Serenade under the moon

06:25 a.m.

Keyblade Wielder's Association

Archives

I made a promise to myself.

Never to defend guilty clients.

The bones in his hand nearly shattered under Vanitas' iron grip when the cryogenic chamber hissed open. Icy mist cleared to reveal Zack's perfectly preserved body and a strangled gasp escaped Skye when his irises glowed dimly under hooded eyelids.

Maya convinced Leon to offer more evidence and advised Sora to visit the KBWA before court. His twin caught wind and latched on like a limpet. The reveal of Zack's frozen body crushed Vanitas' heart and he choked on air. In contrast, the detective pored over the corpse, dimly excited about the ground breaking science behind Zack's irises, glinting vibrantly even in death.

Cloud's presence weighed like an anchor. He munched on a mini bag of snackoos much to Sora's private annoyance.

I didn't defend the guilty client in my mock trial.

But… lives weren't at stake.

An emblem heartless scrabbled against its glass cage. It glared with lamp yellow eyes before morphing into a cloud of smoke and battering the rubber seams. A thick, hide bound tome lay open beneath a transparent panel. A brutal battle scene in the form of orange outlines played above the stained pages.

"Do you have other bodies in there?" Ema questioned, dangerously close to the cryogenic chamber spanning the archive's south wall. Strife exasperatedly warned her away from its foggy interiors but she flicked a snackoo at him and obstinately peered between the steel door cracks.

"We have a heart," Leon deadpanned and pulled a fur-lined hood over his stinging ears.

Reading the autopsy reports, Sora searched for a chair when Vanitas sagged against him. "Are you okay?" he concernedly asked.

"Anti-darkness barriers," Vanitas sighed. "I'll be fine."

A burnt wound opened under Zack's left ribs. Rusty blood stains starched his uniform. His body sported a second wound right above the first one while wounds number three and four went through his stomach and the hollow of his throat respectively. Sora shuddered, all the wounds are in vital areas; only a monster could keep fighting after suffering a bullet through their chest.

The KBWA chief spread the blueprints of an arrow gun on a nearby glass booth and the monster within screeched.

"Xigbar is proficient in teleporting," Squall explained, "he never misses his targets. Those arrow guns are powered by magic. You will be calling them lasers. This," a photograph of the bloodied Buster sword landed on top of the paper, "proves Xigbar was attacked, the DNA profile belongs to him."

Can I get him the non-guilty verdict?

Vanitas refused to leave the corpse. Impassive, Cloud tailed the detective, ready to slap her inquisitive hands away from monsters which could drown the Association whole.

Isn't there another way to put Xigbar behind bars and escape the shadow hovering above us?

Am I really going to let a murderer like him walk free?

"Whatever you decide to do in the courtroom is up to you," Leon rasped as if reading Sora's thoughts. "The KBWA is not happy with your decision to defend him." A brazier upturned and fire spilled to the floor. The monsters in the archive collectively cowed. "Xigbar is dangerous, he operates outside the Organization XIII's regulations."

Will that make me an accomplice? A murderer?

10:30 a.m.

District Court

Courtroom no. 1

"The prosecutor is ready your honor." DeBeste glared challengingly at the attorney.

Smoothing his cashmere scarf, Sora straightened. The government wanted Xigbar free, who better to handle the case than an incompetent rookie prosecutor?

"The defense is ready your honor," Sora intoned and spread his pages on the varnished bench.

Twirling his beard, the Judge regarded the lawyer. Usually, Clavius' eyes shone determinedly, but today they remained dull. "Prosecutor DeBeste, your opening statement please." Banging his gavel and smiling when the timid attorney jumped, the judge commented, "the weather is awful today, don't you agree?"

The court politely muttered their agreement.

"Xigbar Braig, a Level 2 weapons developer was found guilty of murdering Zack Fair, a KBWA operative," Sebastian announced and thwacked his conducting baton. "The nature of the murder is bizarre but we have a key witness."

Petrifying, Sora glanced at his co-counsel. Apollo shrugged helplessly.

