The Puzzling Adventures of Edgar Cipher Chapter 1 - Frozen In Time, a professor layton fanfic

Here's the next chapter :)

FanSuperAnime - That's good to hear, thank you so much for reading. I'm so excited for the next game; after watching the latest trailer I'm becoming more hopeful. The artwork also looks really cool. I hope you'll enjoy the next chapter.

Fiction Fan 369 - Yep, Edgar and Emmy are not the sort of people to be naive to romance or anything (unlike Lewis, Charles and Night Terror from my other stories) and I think, by now, they have recognised that they have some feelings for each other and not fall into the usual romcom trope. And yes, this is going to hurt.

That's perfectly fine if you don't have suggestions, It's always best to ask. Maya is definitely Edgar's type (i.e female) and I can only imagine the headache Layton and Phoenix will had to endure. Edgar solving a Phoenix Wright case would be cool, I'll have to jot it down somewhere. Thank you for reading and I hope you'll enjoy this chapter.

atomical- I know right! I almost yelled in joy when I saw the trailer. I'm optimistic that it will be great; the art style looks great, a new exciting story to unravel, and new places to explore…things that Millionaire Conspiracy were lacking…ahem.

Thank you so much for reading, I'm glad you enjoyed it and I hope you will like the rest of the arc. In regards to Fish and chips; my go to option is salt and then vinegar and I have a pool of ketchup on the side. I like how the salt and sour vinegar mix together into one flavour.

Mampp- Haha! As if Edgar could date somebody as classy as Meryl Streep. I'm still decided on Angela, but I starting to think she should. I just need to go write her in that seems natural and not forced. Thanks for reading.

Dikratsblim - Glad to hear, it's good to be back in the habit and I can now move on to the Azran arc and then the original trilogy.

I couldn't believe it either; it just came out of the blue. Let's hope the Flora and Emmy are in it as well. Especially Flora since she's hadn't been seen since her cameo in the Eternal Diva movie. If not, then I have some plans for her in this story. Hope you'll enjoy the next chapter.

djinn - I only just discovered Mansion of the Deathly Mirror by chance while the New World of Steam had just been announced. I'm very excited to start writing about them or, in the latter's case, play it. Thanks for reading.

wellingtonlucas282 - No problem, thank you for reading.

Thanks for reviewing.

Chapter 1: Frozen In Time

Alps Mountain Range, Eastern Austria

The Bostonius airship sped through the serene blue sky and glided over the white peaks and the graceful valleys that was spread out endlessly below them; the snow that laid gently on the rocky landscape and the green, vibrant pines glistened and sparkled prettily with the light of the bright sun.

The sight of the mountain range was phenomenal for somebody like Edgar; miles and miles of rugged terrain stretched beneath him like a pure white and dark grey carpet was unimaginable for a young man who had lived the majority of his life in London; he had hardly looked away from the porthole window on the side of the airship ever since they crossed the channel. Emmy, ever so often, would look up from her book she was reading on the sofa and watched the amazed expression on his face from across the room; she would smile and chuckle quietly to herself at his, rather adorable, reaction before going back to her book. However, it was until Raymond, who was piloting the airship from its helm, cleared his throat that they looked up from what they were doing.

"We are approaching Froenborg," he grumbled out, "Our ETA is ten minutes so please prepare for landing."

"Thank you, Raymond," Layton said as he turned away from the wall map he was observing, "That didn't take long; this is quite the airship that Professor Sycamore has."

"Indeed," Raymond sighed as he looked over his shoulder, one his bushy eyebrows raised slightly, "The Bostonius had many surprises hidden within its metal exterior."

Edgar would have questioned the odd wording of what he said when the airship flew over once last peak and he suddenly caught sight of their destination. Froenborg was built upon one of the smaller mountains of the Alpine range; a simple mountain village made of orange brick buildings and wooden huts with narrow streets and even narrower stone stairs that wound its way upwards towards the peak. Every single thing, from the sloped roofs of the lopsided houses to the paved roads down below, was covered in white, glistening snow; some were merely thin sheets while other places were almost six feet thick. The local villagers, wrapped up in thick coats and hats, didn't seem to mind and as they trudged through it as they went about their daily business, however they did look up when they heard the Bostonius sped its way towards a small airport located outside the city gates. Edgar felt a hand on his shoulder and glanced up to see Emmy look over him and out of the window he was looking out through with an excited grin.

"Wow! It's beautiful. I would love to live in place like this… well, maybe if the weather was a little warmer," she joked, "I can't believe that a ordinary-looking village would hold such a discovery like Sycamore's 'living mummy."

"Well, we didn't think we would find a prehistoric sea creature in Misthallery or a lost island off the coast of Cornwall or a entire city underneath another city," Edgar sighed, "this 'living mummy' sounds much more tamer than what we usually go for."

"Let's prepare for landing," Layton told them as he searched through his luggage for his winter jacket, "and be sure to wrap up warm."

Outside Froenborg

Despite the peaceful trip, the Bostonius landing was far less graceful due to the cold winds and the slippery ground which made the execution go off-course; after four attempts, however, Raymond was finally able to land the airship at the small airport just outside the village walls much to everyone's relief. The door opened and the passengers stepped out of the warm airship and into the harsh snowy weather of Froenborg; now wearing that winter clothes.

