(Legal note: The "Ace Attorney" series and all intellectual property within belong to Capcom and Shu Takumi. "Wild Kratts" and its intellectual property belong to Kratt Brothers Company, Studio 9 Productions, and PBS and all member stations. I will not profit off of this work in any way, and claim ownership over nothing but the words on the page.)


My office was colder than usual as I walked into what I assumed (and possibly hoped) would be another uneventful day of work. I removed my jacket, placing it on the hook by the door as my badge caught the morning sun of late November, capturing with it my ever-fleeting attention. Breathing an acquiescent sigh, I walked over to my desk, placing my briefcase atop its polished mahogany surface, and took my seat to prepare for more boring work, reading papers and trying to keep my ever-sinking law firm afloat, if even for just until another case brings me a much-desired paycheck.

As I rolled the dials of the combination locks to their respective numbers, watched as the clasps sprung to life, and cracked open my leather briefcase as if it were an ancient tome of other-worldly knowledge, I felt a sound hitherto unheard for a good while reach my now-attentive ears: the sound of a knock upon my office door. Dumbfounded that this could be the lucky break I've stayed up for weeks dreaming about night after night, I almost didn't answer immediately; thankfully, however, my lips seemed to have a mind of their own as they formed the words:

"Come in."

The front door to my chamber opened, almost like the vast pearly gates of Heaven swinging ajar before my long-awaiting soul. I almost fell out of my chair until I saw not an angel, but a woman of Hispanic ethnicity standing in front of me, the demeanor of her face carrying a visage of a woman both scorned and distressed. Her energy irradiated emotions of devitalizing sadness and furious anger; anger not entirely directed towards me, but to some form of intangible yet omnipresent villainy. She carried a large bag slung from her shoulder, nigh overflowing with documents, folders, and other legal paraphernalia. To be honest, she appeared more prepared than me, as I finally seated myself respectfully in my chair.

"Are you Phoenix? Wright?"

I blinked, before finally allowing a deep sigh to wash away my insomnious woes.

"Yes, I am. Phoenix Wright, world-renowned criminal defense attorney," I said, involuntarily placing an inkling of sarcasm upon my verbal declaration of fame. "At least I was once world-renowned, but lately—"

"Look, I don't care about what they say now, you're the only one I can trust to take my case."

My eyes must have widened to the circumference of two serving trays at this point. What type of case could this woman have, where I, a washed-up celebrity lawyer with barely a job, and who had just gotten their BAR registration back (after losing it unfairly,) finally re-permitting them to practice law in the great, albeit the crazy state of California, am the ONLY one who can be trusted to serve at their defense? Either this is one of the craziest legal cases of all time, or she's just trying to make me feel good; at this point, I can't seem to figure out which of those is closer to the truth, and in the current state of my financial affairs, it honestly didn't matter either way. "Well, can you tell me a little about yourself and your legal situation? I need to figure out exactly what is going on before I can start helping you."

She blinked once, breathed a sigh, and sat in the chair I motioned her towards with my hand. "Okay. My name is Aviva Corcovado, and I am a member of Duke University's Fellowship of Dionysus program. You may have heard of our organization from the news."

I nodded. They were all over the place, going around the world attempting to eliminate the destructive powers of poaching and illegal hunting, fishing, and deforestation. "I have. You're run by that blue guy, right? Matthew was his name?"

"It's Martin. Martin Kratt. And he is why I'm here." She pulled out a newspaper and placed it on my desk. Right there, front-page news: "Martin Kratt Arrested, Billionaire Death Ruled a Homicide." I had to do a double-take; there was no way this was real. "He just got locked up yesterday, charged with Zach Varmitech's murder. Problem is, there's no way he could have done it. Plus, I've been trying everything I can to get in touch with the police, detectives, HIM, but nothing's working. It's like they've got someone else on their side, or in their pockets; after all, Zach was a billionaire and famously conniving too."

I shook my head. "It takes some seriously smooth operating to bribe the cops, but it seems he'd have the material to pull it off. When is the trial, anyway?"

"November 29, four days from now. I know it's barely any time to prepare, but I can help you out. The only guy I could get in touch with was a guy named Gumshoe, but I can get you evidence if necessary."

"No need. I'm used to working under this type of time and pressure, anyway. I'll see what I can do. Besides, you know what they say about time and pressure."

"You better make a diamond out of this one, Phoenix. For his sake and ours." She offered her hand, which I readily accepted with a smile on my face, and dollar signs in my eyes. (Desperation always has appeared profitable to me.) "If you want, I can take you to where the crime occurred. And also, the flying fortress I live in...they're really close to each other. And also, it'll give you a chance to meet and interview the rest of the merry caravan of gypsies I call my family."

"Of course. I will need to figure out their sides of the story and collect evidence, anyway; might as well do both of those at once. And I'm going to need to get as much evidence as I can with what limited time I have." I gave another soft smile of reassurance. Being a decent human being, I wanted to make her feel better. But the job of a lawyer lies in helping people at their lowest. It always has been my purpose in life, ever since that fateful day in elementary school, to bring people out of the deepest chasms of their personal hell and deliver unto them their rightfully deserved justice, even if said justice, unfortunately, ended up being only for my financial gain. (If I may be blunt and honest, this is simply more substantial evidence to prove that nothing in this world has ever, is, or will ever be truly free.)

Aviva gave me a warming smile in return, and I knew then and there that I was going to do anything and everything to win this case for her, for Martin, for the entire Fellowship of Dionysus. I was prepared to defend the honor of justice with everything I had, as I locked back up and lifted the venerable portfolio off of my heavy wooden workspace. "I'll follow you to the scene of the crime," I said, regaining my dignity with every word that left my mouth. She replied with a nod and opened the door to the office, as I donned my coat of blue yet again, the badge catching the sunlight of a new day and reflecting the shimmering beams of justice upon the walls of my chamber of law.

As I buttoned my jacket and stepped outside with my first client in over two months, for the first time in a long while, I felt proud to be a defense attorney.


(A/N: Thank you for reading this. Please leave reviews, and when it's time, bring your own objections and evidence to the table! See you next time!)