Tapping the baton on the bench, the prosecutor called Ema to the stand. The morning's good humor evaporating, she shoveled a fistful of chocolate snackoos in her mouth before stating her name, occupation and testimony.

"The victim died due to multiple laser projectiles spearing his body." Her blue-green gaze slid furtively to Sora. "The crime scene was in an unconventional place, I couldn't investigate properly. Usually, a team of forensic scientists are needed to comb through an area... although, we did find a palm print belonging to the suspect," she laconically stated.

Outside the casement windows, the sky gnarled. Thunder flashed in the underbellies of pregnant clouds.

Mind churning, Sora listened while Sebastian grilled Ema on the crime scene.

"It's in a difficult place," the detective petulantly answered. Fingerprint powder dusted the lapels of her olive green waistcoat. "The crime scene could not be investigated thoroughly," she firmly repeated.

Pen gripped tightly between his fingers, Sora cross-examined her and energetically scribbled notes while Apollo kept a hawk eyed watch for discrepancies in her words. Nothing contradictory surfaced and dipping her head politely, Ema whisked off the stand.

"My years of experience tells me this case will be a strange one," the Judge declared. Truthfully having one of Wright's employees already hinted at an anomaly. The defendant smirked from the dock, an eye-patch covering his left eye. "Weapons," the Judge faltered when a young man with a shock of spiky, blonde hair climbed on the stand. "Weapons are not allowed in court." He slammed his gavel decisively.

Unclipping the Buster sword from its harness, the witness leaned it against the wooden railing. "Cloud Strife," he replied to the prosecution. "I am a Mid-tier operative of the KBWA and a student of the victim. I preserved the crime scene."

In the gallery, Vanitas reared in his seat. "How come he's allowed to testify?" he pointed an incensed finger at Cloud. "He wasn't there when Zack died was he?" Tifa tiredly shook her head. "I want to testify too!" He glowered vindictively at Xigbar, thin tendrils of darkness coiling around his legs.

"Your testimony please." Sebastian peeked at Edgeworth and scooted further behind his bench when the sword edge glinted wickedly under the courtroom lights. "Tell us what you did on the day of the crime."

Effectively restraining Vanitas by squeezing his shoulder warmly, Tifa said, "Cloud's testimony is heavily altered." Vanitas rolled back his jacket sleeve to expose the beginnings of a bruise. "Presenting the facts will result in a guilty verdict; we cannot allow that to happen."

Why do you carry a weapon when your fists speak for themselves? Vanitas miserably massaged his shoulder. Pain pulsed across his muscles.

Gripping the witness stand, Cloud began, "I did not witness the murder. I arrived after Zack died and preserved the crime scene. There was a lot of blood." Strife deliberated his words. "And no sign of the perpetrator." He stared at Sora. "I covered the body and took this sword." He nodded to the weapon.

"Mr. Clavius, your cross-examination," the judge prompted.

Whenever a case involved the KBWA or Organization XIII, a high profile crowd filled the gallery. Men cloaked in dignity and experience, hair greying at the temples. Women observed the proceedings with a trained eye, already anticipating the events yet to unfold.

"Who... who asked you to preserve the crime scene?" Sora clutched his badge, the courtroom and its important viewers whirled around him. "More importantly, how did you know Zack died before you reached the crime scene?" he demanded. "The... the perpetrator could be hiding," Sora muttered indecisively to his dress shoes.

The witness glowered at the attorney. "Zack's vitals are digitally synchronized with the KBWA's mainframe. Only his," he clarified when the prosecutor raised a questioning eyebrow. "Leon, the boss, asked me to preserve the crime scene. I did not sense any perpetrator." Cloud's gloves smoked.

"Did you search for the perpetrator?" Sora countered, gulping nervously when Strife's irises sharpened indignantly. "You were too busy with preserving the crime scene weren't you?"

A deafening silence hung in the courtroom. The huge, gold motif of the scales of justice gleamed in the momentary beams of sunlight piercing through the clouds.

"I did not search the crime scene," Cloud blandly admitted. His forehead scrunched and he refused to comment further.

