June 16th, 11:35AM

District Court

Courtroom No. 2

Phoenix stared wide-eyed at Sydney, a grip of shock and terror tightly holding him. The noise of the surprised gallery was muffled as he was unable to rip his mind away from the implication his very presence meant. I've seen Maya spirit channel the dead before, but this is something on a whole other level! He just SUMMONED this guy like it was nothing. As soon as he accepted the reality of what he saw, he couldn't help but dwell on the second bit of bad news this meant. And now Death is gonna have him testify about his own murder. He shakily looked over to Benson's unconscious form, wondering how he was gonna get him out of this.

Mordecai and Rigby were gobsmacked, in awe of seeing Sydney at the witness stand. "Dude, no way…" Mordecai said in a breathless whisper.

Rigby could only nod. "I know…" He said as he examined him. "He's looking pretty healthy for someone that got killed."

Mordecai, dumbfounded by his friend's priorities, turned to him. "Yeah! 'Cause that's the important thing here, Rigby," he spouted incredulously. "Not the whole, you know, thing about him being the guy that DIED."

Rigby nodded, tilting his head. "You know, I was gonna try to call Death out on summoning like a fake witness or whatever, but he does look pretty nerdy enough to be a librarian."

Mordecai wanted to slam his fist against his own head repeatedly, but he settled for rubbing his hands hard against his face.

After a moment stuck in stupor, the Judge quickly got himself back together and banged his gavel to silence the court. "Order! Order I say!" As soon as the gallery's gossip died down, he took a moment to address Sydney. "I must say young man, this is a first for me. I haven't had someone bring the deceased victim themselves to appear before the court."

Sydney looked around the court slowly, taking in his surroundings as ghostly noises escaped his mouth. As his eyes settled back on the Judge, he began to speak. "This…" he started, his ethereal vocal chords straining. "Is…" He moaned out the next word, a ghostly echo feeling the court. As he took in one more eerie breath, he let out a squeal of excitement. "AMAZING!"

Any haunting harmonic from his voice quickly evaporated as he feverishly began touching the witness stand, giddy as a child being taken to their favorite play place. "I can't believe it! I'm actually in court!" He excitedly pointed over to Phoenix. "You! You must be the defense! And on the other side here, oh yes! The prosecution!" His cheeks practically raised up to his eyebrows as he happily floated about the courtroom, zig-zagging with reckless abandon to anything that interested him. "And you're the Judge! And this is the gallery—pleasure to make your acquaintance, by the way!" He was too excited to notice the look of horror on the gallery's attendees as he flew by them. He shot up squarely in the middle of the room where he let out an impossibly delightful gasp, realizing his situation. "Is there a trial happening right now? Oh! My! GOODNESS! I haven't been this excited since-"

"Mr. Wordy!" Death shouted as he slammed the butt of his scythe against the floor, strictly straightening his shoulders in an authoritative manner. "Calm down, ya nut! Ya gonna scare the whole court to death like that! And I already 'ave enough on my plate that I don't need to add a mass ferry to the Other Side on my to-do-list today!"

Sydney quickly piped down and nodded with respect before floating back to the witness stand. "Oh! My apologies, Mr. Death. I just couldn't contain my excitement of actually being in a court of law!" He then scratched his chin in thought as he looked around the courtroom. "I have to ask though, why am I here? I thought you said you were finalizing some preparations before our journey to the beyond."

Death rubbed his face with his free hand before answering, dropping the formal voice he held during the trial. "Working on it. Unfortunately a certain spiky headed twat here is trying to cock it all up!"

Phoenix shot him a glare. "Sorry, due process takes a while Death," he said without a drop of actual remorse. "But everyone has the right to it. What's with the rush, anyway? Sounds like you guys have somewhere to be."

"Great observation, Captain Obvious," he muttered before he formally addressed the court. "Ladies and gentlemen, the prosecution would like to apologize for the sudden disturbance my client's arrival may have brought. But circumstances being what they are, I had to call him in on short notice." He then turned his attention to the Judge. "Your honor, Mr. Wordy here has a place he needs to be, so the faster he can give his testimony the faster I—being the ferryman of souls—can see him there."

The Judge nodded in understanding. "Of course. We wouldn't want to keep him for long."

Death gave a respectful bow while still holding his scythe. "Thank you for understanding, Your Honor."

Phoenix looked between the Judge and Death, feeling like the odd one out in this town of odd balls. I'd ask how everyone is just fine with a ghost taking the stand, but honestly this isn't the weirdest witness I've had.

"Though before we start," the Judge began. "Bailiffs, can you please see about getting someone to look at the defendant? He appears to be out cold."

The bailiffs had been so absorbed by everything that they forgot about the very person they were supposed to be guarding. One of them quickly got Benson up and sat at the chair while the other left to find help.

Death cleared his throat before addressing Sydney. "Mr. Wordy, please testify as to what happened to you on the day of the… er, your murder."

Sydney looked at him with glistening eyes of joy. "You… you want me to testify in court?" He brought his hand to his cheeks, almost swooning at the thought. "Oh, Mr. Death! You're granting me one last wish before I leave this mortal coil for good! I can't thank you enough!"

Death rubbed his head as an ache began to invade it. "Yeah. The honor is all mine," he deadpanned.

Rigby giggled as he watched the scene. "Dude, this guy's way too into this boring stuff, and Death is totally all grumpy about it!" He gave Mordecai a nudge with his elbow before pointing over. However he seemed too preoccupied with something else. "Bro, you good? You look like you've seen a ghost." He briefly looked over at Sydney. "Well I mean, not THAT ghost."

Mordecai looked up at him, incredibly worried. "Dude, this is bad! If that Sydney guy fingers Benson for the crime, how the heck is Phoenix gonna argue against it?"

Rigby thought about it, realizing just how bad his presence meant for their case. "Dude, we gotta do something then! Quick, do you know how to knock out a spirit?"

"Rigby!" Mordecai was appalled by his brash action plan.

"What!? He's already dead! It's not like we're gonna make him, you know, more dead."

"Dude, we can't just knock a dud out in court! Do you wanna go to jail too?" He looked back over the situation, trying to find some way to reassure both Rigby and himself things will be fine. "Besides, there's no way Benson killed this guy, and Phoenix can totally prove it!" He looked down to the same man he acquired the utmost confidence for. He could see him using a tissue to wipe the stress-induced sweat from his forehead. He had piled a mountain of them to this point and the tissue box was already empty. Mordecai started validating Rigby's concern. "I mean… it couldn't hurt if we tried to help him out."

Rigby pumped his arms with resolve and excitement. "Now you're talking! Got any ideas?"

Mordecai racked his brain for a plan, something that could help in any way. "Well we're not gonna knock him out, for one thing. But we can probably find a way to give Phoenix an edge."

"Like a sword," Rigby asked curiously.

"No, dude," Mordecai deadpanned. "Like an advantage." Mordecai eyed the situation before them. His gaze drifted over to Death's table as he was organizing some papers on it. An idea suddenly came to him. "Death's been pulling out a lot of tricks from his sleeve. What if we took a look at what else he's got?"

