticeably twitching as Klavier just stands there dumbfounded. "Of course you're looking at him! You're writing everything that's happening, yet you're too lazy to actually have him contribute to the discussion at this point in the story, just like how you've used the phrase 'his brother' to specify who's being referred to more times than I can count! Seriously, whoever is reading this story, don't have a drinking game where you take a shot every time the phrase 'his brother', 'ex-defense attorney', or 'host of Debauched Steel' is used, because you will die- all because the writer who dictates what happens in our sad little branch of the multiverse is more focused on the spirit of the story rather than how it's worded!"

"Uh, Khris…" Klavier hesitantly interjects. "If Herr Writer is as powerful as you say he is when it comes to this… non-canon universe, then wouldn't it be in your best interest not to insult him?"

Kristoph tilts back, his right hand covering his face as he bursts into a fit of laughter. "Klavier, you fool! Our thoughts, words, and actions are not of our own choosing, but that of the writer in the futile hope of entertaining anyone who reads these stories! Why, that's the reason I'm having this breakdown to begin with! The writer has no idea of how end this chapter! After all, for a chapter, or 'episode', like this, it can't end in the typical manner in which I say some snide remark and the screen cutting to black. No, it has to be different; it has to be unique! Why, the readers have been waiting five years for this! So what's it going to be, Writer?! Will I finally snap from having to deal with the reality of my miserable existence and the world I live in, go supernova, and destroy everything? Will Klavier punch me in the face, rendering me unconscious, prompting a 'technical difficulties' notice to pop up? Or will-

Suddenly, Kristoph is interrupted by a large lavender-colored beam of energy hitting him and Klavier, resulting in a massive explosion that completely obliterates their universe.