Confused, DeBeste drummed his conducting baton, a smirk breaking across his lips at the stalemate. Clavius did not have the confident glitter in his eyes today. "Your honor," the prosecutor squared his shoulders, "the attorney cannot make a convincing argument, therefore we can conclude the defendant is indeed guilty."

"Objection," Sora mumbled after a beat. "The defense asks the witness to elaborate the testimony. It's... it's vague." He tucked his chin in his scarf.

The Judge conferred with Sebastian, who in turn sought permission from Edgeworth. In the witness stand, Cloud smoldered, his blank mien showing signs of shattering.

"Soldiers trained in combat are highly attuned to their surroundings," Cloud passively aggressively began, the wood scorching under his palms. "I can sense hostiles in an area. It's intuition. Your brother will agree." Vanitas rubbed the back of his neck when a few people turned to him. "I don't need to search an area to confirm. I know the perpetrator escaped well before I arrived." Strife's jaw tightened. "There was a lot of blood on Zack... and no bullets."

What are you saying?! Sora fretted.

The Judge implored for a cross-examination.

Skimming through a hastily scrawled testimony, Sora presented a photograph. "The blood on the victim contradicts this evidence," he said and astonished gasps rippled through the court. "The body is cyro... cryogenically frozen, but as you see, there is hardly any blood on Zack. According to the autopsy report-"

"Xigbar killed him!" The witness-stand railing cracked in half. Cloud's gloves melted on his palms, red-hot with the remains of fira. "He uses arrow-guns which leave no residue behind," he desperately ploughed on. "Xigbar murdered Zack." He gripped a jagged beam of wood and pointed it to the smirking defendant. "He hardly has a lasting wound on his body." Strife let the beam drop, eyes clouding in grief.

"Hold… Hold it!" Sora paled in disbelief. "It's impossible for a weapon not to leave any evidence behind." He recovered his composure, strange how quickly the mind works when one's existence is threatened. "The crime scene contains holes in the pavement, those are a residue of sorts. And my client," the words stung like acid in his mouth, "has a slow healing wound on his abdomen." He presented a medical report and the doctor's comments in unintelligible handwriting flashed on the monitor for all to see.

Cowlick drooping, DeBeste mentally sorted through the witness' and attorney's banter. "Objection!" he called. The witness frightened him, an undercurrent of rage stiffed Strife's shoulders. "The report is difficult to decipher, why," the prosecution narrowed his irises mockingly, "you need a code-cracker to make out what's written there."

Covering his unexpected snort of laughter with a bang from the gavel, the Judge smoothed his robes and nodded sagely.

"Perhaps the problem lies in your inadequate education," Apollo callously delivered and Sebastian teared up. "Unless you want the defendant to come here and flash his wound? I assure you," Justice gripped his elbow, hazel eyed glower unraveling DeBeste, "it's horrific."

Grateful for his senior, Sora obsessively stacked his papers. "Your honor, I question the credibility of this witness," he stated. "He's falsely accusing my client of murder." Vanitas' stare sunk like embers in his back and Sora's hands trembled. "If I may add," he highlighted an observation on the autopsy report, "the victim has multiple wounds, all of them fatal. Judging by the edges of the cauterized injuries, the one right above his heart was the first shot. Do you... do you honestly believe a solider, however well trained, could inflict grievous injuries on Braig when they themselves are critically wounded?

"The victim wields the Buster sword," Sora drew attention to the clunky weapon, "and it's very heavy. Can the prosecution still claim the victim lifted this weapon seconds before death?" he appealed.

The judge listened to the lawyer's arguments. "It is true the weapon appears extremely hefty however Mr. Clavius," he stroked his grey-white beard, "I recall your brother using, what was it called now again? A Keyblade? And it came from a tiny device in the palm did it not? I believe the weapon used mythril as its choice of metal?"

Mythril doesn't exist your honor.

"In any case," the Judge continued, "Mr. Justice, to put everyone's doubts at ease, could you please... err pick it up?"

"Me?" Apollo scowled and the judge nodded. "Fine." He reluctantly grasped the sword hilt and strained to lift it. "My back's going to give out," he grumbled. "I can't pick this up, how does anyone use it?"