The both of them shared a devious look with each other as they hummed in agreement, before they carefully began slipping out from the gallery.

Having gotten himself back together, Phoenix straightened his tie and readied himself as Sydney began to speak. Don't lose hope, Phoenix. Just be ready for anything.

WITNESS TESTIMONY

-The Day I Died-

"I woke up and was mortified to find out I was late for work. I quickly got myself ready and headed straight there."

"I quickly opened the library for business and started right away on my tasks. At 11:30, a gumball gentleman came in wanting to return a book."

"I informed him it was late and that's when he started to get very violent. He began destroying the library left and right!"

"I tried telling him to please calm down, but he wasn't having any of it. Next thing I know I was struck on the head and everything went dark."

"When I came back to reality, I had thought I was regaining consciousness. It turns out I became a phantom, hovering over my own body…"

The Judge had his eyes closed in solemn thought as he mused over Sydney's testimony. "Forgive my sudden silence, it's just quite chilling to hear of such an event from the victim himself."

Sydney scratched the back of his head, an apologetic look on his ghostly features. "Oh! I'm sorry, your Honor. I wasn't sure what else to say but the truth. It's the most important thing in court after all!"

Judge shook his head. "Oh, no apology needed Mr. Wordy. You did a fine job testifying. I must say, it sounds like you have quite the enthusiasm for the court of law."

Sydney immediately beamed with delight as he heard the praise, speaking rapidly in excitement. "I do in fact! I've always wanted to be part of the legal system when I was young! I was studying to become a lawyer myself and was happily making head way in college along-"

"Ahem!" Death cut him off with a cough. "Yes, you did a very good job, Mr. Wordy." He looked up to the Judge with a satisfied grin. "Well, Your Honor. You can't get more concise than the statement straight from the dead man's mouth." As he spoke, he shot a sinister sideways glance as Phoenix, a devilish curve to the side of his smile. "So if you would be so kind as to declare your verdict, me and Mr. Wordy will be on our-"

=="OBJECTION!"

Phoenix swiftly cut off Death's attempt to rush things with a powerful point of his finger as he declared his stance. "Not so fast, Death! The Defense still needs to cross examine the witness!"

Sydney perked up even more. "Oh! You are correct, sir! Every witness testimony requires a thorough cross examination. Isn't that right Mr. Death?"

Death's eye twitched as he gripped his scythe angrily. "Mr. Wordy," he said as evenly as possible. "Please allow the court to decide these things." He then glared at Phoenix. "And as for you, you irritating git, what the heck else do you want from the poor man? He's the VICTIM! Are you honestly implying that he's lying about his own murder?"

Phoenix gave a determined, unwavering stare back. "I'm not implying anything. But I have the right to cross examine any witness you call to the stand, victim or not!"

The Judge nodded in agreement. "Indeed, Mr. Death. A witness is a witness, and everyone that testifies in my court requires a cross examination."

Death grunted in frustration as he pleaded with the Judge. "Your Honor, the defense is clearly looking to badger the witness for fruitless information! Don't let him bully this court into prolonging this trial any longer than is necessary."

The Judge stared down at him sternly. "Mr. Death, we are NOT going to break the rules of this court just to speed up the trial." He looked back to Phoenix. "Mr. Wright, please proceed."

Phoenix smiled, placing his fists at his waist as he gave a smug look over to Death. "Thank you, Your Honor."

Death gripped his scythe with both hands, seething in rage. "You're making a big mistake here, Wright," he muttered under his breath."

Sydney was also whispering in private to himself. "This is so exciting!"

CROSS EXAMINATION

"I woke up and was mortified to find out I was late for work. I quickly got myself ready and headed straight there."

=="HOLD IT!"

"'Mortified,'" Phoenix echoed in wonder. "Was it an important day that day?"

Sydney shook his head. "I mean, everyday is an important day! But no, there was nothing noteworthy happening. I just simply pride myself in being timely. So when I saw I was late, I was dumbfounded and embarrassed, honestly."

Phoenix nodded. "So you just immediately got ready and headed straight over. No detours or anything?"

"No sir," Sydney said expertly. "I arrived at 10:32 AM! June 12th! Just about thirty two point eight minutes late for work," he chuckled nervously. "Oh how I will never live that down."

Phoenix raised his brows at how specific he was about the time. "You know exactly how long it took to get there?"

Sydney nodded proudly. "Of course! Timing is everything as they say!"

Phoenix shrugged. "I mean, considering that you're dead now, I can't imagine being late for anything is a big concern for you anymore."

Sydney looked at him shocked, feeling utterly offended by the statement. "I'm sorry, 'Mr. Wright' is it? I'll have you know that one's own mortality doesn't and shouldn't excuse tardiness! The fact that my last day alive was spent being late for work is something that I'll have to carry for the rest of my unlife!"

The Judge nodded sternly. "I agree! Honestly, Mr. Wright, have you no shame? After all, our own tardiness prolonged this trial longer than it should. No more being inconsiderate to the witness or you will be held in contempt!"

Phoenix was dumbstruck by the sudden backlash he was receiving. "But I wasn't trying to offend him! I was saying…"He sighed in defeat. I don't even know what I was saying anymore.

Death gave a small snicker at Phoenix's misery before clearing his throat. "Is there a relevant question here, or is the defense wasting the court's time again?"

Phoenix gave up on the issue and shook his head in frustration. "No. Let's move on to the next statement," he said as he mulled a bit on Sydney's mannerisms. Man, he's pretty serious about time. I wonder if he also forgot what day it was that day. Or, was that today? Phoenix bit his lip in mild annoyance. I don't even know what day it is anymore at this point.

"I quickly opened the library for business and started right away on my tasks. At 11:30am, a gumball gentleman came in wanting to return a book."

=="HOLD IT!"

"Did anyone else arrive other than him," Phoenix pressed.

Sydney shook his head. "No, and it was a relief! Could you imagine the embarrassment I would feel if someone came during opening hours and COULDN'T get in. It would be the death of me!" He then took a moment to review what he just said. "Well, would have been, I suppose."

Death interrupted him for a moment. "For the sake of the court, could you confirm if this gentleman is here in the courtroom?"

Sydney nodded. "Yes I believe he is currently unconscious right over there." He pointed squarely at Benson's unconscious form sitting at the chair.

The Judge looked over at him and nodded. "He is indeed the one accusing himself of the crime. Speaking of him, have we found any medical attention for him yet?"

Suddenly the doors to the courtroom opened up to reveal a tall well dressed man in glasses and a short bailiff entering. "Not to worry everyone, we've come to help," the man loudly announced. "I'm a doctor that was in the other courtroom and heard that urgent medical attention was needed!"

"Yeah, what he said," the bailiff pointed out.

The Judge looked at them. "Oh! What a good coincidence, then! Thank you for coming, doctor. I hope we haven't interrupted whatever business you had here."

"No need to worry your head over that, Your Honor," the doctor proudly exclaimed through his face mask. "Will you be needing any other assistance today?"

The Judge shook his head. "No, no. We just needed the defendant here examined." The two of them then stared at each other from across the courtroom for an uncomfortable couple of seconds before the Judge spoke up. "Are you going to assess his condition now, doctor?"

"Oh right," he muttered under his breath before him and the bailiff went to Benson's aid. As they did, they began whispering to each other.

"You think they're onto us," Mordecai asked.

Rigby looked up to him, tipping the bailiff hat up to look. "Nah, we got 'em fooled." He walked up to Benson and began waving his arms around as if to address a crowd. "Alright, clear the patient, the doc's got important work to do."

The other bailiff that stayed with Benson looked down at Rigby. "I'm the only one here. And I don't remember seeing you working here before."

Rigby waved the suspicion off. "I'm new. The, uh, other guy got sick and got sent home early, so they called me in. Anyway, what are you doing? Can't you see the doc needs some space?" He tried to shoo the other bailiff away. "Come on, let's go! Doctor-patient conscious reality and all that."

The actual bailiff looked over to Mordecai in disguise as he knelt down next to Benson. "Uh, yeah. What he said." The bailiff was about to make an objection when he interrupted him. "Well what are you doing standing there, dude- I mean, man!?"

The bailiff was taken aback by the outburst and felt lost. "Why are you yelling at…"

"Can't you see this man needs air!? Make room this instant!" Mordecai cut his sentence short.

The bailiff gave him a scrutinizing look, though struggled to maintain his air of authority. "But there's only three of us, there's no crowd."

Mordecai immediately raised his voice, driving home the dire feeling he was conveying. "For goodness sake, get out of here so I can save a life!"

Rigby immediately began shoving at the bailiff's legs, urging him to get a move on. "You heard the man! Get moving and, I don't know, get a doughnut from the break room or something!"

Stumbling over himself, the bailiff scrambled for the door and rushed out at the behest of the two would-be authority figures.

The Judge spoke up with a stern clearing of his throat. "Excuse me but is the commotion over there done? It's quite distracting."

Not wanting to face the Judge's wrath, Mordecai and Ribgy kept to themselves as they tried to pantomime the professions they were trying to pass off.

"Now then," the Judge began. "Mr. Wright, you were saying?"

"Oh right," Phoenix said before focusing back on the trial. "You're positive no one else came in? Not even to try and investigate the commotion," Phoenix pressed Sydney even more, hoping to drag out some detail that could contradict his testimony.

Sydney would not budge however. "I'm fairly certain, sir. And if one did come in, I certainly would have remembered, as I would have pleaded for help during an assault!"

Phoenix grunted but ultimately relented. No way I'm believing they were the only two in the room. But right now I don't have anything to prove it. "Let's continue."

"I informed him it was late and that's when he started to get very violent. He began destroying the library left and right!"

=="HOLD IT!"

"What exactly did he do," Phoenix pressed.

Sydney gulped and shook as he recalled the incident. "An easier question would be what DIDN'T he do. He screamed out expletives, made a mess of the counter, called me things I dare not repeat in this court, threw several tables, was threatening to smash the grandfather clock I paid out of pocket for-"

"OBJECTION!"==

Death rubbed his head, a pain only Sydney was able to inflict on him. "Mr. Word—ugh! I mean, Mr. Wright, are you going to insist the witness describe every little thing the defendant destroyed? The evidence of the wrecked library should speak for itself!"

Phoenix was curious why Death desperately wanted to keep Sydney from rambling. Is he trying to keep him from saying something damning or is he just… annoyed that he talks so much? He cleared his throat to address the concern. "Just being thorough is all." And to be honest, just REALLY fishing for something to use right now. "How about when you woke up? Was he still conscious?"

Sydney shook his head. "Oh no, not immediately. It took him roughly fifteen minutes to get up before he examined my corpse." He visibly shivered. "Still feels so uncanny, that thought."

"And you're certain it was exactly that time," Phoenix asked.

Sydney nodded with prides, crossing his arms as he gave a confident nod. "I am VERY good at telling time. I'm sure of it!"

Phoenix nodded, keeping the detail in his head for later. "Very impressive. Could you tell us what he was doing when he got up."

"Yes," Sydney replied. "He stood still, as if in shock, before he tried to rouse me awake. He even tried CPR on me, which I applaud him for his effort, but unfortunately by that time it was far too late. After that, he called 911 and they showed up five minutes later."

"Which aligns with everything that the police have already shared with us in the report," Death said dryly, exaggerating a look of boredom with his hand bracing his chin up. "Any other useless questions?"

"Just one," Phoenix said sharply. "Where was Benson when he first woke up?"

"He was right next to my now shattered grandfather clock," he said solemnly. "Seriously, that thing was very expensive."

Death piped up again. "Are you going to have him tell us each exact position of every book too, Wright?"

Phoenix shot him a glare. "No. Moving on."

As Phoenix continued his cross examination, Mordecai continued looking over Benson, trying his best to act like he knew what he was doing. "Yep," he said with a faux confident chirp. "Classic case of, uhm, no consciousness." He darted his eye around the room, seeing if anybody was eyeing him suspiciously. It seemed they were too absorbed by the proceedings to notice him. He breathed a sigh of relief before looking over to Rigby who had been slowly inching his way to the prosecution table.

As he got closer he looked up at Death, annoyed and murmuring words to himself as he dug the butt of his scythe against the floor in frustration. Rigby couldn't help but give a quiet snicker at the sight. It would not be quiet enough though as Death turned a scrutinizing eye at him. Rigby stared back like a deer in headlights before he immediately stood up straight and gave him a salute. "Sir," he blurted out, not knowing what else to say.

Death regarded him for a moment before snorting and standing back up straight, imposing and stoic. Rigby sighed in relief, now waiting for the opportunity to pilfer through Death's belongings.

"I tried telling him to please calm down, but he wasn't having any of it. Next thing I know I was struck on the head and everything went dark."

=="HOLD IT!"

"Before you lost consciousness, what was the last thing you remember?" Phoenix asked.

"As I said, being struck on the head," Sydney replied.

"I'd like to hear details, Mr. Wordy," Phoenix said, pressing the matter. "Struck on the head with what and by whom?"

Sydney jolted his shoulders as if he was surprised by the question. "Oh! Of course, I'm so sorry. You're right, details are imperative in these types of cases." He took a moment to think on it, scratching his transparent chin in thought as he gazed upward. "Yes, I remember now! The gumball gentlemen threw the late book he had at me. That's when I lost consciousness."

Death quickly spoke up, relieved Sydney was finally able to plainly tell what he wanted him to. "See that, Wright? All that cross examining and all you did was have the victim retell what we already know AND what your client already testified to!" He looked up to the Judge impatiently. "So Your Honor, if we could please put an end to this charade and have your verdict?"

The Judge nodded. "It does seem this hasn't gone anywhere, so if Mr. Wright doesn't have anything else to add-"

Phoenix slammed his hands down on the table and pointed at Sydney. "I'll need Mr. Wordy to add what he just said to his testimony."

Death threw his hand in the air in utter aggravation, letting out an enraged grunt as fire lit up in his eyes. "For the love of… WHAT ELSE do you want, you blue-suited git! Dunwoody did it! Wordy confirmed it! You're dragging this whole case out for NOTHING!"