Cloud raised the sword with one hand, a blonde eyebrow arched. Pathetic, the unsaid words conveyed.

"There you have it," Sora pounded his fist on the bench. "The victim could not have lifted his weapon after he was shot." He decisively stated, praying for no-one to contradict.

The Judge conceded. "I see, the witness must be emotionally compromised," he delicately added and Cloud stomped away from the ruined stand.

"I can't watch this," Vanitas snarled under his breath. Below, his twin and the prosecutor heckled back and forth. "I'm going to the KBWA to blow off steam," he informed the vice-chief who distractedly nodded her consent.

Outside, the humid air pressed like a blanket and he waited for a cab. The KBWA issued him with an ancient flip phone and sliding in a taxi, he played a retro racing game while the car zoomed to the police precinct.

As usual, the foyer bubbled with activity. The presence of additional policemen did not stop Vanitas from subjecting them to water evaporating glare and stalking into the reception like the KBWA personally belonged to him. Belle politely tilted her head and the glint of silver hair betrayed Nox weaseling to the elevator the moment Vanitas set foot into the building.

Sprawled in a circular arm chair in the quiet lounge, Vanitas ruminated over the events in court.

Will Sora really get Xigbar the non-guilty verdict?

He was prepared to accept it; but the raw agony Cloud exuded, inflamed his own emotional bruises and the fathomless surge of fury roiled in Vanitas' veins. It dripped off him, puddling at his sneakers, covering the base of the arm chair and forcing the magic in the lounge to stagnate. Overhead, bamboo stem lights flickered. The waterfall whispered soothingly across the stone wall and he stewed in his poisonous emotions.

"Clavius," a voice rudely interrupted his sweet daydreams of murder and Vanitas lividly jerked his chin up. "Leon requested me to train you," Isa droned emotionlessly and the Keyblade wielder gaped like a fish. "Whenever you are free."

Unable to believe the Saix would be willing to train him, Vanitas smoothed his shirt and quickly untangled his messy hair. "I've been dying to get your autograph!" he exclaimed, frustration receding like a tsunami pulled backwards. "I'm free now," he stated expectantly.

A tendril of darkness wrapped around Isa's forearm and his eyes pulsed gold. "I don't give autographs," he droned, "and the training is scheduled later today." A medal on his chest depicted his High-tier status. "Right before dusk." Isa turned to leave, absentmindedly reaching to tuck his hair behind his ears before he remembered his hair barely reached his nape. "Don't be late."

"I won't!" Vanitas promised. "I'll bring my companions along," he added as Saix dismissively waved.

01:35 p.m.

District Court

Courtroom no. 1

Undeterred by the attorney, Sebastian tugged a navy blue over-jacket on his shoulders. Determined to prove the leering defendant guilty, he called the decisive witness.

The witness gracefully climbed the ruined stand. A forty-five minute break allowed a maintenance crew to hastily pin the wooden beams back together.

"Witness, your name and occupation..." DeBeste trailed off, startled by the sheer fright in the attorney's eyes. "Mr. Clavius, is there something wrong?" he inquired, copying Edgeworth's confident tone.

Its claws scraped the tiles, the monster tilted its head at Sora, two ivory tusks spearing from its bottom lip.

"You may call me Beast," the beast politely said. "I happened to pass by the crime scene when the murder occurred."

The bracelet bit into Apollo's forearm and he jabbed Sora in the ribs, baffled when the junior quivered.

A monster?

"Is everything fine?" Apollo whispered while the witness testified. "Sora?"

Wiping clammy palms on his slacks, Sora swallowed the ball lodged in his throat. "The witness," he squeaked. "The witness, is a monster," he whimpered and grabbed Apollo for support. "It's got these huge teeth and long claws and fur. It's got fur," he unnecessarily repeated.

The courtroom swayed under his feet.

Trying to be patient in the onslaught of Sora's loony ramblings, Apollo perceived the witness. Sure, the man was huge, with broad, powerful shoulders and thick, hazel brown hair plaited in a ponytail, but either than his stature, he appeared like any other normal witness, albeit an elegantly dressed one.

"He seems fine to me."