Even the Judge rubbed his temple at the thought. "Mr. Death may have a point, Mr. Wright. But…" he sighed, knowing that he'd have to grant the request either way. "In the sake of fairness, would the witness please add his last statement to his testimony.

Sydney wasn't sure why it mattered, but agreed all the same. "Well, if it pleases the court…"

"The last thing I remember before my untimely demise was the gumball gentleman throwing his late book at me. It hit me right on the head, and was the blow that killed me."

=="OBJECTION!"

Phoenix's righteous call out was enough to make Sydney shrink back in worry and awe. "Oh my," Sydney began, not sure whether to be impressed or scared by the act. "That was exhilarating, and… wait. Are you implying that I've FALSIFIED my testimony!?" He asked in shock.

"You tell me, Mr. Wordy," Phoenix challenged him. The reaction encouraged him to keep pressing on in his pursuit. "If Benson throwing the book was the thing that killed you, then why does your autopsy report say your death was caused by repeated blunt force trauma?"

For the first time in the trial, Death was taken aback, gripping both hands on his scythe for support as his glasses fell from his head. "WHAT!?" He blurted out in stunned aloofness as the gallery gasped in surprise.

Phoenix quickly took out the report and tapped expertly on the line he was referencing. "Read back the autopsy report yourself, Death. Sydney's head was hit by the book multiple times, and yet here he is claiming that Benson threw it at him instead of hitting him with it!"

The Judge's eyes widened, reading back over it himself. "That is quite the discrepancy for the victim to make! Mr. Wordy, can you explain this?"

Sydney, looked at his hands nervously, racking his ghastly brain for answers. "I… my apologies Your Honor, I'm at a loss for words. The book being thrown is indeed the last thing I remember."

The Judge shook his head. "That unfortunately does not line up with the events as the court has been told Mr. Wordy. Mr. Death, do you have a possible explanation for this?"

Death quickly picked his glasses back up and began looking over the reports, snapping his fingers to summon ethereal hands to help hold pages for him as he skimmed through. "I'm sure there is, Your Honor, if you could give me just a moment…"

As he searched, something fell from the whirlwind of papers and landed right at Rigby's feet. He noticed the item and bent down to pick it up, examining it to find it was a picture. From what was on it, he guessed it was a photograph of the crime scene, seeing a part of a wrecked library complimented by a chalk outline of a body, and some evidence tags. "Sick," he said in disgust, realizing that in that outline was once a corpse. Then he felt exhilaration fill in him, realizing this could be something that could help Phoenix. "Sick," he said excitedly, as he quietly inched away from the prosecution's table. He didn't know why, but his gut told him this photograph would be important.

Meanwhile, Phoenix crossed his arms, a big cocky smile on his face as he saw Death scramble for ammo against his defense. He couldn't lie to himself, it felt good to see the smug look on his face be wiped off, now replaced with panic and desperation to wrestle back control of the situation. After so long, he finally found himself ahead of the prosecution. That's it, Phoenix. With one lie found, the whole story falls apart. Just keep cool and confident. Don't look impressed by the fact that he can summon ghost hands to help look through files for him… even though I kinda wish I could do that. He took a bottle of water supplied for him and uncapped it to take a rewarding sip. You don't need other worldly powers, just your good old brain and wits to…

"OBJECTION!"==

Phoenix immediately spat the water back out and looked over at Death, who had gotten back his confident look. AW COME ON! What now!?

Death gave an evil snicker under his breath, picking his glasses back up and putting them back over his eyeless sockets. "What was that you said earlier about your client's height, Mr. Wright?"

Phoenix almost forgot he had brought that up, the very argument that forced Death to call upon Sydney as a witness. "That he's too short to have been hitting Sydney on the head."

"Then what if we said he didn't have to be the same height as him?"

Phoenix raised an eyebrow, not exactly sure what Death was playing at. "Now how does that make any sense?"

Death walked around his desk and began pacing with a cool and confident, intellectual step as he spoke to Sydney. "Mr. Wordy, you said you remember nothing at all between Mr. Dunwoody throwing the book at you and realizing you have died, correct?"

Sydney nodded. "Yes, it really is all that I can recall."

"Then the answer is obvious," he said as he turned to face the judge with a sure-fire conviction. "It's clear what happened. Mr. Dunwoody first threw the book to knock Mr. Wordy to the ground." He then took his free hand and pantomimed the motion of swinging an object downwards. "It was then that he must have proceeded to savagely beat the victim over the head with it while he lay unconscious on the ground."

The gallery went into a low murmur of gossip as Death's theory wormed its way into their minds like a snake.

Phoenix scrambled to wrestle back the win he had got. "That still doesn't explain how Benson ended up next to the grandfather clock." He pointed to the diagram. "Recall in his testimony that he remembers waking up next to it! The diagram clearly shows his position is too far from Sydney's. Wouldn't he be right next to his body if what you're saying is true?"

Death shook his head in disappointment. "Really, Wright, do you think that can easily explain the little gap in the memory of your client? Mr. Wordy said that Mr. Dunwoody came in at 11:30am. The murder happened at 12pm. A LOT can happen in thirty minutes." He then theatrically pointed his scythe back to the screen. "After dealing the killing blows, Mr. Dunwoody then must have gone on to thrash about the library until inevitably, he knocked the grandfather clock down over himself, AWAY from the body, thus explaining their strange placement."

Phoenix did not relent, slamming his hands down on the table as he countered Death's argument. "And what about your client's recollection? Clearly he doesn't remember a whole lot between the book being thrown at him and waking… er, rising up as a ghost!" He turned to the Judge with a plea. "Your Honor, it's clear that any concrete retelling of the events are too shrouded in unknowns to say definitively that my client killed Mr. Wordy!"

Death swiftly brought his scythe back down, the butt slamming down onto the floor, as he shot a dark and infuriated glare at Phoenix. "Then what other proof is needed? In fact, there's nothing that could point to the contrary! Both the defendant and victim were not cognitive during the murder. All we have is the book which Mr. Dunwoody had ownership of, the confession from him, AND the fact Mr. Wordy HIMSELF is confirming it!" He walked right up to Phoenix's table, bearing down on him with an infuriated gaze lit up by otherworldly flames that danced out from the edges of his glasses. "I ask you, Mr. Wright, WHAT OTHER PROOF do you need?"

Phoenix leaned in, getting ready to go nose to phantom-nose with him if he had to. He was not shaken nor dissuaded, and the barely controlled rage of a being greater than him would not change his stance. "More than what you're implying with baseless conjecture, you scythe-wielding bonehead!"

Death had subconsciously readied his scythe, doing away with any notion of formality and seriously considered beheading Phoenix if just to get him to shut up. "Keep talking like that, and I'll 'ave yer soul sitting nice 'n pretty my collection, ya yap-mouthing tosser!"

The Judge brought his gavel down with absolute iron authority, giving a terrifyingly commanding glare to the two. "ORDER! You two have exactly five seconds to break it up before I hold BOTH of you in contempt!"