"Of course he seems fine to you!" Sora snapped. "You don't have second sight. Mr. Wright... mystic Maya and Pearl know he's not human. How did the prosecution get their hands on him?" Sora hysterically gripped the ends of his scarf. "This case isn't' making sense, why did I get it?" he moaned. "Where... where is Vanitas?" Sora wildly searched for his twin, the space next to the vice-chief remained suspiciously empty.

Imploring for a moment to calm his spazzing co-worker, Apollo gently clasped Sora's shoulders. The attorney protectively shut down, refusing to acknowledge the snidely twittering gallery questioning his competence. A man wearing a monocle and sitting directly behind Trucy smiled reassuringly to his neighbor; softly citing he had full belief in the defense's determination to prove the defendant innocent.

Hearing the comment, Sora looked up and the man acknowledged him with a nod. Cold. The viewer radiated a black hole intensity, and Sora miserably turned to the prosecutor impatiently smacking his conductor in a gloved palm.

"Since the attorney calmed down," Sebastian mockingly announced, "Mr. Beast, please reiterate your testimony. I'm sure Clavius heard none of it."

Arranging his cravat with a wicked claw, Beast explained, "The murder occurred around late afternoon. The deceased was investigating the crime scene area and his huge sword snared my attention." He cleared his throat. "The defendant wore a black, ankle length coat, the standard uniform of Organization XIII and shot Mr. Fair several times." His words lulled the court into silence. "A few hours later, the blonde haired man arrived to preserve the crime scene as he stated. Approximately half an hour later, a woman joined him." Beast extracted a gold-leafed pocket watch from his double breasted jacket. "Another hour later, a screaming young man arrived, he," the witness bowed to the attorney, "bears a striking resemblance to you Mr. Clavius."

Freezing when Beast addressed him, Sora obsessively ran a thumb across his badge. "We're twins." He waited for the Judge to begin the cross-examination. "Mr. Beast how did you know Organization XIII managers wear black, ankle length coats? It could be Xigbar's preference-"

"Hold it!" Debeste cut in, "this line of questioning is irrelevant." He obstinately bent his conductor. "What does clothing choices have to do the murder?"

"-for dressing predominantly in long, black coats." Sora powered on. "Please elaborate."

"I know they are the preferred clothing because Organization XIII has been hunting me," Beast evenly replied.

Teeth gritted, Sora implored for help. Justice rotated his bangle and hawkishly studied the witness. "He's lying about his circumstances," Apollo informed. "He can't help it, he does come from another world; however, the rest of the testimony is true." His hair horns drooped. "I think he knows the number of times Braig shot Zack."

Murmuring in agreement, Sora pressed, "From your testimony, I reckon you were situated close to the victim?" Beast did not reply. "By several shots, can you give us a... uh... an approximation?"

"Five." Beast said. "Mr. Fair did not die after the first shot, he slashed Xigbar twice." The Judge's blinked in surprise. "The first wound is at his throat, the second across his abdomen."

"Objection." Again, Sora hesitated and to silence the audience, slammed his hand forcefully. "The autopsy report and this photograph," the courtroom's dual monitors exhibited Zack's frosted body, "only shows four wounds. If indeed you witnessed the crime as thoroughly as you stated, you would not make such an amateur mistake."

A gust of wind battered the windows, the afternoon sun choked behind ominous clouds.

Worried by the prosecutor's shark smile, Sora waited for him to make an argument.

"Attorney, you proved the defendant has a slow healing abdominal wound." In the gallery, Edgeworth grinned like a proud mentor. "Your honor, may I ask the defendant to show us his neck? We will know once and for all if Mr. Braig was present at the crime scene or not."

"Hold it!" Sora urgently scrabbled for a counter-argument but the Judge callously ruled in the prosecution's favor. "Wait... you can't..."

I made a promise to myself.

The defendant climbed the vacated stand, sneering at Beast who flexed his claws threateningly. A charcoal turtleneck sweater, bearing the Organization XIII's logo, hid Xigbar's neck from view and he peeled the clothing apart.

Never to defend guilty clients.

Sora's stomach coiled like a nest of vipers when Xigbar revealed a swathe of blood spotted bandages around his throat.