With their bitter flames extinguished with the Judge's words—in Death's case, literally—the two slowly backed down, though Death chose to remain in the middle of the courtroom rather than return to his table.

"Now then," the Judge continued. "Both sides do have a fair amount of points. But Mr. Death's point does still stand. We have a murder weapon, a confession, and testimony from the victim himself. Though in fairness, I do have to ask you a question, Mr. Wright."

Phoenix looked up in anticipation. "Yes, Your Honor?"

"Do you have anything that can prove Mr. Dunwoody was unconscious during the murder," he asked.

Phoenix shook his head. "Well, no sir, but I'm sure with more time to investigate-"

The Judge cut him off before he could finish his thought. "Unfortunately, Mr. Wright, the physical evidence against Mr. Dunwoody far outweighs whatever theories you can come up with."

Phoenix couldn't believe what he was hearing. "But, there's a mountain of answers in this case that don't add up, Your Honor! Benson is right handed, the victim said the book was thrown at him, even the height difference…"

"And they are all only theories, Mr Wright," The Judge said. "Good theories, mind you, but nothing to prove them against the facts and evidence before us. On top of that, Mr. Death has reasonable explanations for each one, even outright proof against some. Do you have anything that can definitively say that Mr. Dunwoody could not have committed the murder in the time between his arrival and Mr. Wordy's death?"

Phoenix had nothing. Nothing to prove otherwise, nothing to shed an incredible mountain of doubt against the prosecution's case. Is… is this it? Do I really have nothing? I don't have any hard evidence that proves Benson was unconscious during the killing. He tried to steel himself, to remind himself that this couldn't be the end. No! I've been backed into a corner by worse claims before. There's always something I can find, something I can use to turn things around. He thought and thought, going over the court record again, but nothing came to mind. Nothing jumped out to pull him out of the sea of despair he was now drowning in. He had nothing. He dejectedly brought his head down and closed his eyes before he finally relented. "No, Your Honor," he said sadly.

The Judge sighed, almost feeling pity for him. He recalled all the stories of the great Phoenix Wright winning case after impossible case. But now here he was defeated, and The Judge himself being the one that had to give the verdict that would make it so. "Then it would seem that this case is as clear cut as it seems. If there are no other statements to be made, I'm ready to deliver my verdict."

The gallery was stunned into silence. Not a murmur or word escaped their mouths.

Death turned away from Phoenix and smiled to himself. He hated to admit it, but he put up quite a fight, however fruitless it may have been. But it was over. He finally proved his case and put this whole matter to rest.

Sydney looked on in awe as The Judge came to his conclusion. He knew he was telling the truth, and he felt proud to have Death stand up for his testimony. Yet he also felt a small sense of guilt as he saw Phoenix defeated and at the unconscious form of Benson, knowing that he's not even aware that the trial had finally tightened a noose of judgment around his neck. He meant no ill will to either, but what else could he say but what he believed to be true.

Mordecai observed it all with every fiber of his being standing on edge. It looked like Death had finally triumphed over Phoenix, and at that moment he was too scared to do anything but watch. He suddenly felt something tug at the jacket he borrowed. He looked down to see Rigby waving around the photograph in his hands. "Mordecai," he exclaimed. "Check it!"

Mordecai looked at him, remembering what the two of them were doing in the first place and anxiously questioned him. "Found something?"

Rigby nodded feverishly. "Just a piece of evidence that Death conveniently decided not to show."

"Dude, nice," he exclaimed as he grabbed it and looked it over. His excitement then slowly started to fade. "Rigby, this… this is just a picture of the crime scene! How does this help?"

Rigby shrugged, offended to be put on the spot. "Hey man, it was in Death's files! Aren't those important and stuff?"

Mordecai facepalmed. "The Judge is literally about to give Benson a guilty verdict, dude! How's a picture gonna help-" He stopped himself as he noticed one, seemingly important detail in the photo, one that became insurmountably important when paired with the question the Judge asked earlier. "We gotta give this to Phoenix," he said immediately after coming to this revelation.

"Ha! Told you I was right," Rigby exclaimed.

"Yeah, we'll celebrate later. Come on!" As he turned back to look at the court he could see the Judge getting ready to bring his gavel down.

"For the murder of Sydney Wordy," he began.

Mordecai knew there wouldn't be enough time between The Judge passing his verdict and explaining to Phoenix the importance of the evidence.

"I find the defendant, Benson Dunwoody…"

Rigby nudged Morecai's leg. "Dude! Do something, or Benson's going down for good!"

Having no time to think of anything else, with all the courtroom drama happening around him, Mordecai could only think of one thing to do to stall the Judge. He took a deep breath.

="OBJECTION!"=

The Judge froze, the gavel still hanging in the air. Phoenix and Death looked to him in shock as the gallery all let out a collective gasp. All eyes were now squarely on Mordecai as he held up the photo. "Um…" He felt like he was under a microscope all of a sudden, all eyes transfixed on him as they waited in silence for him to make his play. "We, I mean I have crucial evidence that this court needs to hear!"

"WHAT!" Every single soul in the courtroom exclaimed.

"That's right!" Rigby said, pointing at Mordecai. "It's true folks, he has it all right there."

Death gave them both a scrutinizing glare, angry that his victory was stalled again by some nonsense. "I don't know what any of this is about, but it doesn't matter! The Judge was just about to give his sentence. This trial is over!"

Mordecai stepped forward, not afraid of Death or anything else that courtroom. "It's not over until the fat lady sings. Or in this case…" He triumphantly held the evidence in the air. "Until the court sees this!"

The Judge silenced the once-again animated gallery before questioning him. "And what is this evidence, doctor?"

"Well you see, here I have a picture of the crime scene! A picture, I might add, helps explain when Ben—Er, Mr. Dunwoody became unconscious!"

Death immediately recognized the photograph, and he was not happy about who was holding it. "Where did you get that?" He quickly turned towards the Judge. "Your Honor! Have this man arrested! He stole evidence from the prosecution table!"

The gallery gasped, but Mordecai remained unfazed. "Evidence that you were totally keeping from the court!"

"Because it's completely irrelevant," he yelled before approaching him. "It's just supplementary material that I didn't need. Now give that back, you lanky little-" He suddenly found himself tripping and falling onto the ground, his scythe clattering to the floor and his sunglasses falling off. He violently turned his head towards the source of his fall and found Rigby prone right in the path that he walked, giving him a sly smirk as he met his gaze.

"Bailiff," the Judge yelled. "What on Earth are you doing!?"

"Stopping this turd from winning," Rigby replied.

Death angrily kicked Rigby, sending him crashing at the base of The Judge stand before beckoning his scythe and glasses back to him with an invisible force. He got up and made his menacing way towards Mordecai. "Listen 'ere, Mordecai. I ain't playing games. Give. Me. That!"

Mordecai was taken off guard by him saying his name. "I-I'm not Mordecai," he said, nervously raising the photo up as a shield. "I'm just a doctor!"

"You do know I had you two clocked the minute you came back in with those useless disguises, right?" Death said menacingly. "I didn't make a fuss 'cause I figured you'd be too stupid to do anything effective. Now I'm about to fix that mistake."