Dusk settled in waves of colors. Red. The tint of fire. Of passion. Axel's hair color.

His friend remained in the infirmary, the barest vital signs indicating the struggle between life and death. During visits, Isa talked to him, feeling stupid for prattling to someone who never responded, but the vice-chief urged him to talk and he hesitantly poured out the deeds he done while on the Special Assignment. Obeying. Pretending.

Murdering.

Hating.

"I'd like you to train Clavius this evening," Leon requested. Saix despondently slunk out of the infirmary. Another day of watching over Lea breathing into the mask clamping his face. "You can't go on like this," Squall's tone softened, "you will jeopardize further missions you are assigned to."

Isa consulted a moon phase calendar permanently wedged in his back pocket. "Tonight is the full moon. You are well aware of it."

Squall shrugged. "It'll be good to get everything out of your system. Like a purge." He dug into a cold breakfast sitting on his table for the last two hours. "Vanitas will be able to handle you, I'm confident." The chief rubbed his scar thoughtfully. "He is fond of challenges."

"You have no idea what I'm capable of in my berserk state!" Isa fought the darkness under control. His eyes flashed gold and back to lunar blue. "If you are sick of him, I'll be happy to get the Black Saint out of your hands." A derisive smile crawled across his lips. "Make sure you clean the training chamber properly."

A headache pulverized his temples.

Pain crawled behind his eyes and settled there.

As if ridiculing his efforts to remain sane, the full moon rose early, drifting elusively between thick sheets of salmon pink clouds. Cramming a handful of tablets in his mouth and swallowing them dry, Isa leaned against the complex's beige, blank walls. Barely did he close his eyes and a cacophony of voices exacerbated his pounding headache. The Black Saint and King Mickey's court magician traded a slew of insults and unable to help himself, a tiny smile mellowed Isa's pained frown.

"God damn duck, I'll drizzle you with olive oil and stick you in an oven," Vanitas threatened, "can't you be like Goofy for a change?"

Donald irritably fluttered across the ground, two golden cuffs gleaming in his wings, "And can't you act responsibly for a change?" the magician countered. "We are supposed to work together. This training is for the three of us, not you alone!" the duck stressed. "The more we improve our teamwork, the better you will be able to use team-attacks."

Relenting, Vanitas checked the stock of potions rattling at his waist. "I'm told you are extremely strong so I came prepared." He lazily saluted to Isa. The inner chamber hissed apart and a digital image stitched the slate walls. "I'll be sparring against you alone," Vanitas added.

"Not a wise choice." Saix summoned his claymore. The weapon's sharp ends catered the concrete ground. "I swear not by the moon," he whispered. Silver moonlight spilled through the floor to ceiling length window, illuminating the crescent studs in his earlobes. He spun around, jacket a royal blue blur, and chucked Lunatic across the chamber.

The Black Saint ducked in record time as a man sized hole blasted through the wall.

Piles of papers littered the wrap-around table in the office. A bank of monitors displayed schematics and lines of code. Growling, Isa retrieved his blade. Bashing it on his table, he swiped, throwing documents and several laptops to the ground. He screamed, the noise raked through Vanitas like knives, and stomped on the cracked devices. Grabbing Lunatic, he lunged for the Keyblade wielder.

Two become one shining brightly, Vanitas placed mines on the floor and zigzagged across the office, the faintly glowing strips popped indiscriminately and he blanched when Saix barreled through, not pausing to diffuse the mines nor bypassing them. The detonations singed Isa's jacket and he relentlessly chased Vanitas.

And swung Lunatic at the Black Saint.

Twisting, Vanitas brought his keyblade to parry; instead, Isa whipped around and switched Lunatic from his right to his left hand. The spiked edges clubbed the side of Vanitas' head and he screeched. Blood erupted from his temple.

Hands shaking, he popped a potion and drowned it. The firebrand pain billowing across his head tempered into a dull ache. He scrambled backwards when Isa plunged the claymore forward. The tip snagged Vanitas' foot and he sliced Saix's face.