Mordecai started backing up. "H-hey, take it easy, dude! We're in a courtroom, remember?"

Death snapped his fingers, and bony hands shot out of the linoleum floor to halt Mordecai's backwards advance. He fell backwards only for another legion of hands to catch him and thrust him back upward for Death to get up close and personal to him.

Mordecai quickly looked at Phoenix and reared the photo back in his hand. "Phoenix, catch!" He tossed it over to him before Death could grab it with his hand.

Phoenix looked in shock as the photo came flying at him and stopped perfectly right in front of his face, held in the air by a ghostly hand. As it floated, he could clearly see what was on it before the hand floated back toward Death, who held out an outstretched hand to intercept it. He snatched it and stuffed it back in his jacket, as he addressed the Judge. "Now if the circus is over, Judge! Your verdict!"

The Judge was in a stupor himself at the rapid spiraling of the events happening before him. "But wait, what about the bailiff and the doctor? Who are they and how do you know them?"

"THE VERDICT!" Death demanded as flames shot from behind his glasses.

The Judge quickly nodded. "O-of course! As I was saying…"

=="HOLD IT!"

"The defense demands that the prosecution submits that evidence to the court record!" Phoenix yelled as he pointed an accusatory finger at Death.

Death shot angry glare at Phoenix. "Not another word out of you, dimwit! The Judge is speaking!"

The Judge scrutinized the situation. "Yes, I am. And I would certainly liked to know why you're being so frugal with that evidence, Mr. Death."

Death grunted. "It's a photo of the crime scene. As I said, supplementary material provided to me by the police. I held on to it thinking I would need it, but it turns out I didn't. So if there's nothing else..."

Phoenix pressed the demand. "I argue the court has a right to look at it!"

"It's irrelevant!" Death insisted. "Do you really think me presenting this is going to suddenly give you a grand revelation, Wright?"

"Prove me wrong then," Phoenix countered. "Present that evidence so we can see just how irrelevant it is!"

"I'll do no such thing," Death said, crossing his arms. "You can't ask anything else of the prosecution. You clearly conceded your case!"

"Enough!" The Judge yelled. "Mr. Death, for the sake of this court's sanity and mine, present that evidence for the record at once!"

Death sighed, dragging his hand over his face before relenting. "I honestly don't see the point, but fine!" He pulled the photo back of his jacket and showed it to all the courtroom. "As you can see, it is a simple photograph of the crime scene taken during the investigation."

Crime Scene Photograph

A photograph taken of the library after the murder. A broken grandfather clock can be seen and it reads 11:45.

Death glared at Phoenix. "There! I showed all my cards, Wright! I'll even let you and the court look at my belongings. You'll see I have nothing else to hide."

Phoenix nodded and smiled as he put his hands on his hips. "Good! 'Cause that's everything I need to prove Benson couldn't have killed him."

Death let a bellowing laugh, finding Phoenix's relentless arguing to be funny at this point. "Oh, do tell, Wright? Just what in this photo could possibly prove that?"

"You tell me," Phoenix said, pointing towards the photograph. "What does the time on the grandfather clock say?"

Death gave the photograph a look. "11:45. What does it matter?"

"Let's go back over the autopsy report. 'Time of death was 12:00pm.'"

The puzzle pieces finally came slamming down hard on Death's head. The bony hands holding Mordecai up vanished in an instant, unceremoniously dropping him to the ground with a thud. All Death could manage to say to the revelation was a single word with numb and dead delivery. "What."

Phoenix was all too happy to spell it out for him. "How could Benson have killed someone," he began as he righteously slammed his hands down on the table. His pursuit was back on. "While he was unconscious before it took place?"

"Oh," said the surprised Judge.

"Oh…" Said the shocked Sydney.

"Oh!" Exclaimed the over-excited gallery.

"OOOOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHH!" Bellowed Mordecai and Rigby, ignoring the pain from their scrape in order to rub it in Death's face.

Phoenix continued, like a train filled to bursting with fuel on a non-stop track to victory. "Recall earlier Benson said he regained consciousness right next to the grandfather clock with a headache, and that Sydney confirmed he woke up next to it as well." He emphasized the photo in Death's hand once again.

Death quickly shoved the photo back in his jacket, trying his best to not look ashamed from being outplayed.

"It's clear that Benson's black out wasn't just some rage induced euphoria, but was him getting hit on the head by that clock!" Phoenix continued with deterministic conviction. "And having fallen on him, it had to have broken at the time it fell down. 11:45am! A whole fifteen minutes before the murder took place."

The Judge pondered on the theory. "But could it be possible that he got up earlier than that?"

Phoenix shook his head, not ready to back down now. "Remember Sydney confirmed he woke up after he was killed. I truly find it hard to believe he got up, killed him while he was a good few feet away, and then walked right back to that spot to fall unconscious."

Death wiped sweat from his brow, cursing at the feeling of vulnerability he suddenly felt before attempting a counter. "Perhaps… the clock could have had the wrong time in the first place!"

Phoenix wasn't going to let Death slip away from this one, and certainly not with a weak argument as that. "Oh really? Let's ask Mr. Wordy then, the one who 'takes time VERY seriously!'"

Sydney squeaked from the sudden attention placed onto him. "O-of course I wouldn't leave a clock set to the wrong time. It was certainly correct at the time of my death." He looked to the side, concentrating on math in his head. "But then how could he have the time to do it," he asked himself at a genuine loss.

Phoenix couldn't help but give a cocky smirk. "Doesn't seem likely he could have attacked you then, does it?"

Sydney looked around, utterly lost and confused by this revelation. "Yes. I MEAN, no! I—I don't know who else could have done it! He was the only one there," he yelled in desperation.

"Well I believe someone else WAS there," Phoenix said and then looked up to the Judge. "Your honor, given this evidence, I believe we must extend this trial for another day in order to investigate further into this discrepancy. That is unless…" It was finally his turn to look menacing to his opponent. "The prosecution has some kind of argument otherwise."

The Judge looked at the person in question. "Well, Mr. Death? Do you have any objections?"

Death steamed, literally. Smoke began to slowly eek out form behind his glasses as they began to visibly melt on his face. Green flames burn through, brighter than they had before, completely incinerating whatever remained of them. Death's face was contorted into a twisted scowl of rage, his teeth grinding to the point he began shaving of undead enamel off. He gripped the scythe harder and tighter, with such immense strength until finally it snapped in half in his hand, the head clattering to the floor and letting out a loud clang.

And then there was silence. The courtroom watched in quiet contemplation as they waited to see what he would say or do next. In an instant he closed his eyes, snuffing out the flames in them before taking a deep breath. He then snapped his fingers as a ghostly portal opened below the remains of this staff, sucking them in before closing. With another snap of his fingers, a portal opened above his where he held out his hands to effortlessly grabbed a new scythe and pair of sunglasses that came falling out. He held the scythe at his side and put the new glasses on before finally exhaling. He then crossed his arms and looked upward at nothing. "No," was all he said with a dry, emotionless cadence.

The Judge nodded. "Very well." He then banged his gavel. "Then this concludes day one of the trial. The prosecution and defense will investigate this case further, and reconvene tomorrow to present their arguments."

Phoenix poked his head out from behind his defense table where he hid. Upon hearing the gavel, he figured it was finally safe to come back out. "Th-thank you, your honor," he squeaked out, trying very hard to avoid Death's gaze.

Upon hearing this victory, Mordecai and Rigby immediately met each other in the center of the courtroom before high fiving each other. "Yeah," they repeatedly chanted the whole way.

"In yo' face, Death," Rigby exclaimed, pointing his finger at him.

"Your crummy lawyer skill couldn't handle our awesome defense attorney," Mordecai sang.

Faster than any human eye could see, Death swung his scythe in a circle motion, and cleanly cut off the disguises that two wore.

The Judge blinked upon recognizing the two. "Hold on. Aren't you two from the gallery? I had no idea one of you was a doctor and the other worked here."

Mordecai and Rigby looked at each other, no words being able to describe how baffled they were by how clueless the Judge was. They looked over to Phoenix as if he would have an answer.

Phoenix gave them an innocent shrug. Yep. One-to-one copy of the judge I know alright.

The Judge cleared his throat. "If there's nothing else, this court is adjourned."

Before the Judge could begin to get up however, an angry grumble started bellowing out from the witness stand.

Sydney was hunched over, shaking violently as his whole apparition began to shake and rumble. It became clear the noise was him growling angrily as he spoke. "That can't be right! I swear it was him!" All of a sudden he began to swell in size as his shade of a ghostly white began to brighten into a bright and violent orange, the air around him beginning to rise up in temperature.

Death approached, Scythe readied as he talked to him in a stern voice. "Sydney! Remember what we talked about. You know what I gotta do if you-" He was cut off by flames that suddenly shot up and engulfed him.

The courtroom door opened where the bailiff Rigby sent away stood, a box of doughnuts in hand. "Alright, I got the doughnuts like you asked. Now can you tell me why-" The box immediately ignited in his hand, spreading to his sleeve and forcing him to run away in a panic.

The automated sprinklers above turned on, but the water evaporated as fast as it hit flames. The whole courtroom grew in a panic as people began to run for the fire exits, dodging the flames that violently began to erupt around. The Judge looked on in shock as his whole courtroom was set on fire. He tried to escape but the flames had already blocked off his route to safety, even dancing on his table. All he could do was stand back and try to shield himself for whatever good it could do.

Sydney shot up, his once calm and polite face warped into a hateful, demonic terror that craved vengeance. "I'VE HAD ENOUGH," he yelled, voice booming against the walls. "I'VE BEEN WALLOWING, SAT DREARY IN THIS AWFUL LIMBO, WANTING FOR THE EMBRACE OF FREEDOM! YET STILL I'M CHAINED TO THIS COIL BY FIENDS THAT LIE!"

Phoenix, Mordecai, and Rigby gazed upon the terrifying sight. The heat was suffocating and threatened to do them in before the fire could. Sydney however had different plans for their demise as he fired out a stream of flame from this mouth, careening towards Phoenix. Mordecai and Rigby quickly sprinted for him and jumped over the table to tackle him to the ground, just as the fires shot past.

"What's gotten into him," Phoenix exclaimed, overwhelmed by how violent the situation had turned.

Mordecai and Rigby helped him get up as they started to make a run for it. "I don't know, dude," Mordecai said. "But he's about to burn this place down with us in it!"

"We gotta get out of here before we're toast," Rigby yelled.

Mordecai stopped the sprint however. "Wait, we gotta get Benson!"

They all shot a look at Benson, still unconscious and unaware of the danger they were in. "Come on," Phoenix ordered as he led the charge towards him.

More flames erupted and were lobbed at them as they narrowly dodged each one, minds all focused on saving the very person they were here for. As soon as they reached him, they began to shake him in the hopes that he would wake up.

Benson's eyes began to flutter open as sensation returned to him. He felt hands on him and heat circling around as he was shaken awake, his mind rushing back to consciousness as he realized something was wrong. He looked quickly at the group in a panic. In an instant his eyes snapped onto the now demonic Sydney and let out an ear-piercing scream as he saw a fireball angrily thrown at him. The group pulled away as the projectile smashed against the chair and instantly disintegrated it. As they recovered from tossing themselves to the floor, Benson asked the obvious. "What the heck is happening!?"

"Angry dude! Wants us dead," said Mordecai very directly.

"What did you do?"

Rigby replied. "We didn't do anything! Phoenix was winning and the nerdy guy totally snapped!"

Benson looked up at the looming image of Sydney. "THAT'S the guy I killed?"

"YOU DIDN'T KILL HIM," all three of them yelled as flames began to dangerously lick at them. "Can we all talk about this AFTER we get out of here," Phoenix yelled as he began to drag Benson towards the exit.

However, fire erupted and cut them off, trapping them in. Sydney floated over, consumed with rage as he focused all his attention on Benson. "IT HAD TO BE YOU! IT COULDN'T HAVE BEEN ANYBODY ELSE! EVEN YOU ACCEPT THAT! YET THERE ARE THOSE SO FAR REMOVED FROM SANITY TO BELIEVE THE OPPOSITE!" His infuriated gaze now washed over the remaining three of the party as he stretched his flaming arms around them, causing them to cough as the heat and smoke became unbearable. "NO MATTER! I WILL TAKE JUSTICE INTO MY HANDS! THE INTOXICATING RELEASE OF REVENGE!"

As Phoenix sat there with the group, his heart sank as his mind raced with unwanted thoughts. Is this it? Is this how I'm gonna die? As he coughed uncontrollably, he shot a pained look to the people he promised he would help, the same that were now suffering the same fate as he was. I tried, guys. I really did! I gave you all my promise that I'd help, but… looks I won't be able to keep it. I'm sorry. Amidst the imminent doom he faced, his mind settled back once again on the ad that got him here, and thought to spend his last moments cursing himself for not living up to it, just as he feared.

But instead, he thought about a familiar sound that erupted from behind Sydney. Wait… that's a motorcycle.

Suddenly green flames slashed at the fires above Sydney, eating them to clear a path as Death rode above on his motorcycle with Scythe in hand. With a twirl the green flames became portals that began devouring the demonic flames, banishing them from existence as he descended down. Upon landing he drifted around Phoenix and the gang, severing Sydney's arms and banishing away the flames that surrounded them. With the area cleared they gasped for the air they so desperately needed as it flooded back. Sydney screamed in pain as he recoiled, arms beginning to reform at the point where they were cut. Death swiped his scythe right in the front of the group, producing an ethereal shield around them that kept the remaining flames at bay.

"Stay here, ya idiots," Death told them as he revved his engine and rode towards Sydney, bringing up his Scythe to form a tendril that shot out and latched onto Sydney. He tried to rip it off but to no avail, as Death began to drive circles around him, the tendril acting as a rope that restrained him. As soon as he made his last pass, he hopped off and skidded to a stop, pulling Sydney down and causing him to slowly shrink to his normal size. As he did, the flames all began to die out on their own, losing their catalyst and getting overtaken by the water still falling from the sprinklers.