"Impressive." Isa's eyes pulsed gold and he touched the blood trickling down his cheek. "Very few can cut me and live to tell the tale." He chuckled when a barrage of firaga assaulted him and grunted in approval when Vanitas used the fire to mask his presence.

Petals of velvet darkness strung the air and Vanitas slashed. He retreated in alarm when his opponent made no effort at blocking and absorbed the strikes. Saix's sleeves tore. Deep cuts welled crimson pearls of blood on his chest and gnarling, he struck Vanitas' side and the spear projections punctured deep.

Guzzling another potion, the Black Saint flung the bottle at Saix who crushed it with a snarl of unadulterated rage.

Is Saix okay? Vanitas worried. Sticky rivulets of blood matted his hair and oozed through the holes in his ribs. He cast cure and shrieked in pain when the claymore stabbed his shoulder. Two Become One twisted out of his grasp and Vanitas desperately rolled towards the fallen keyblade, snatching it mere moments before Isa reached him.

Isa jumped and landed frighteningly close to Vanitas. The floor cracked under impact and a shockwave shattered the monitor screens. Several went blank, some flashed error warnings.

Moonlight clawed into the room, congregating around the raving member. Saix minced his desk into matchsticks, his eyes blazed eerily and the scar in his face deepened, darkened. A cyan, sickle moon tattoo glimmered on his right, upper arm and as Vanitas tried to get behind him, Isa spun on his heel like a ballerina and slammed Lunatic on the Black Saint.

The organic body suit deafened the force of the blow but it still punched the air out of Vanitas. A raging storm of fire incinerated the papers and desk and Saix brazenly stalked through it, bashing several blizzaga icicles honing on him.

He blocked an initial strike from Vanitas whacked the claymore across the Keyblade wielder's face.

Blood burst into Vanitas' eyes. The Keyblade dissolved and he whimpered in pain. Fragments of his smoky, glass helmet pierced his cheeks and he irritably wrenched the headgear off. Isa bludgeoned him. Vanitas crashed against a pillar in the middle of the office, broke through it and came to a heaping stop on the wall.

He slid to the ground and nursed his broken arm. An attempt to move his leg resulted in an agonizing pain shooting up the base of his spine.

Isa approached, dragging Lunatic on the floor. Metal grinding on stone. Without warning, he buried the spiked edge deep into Vanitas' thigh.

"Please stop!" he pleaded. "I can't... I can't fight-" A slap to his chin dislocated his jaw and he groaned in pain. "Sora..." Vanitas cried, tears mixing with the blood trailing from his eyes. "He's going to kill me." He kicked Saix in the shin and regretted it when the insane operative dangled him by the ankle and flung him on the ground.

A sharp, sharp ache washed over Vanitas before he mercifully lost consciousness. Blood poured from his mouth and ribs. The wound on his head oozed sluggishly. Saix raised his weapon, to clobber the Black Saint into a pile of splintered bones.

Illicit

Late-night

Chief Prosecutor's chambers.

"I do not deal in this type of information, Wright."

DeBeste fast asleep and curled on Edgeworth's couch surprised Phoenix.

The caramel haired prosecutor blinked and shuffled out of the office at Miles' insistence and Wright dropped on the maroon couch.

"Organization XIII is comprised of not-humans known as nobodies," Wright read from the file on the walnut coffee table. "Did you review the information before giving it to me?" he queried.

The chief prosecutor adjusted his glasses. "I find it difficult to believe the information I received, however," he tapped his temple, "it is the truth. No matter how bizarre."

"Nobodies," Phoenix mused. "I'm defending a murderer." He studied Miles. "I can't let anything happen to Trucy, or to the agency. I can't plead for help to the KBWA and if they investigate, it might prompt DeKiller into action. What should I do?"

Sipping a cup of Earl Grey tea, Miles regarded the files Phoenix messily spread over the table. "You are doing what you think is right," he said. "You will find a way out of this," his friend managed a laconic smile. "You always do."

A/N: If anyone was wondering, Xigbar's wounds we reopened by Vanitas battering him around in the previous chapter.

Read and review! Help Edgy cope with reality. (Why didn't I make Larry a character in this fic?)