As the smoke cleared, the Judge dared to remove his hands from his eyes, seeing the same shield that covered Phoenix and his friends before it dissipated, allowing him to stand up and survey what just happened. "Oh my," was all he managed as he looked upon the damage. Flame marks dotted the courtroom as many of the wood finishes had become singed in black and orange, charred and ruined. Any cloth was tattered and smoking, and everything had become drenched.

Phoenix and the rest finally got up, looking upon Death and the now normal Sydney.

Sydney looked up, no longer angry but scared and confused. He surveyed the damage and recoiled in horror at the sight. "My word! The courtroom! Did I…"

Death snapped his fingers, getting his attention. "Oi! Don't you remember what I told you? About keeping yourself under control?"

Sydney gulped and nodded. "Y-yes, but the stress and the intensity of the questions were becoming so much and I…" He stopped himself, looking down with closed eyes and solemnly admitted what he had done wrong. "I could not control myself, Mr. Death. I'm so sorry." He looked back to the gang, tears beginning to well up in his eyes. "I'm sorry! I just wanna move on!"

Death shook his head, as he detached the rope from his scythe and then used it to slice a new portal open, which he pointed Sydney towards. "Look, just go back and try to relax. Remember to stay calm and just let me handle all of this." He spoke as if he was a parent chastising a child. "Now get!"

Without another word, Sydney traveled through the portal before it closed behind him, vanishing from the courtroom.

Phoenix and everyone else were too stunned to even respond right away, unsure what to make of what just happened. One minute they were all about to die, and then the next, Death came swooping in like some angel sent to save them all. The irony wasn't lost on Phoenix as he spoke up. "What… What in the world just happened?"

The Judge nodded, leaning against his desk to both calm himself and make a demand. "Yes, Mr. Death. Would you mind telling us why the witness just tried to burn down my courtroom?"

Death sighed, pushing up his glasses and rubbing his temple as addressed everyone. "Your Honor, I'd like to apologize for my client's behavior. I didn't want to bring him here in the first place." He lowered his hand and gave Phoenix the most genuinely frustrated look he had given him the whole trial. "But of course, this stubborn muppet just needed to keep pushing until I had to call him."

Phoenix suddenly got defensive, stepping forward to confront Death's claim. "How did me trying to get to the truth of this murder cause this," he asked, gesturing to the destroyed courtroom.

Death lowered his sunglasses and crossed his arms as he answered. "Let me give some supernatural entity 101. You see, Sydney is stuck in a state called Limbo."

Phoenix recognized the term. "You're talking about the state between life and death, right?"

Death nodded. "Exactly. Any soul that becomes trapped in it stays bound to the mortal coil as a ghost, a phantom, what have you." He waved his hands as he named off the different descriptors for spirit before continuing his point. "Point is, they're stuck. Unable to move on for one thing or another. In this case, it seems Mr. Wordy is stuck because his murder remains unpunished for his crimes." He gestured towards Benson.

Benson looked down, trying to warp his head around all this. "So you're saying that he's a ghost because I haven't been proven guilty yet."

Death nodded. "If a spirit stays stuck like that, they go crazy, consumed by their emotions until they turn into a spirit of vengeance. That's what just happened now, and it was only a taste of it."

Phoenix blinked at the revelation. "You mean that wasn't even the most dangerous who could become?" He shivered at the thought, looking around to the damage he had already caused in his rage.

Death nodded as he gave him a stern look. "Imagine that, but five times worse. And if I got it right, we have about two more days before that happens."

Rigby spoke up. "Okay, but can't you just do that thing you did with the ghost rope and the portals or whatever?"

He gave a grave shake of his head. "Once he's transformed fully, no power can contain him. What I did took a whole lot of effort to pull off, but even I won't be able to keep him restrained when he permanently snaps." He pointed his scythe towards Benson. "And by that point, there's nothing you can do to keep him from coming after you, and he won't stop there. He'll take it out on your friends, Wright, anyone and anything he'll please. Spirits of vengeance can go as far as destroying a whole city."

Mordecai gulped. "What do we do then if he, you know… goes nuts forever," he asked for clarification.

Death responded with a heavy fact. "At that point, the only way to stop him is to…" He took his thumb and made a slicing notion across his neck.

Benson spoke up, his voice shaky. "But he's already dead. How do you make him more dead?"

Death shook his head grimly. "There are fates worse than death. I'm talking your-soul-being-erased-from-existence worse."

The Judge closed his eyes, shuddering at the thought. "To imagine, a sentence worse than a guilty verdict. I can't even begin to imagine how horrible that might be."

A chill ran down Phoenix's spine as he realized just how high stakes this case was. If I can't find the real culprit in time, I'm gonna be responsible for either the biggest wildfire in history or an innocent victim suffering something unimaginable. He took a deep breath, steeling himself. "So then we have to catch the real murderer and soon."

Death grunted in frustration, feeling as though he had just explained himself for the umpteenth time to a child. "For the last time, ya git, the real murderer is right next to you! The more you drag this out, the more danger you put all of us in!"

Benson shrunk back, conflicted by all the information thrown at them. But Phoenix was unshaken in his belief. "You're pretty smart, Death," he said. "You have to be able to see that there's something missing in this story just as well as I do. If you don't wanna prove it, I will!"

Mordecai and Rigby nodded in agreement, bolstered by Phoenix's resolve.

"Yeah! We're gonna find the guy that did it," Rigby began.

"And we're gonna prove just how wrong you are," Mordecai finished.

Death shook his head, fed up with their stubbornness as mounted his motorcycle. "Keep telling yourself that, but don't come crying to me when you end up charbroiled." He snickered. "Maybe then I can add your souls to my new collection. At the very least something good will come out of all this."

They both stared daggers at him as they reflexively shielded Benson. "In your dreams, loser," Rigby shouted.

Mordecai followed up the taunt. "We'll see how sure you are when we totally blow this case wide open!"

"HA! Keep telling yourselves that" Death taunted. "Now if you excuse me, I have some more investigating to do if you all wanna see another day. Thanks, Wright," he said sarcastically. He then turned to the Judge. "Oh, and Your Honor…"

The Judge had been so absorbed in the entire conversation that it took him a moment to register he was being spoken to. "Oh! Y-yes, Mr. Death?"

"I do like to apologize for the damage Mr. Wordy caused," Death said. "If you send a bill of the damages to me, I'll be sure to reimburse the court."

The Judge was pleasantly surprised. "Why thank you, Mr. Death! I'm sure we will be needing all the help we can get to fix the damage."

He bowed from his seat. "Think nothing of it, Your Honor."

Phoenix rolled his eyes at the obvious sight of brown nosing. He really is a prosecutor. Rich, puffy, and buying the Judge's favor.

Death snapped his fingers and a portal appeared beside him. "I'll be seeing you tomorrow, Wright! You better come prepared," he said with a wicked grin before popping a wheelie into the portal and vanishing through.

Thus concluded the first day of a long trial ahead.