Edgar, who left his leather jacket onboard, now wore a black ulster jacket, a pair of leather gloves and his yellow and blue stripped scarf around his neck; he insisted on still wearing his flat cap but made sure to pull it down so it covered the tops of his ears.

Layton wore a tan buttoned-up coat over his usual black jacket and orange sweater as well as pair of grey woollen gloves and ear muffs over his head. Like Edgar, he still insisted on wearing his stove pipe hat despite having little protection from the weather.

Finally, Emmy wore a bright yellow shearling coat which had a white fleece interior, yellow gloves and a black Cossack hat that covered the top of her head. Edgar couldn't help but blush slightly when he saw her in the outfit; something about a person wearing winter clothes whilst surrounded by a snowy landscape was really attractive. He looked away before she could spot him staring at her and looked towards the entrance to Froenborg.

The village gate towered over them from above; a structure made of orange brick and grey stone forming into a giant arc with two round barbicans on either side of it. A set of stairs built upon the rocky mountainside was the only route up and through it which had a light dusting of snow upon it. Beside the stairs was a large friendly-looking sign which welcomed visitors to the village in German, Italian and English and a round hut made out of ice blocks that was home of the airport groundskeeper.

As Layton was talking to the groundskeeper, Edgar spotted a fresh patch of fallen snow on the ground next to the road. He glanced over at Emmy, who was busy inspecting the igloo, before a smirk appeared on his face; he reached down and subtly scooped some snow up, rolled it into a ball and then turned around; however. he stopped suddenly when he saw Emmy staring at him with a suspicious look in her eyes. He was quite surprised, but then his eyes drifted down to her right hand which was holding something; something that, interestingly enough, dripped water droplets onto the ground.

The two stared competitively at each other.

"Hey Emmy," Edgar finally said, in an even tone, "What's in your hand?"

"What's in your hand?" she responded in the same tone.

"I asked you first."

"There's nothing in my hand," she said with a fake innocent smile, "Now what's in your hand?"

"What a coincidence, I also have nothing in my hand."

"Oh really?"

"Yes."

"Why's your hand dripping?"

"…condensation."

"Condensation?"

"Warm hands and cold environment mean condensation."

"That's not how that works. Condensation is water forming on cold surface after being heated."

"Well, it must be, because your hand is also dripping. So, the reason why my hand is…must be the same as yours."

…

"I suppose so," Emmy said with a strained smile, "Anyway, we should be heading off to meet Professor Sycamore."

"I agree."

…

"Which means walking away."

"Indeed, it does."

…

"Good. Then you go on ahead. I'll catch up."

"Ladies first."

"Oh no, you go first."

"I insist."

"So do I."

"Oh really? Are you sure?"

"Yes, I do."

…

"Why don't we both walk up together."

"Sounds good to me."

Emmy and Edgar maintained their standoff; both of them smiled falsely and held onto their respected snowy missiles tensely. Eventually, they began side stepped up the road, neither one daring to turn away or break eye contact. They continued to keep this up until the reach the steps that led up to the gate; the stairs were just too narrow for them to pass through together and so… in order to proceed…one of them had to break their Cold War.

"Professor Sycamore is waiting for us…it would be rude of us to be late," Emmy pointed out.

"Then go through first and I will follow."

"How about you go first and I will follow instead."

"What difference does it make?"

"It doesn't, so why don't you go first?"

….

They both sighed wearily and their hands were starting to ache and turn red from how cold they were getting; clearly this was going nowhere. A local village came up to them to get through the gate; he stopped for a few seconds to glance at them and frowned in bafflement as they seemed to do nothing, but stare at each other. Eventually, he shrugged his shoulders and walked past them and into Froenborg whilst mumbling something about odd tourists.

Edgar hummed, "We can be here for hours."

"Yeah, I know," Emmy sighed, "Should we call it quits?"

"We should. At the count of three, we'll both drop our snowballs."

"Right. 3…

"…2…"

"…1…"

Obviously, neither of them dropped their snowballs, causing them to both to groan in anger.

"You didn't drop it."

"Neither did you."

"Okay, seriously this time…3…"

"…2…"

"…1…"

Once again, neither of them dropped their projectiles.

"Damn it!" they both cried out, "Stop being so-"

SPLAT!

"Ah!"

They simultaneously shouted in shock as something cold and soft slammed into the sides of their heads, forcing them to drop the snowballs onto the ground. They both raised their hands to where they had been hit and found snow clinging to their cheeks and clothes.

"Now, now you two," Layton calmly said nearby as he pulled his gloves back on, "We have important business to attend to. We mustn't be late."

Edgar sighed in annoyance while Emmy smile sheepishly in response; they both turned around and walked grumpily through up the steps to Froenborg. Layton shook his head with a small smile before he turned back to the bemused groundskeeper he had been talking to.

"It's best to end their play fights before the competitiveness escalates," Layton told the villager, "Last time, they played a game where they can only say words of one syllable…it lasted an entire month."

Froenborg

The village was much prettier up close; from the jumbled, lopsided buildings that loomed over them, the old-fashioned streetlights, the cobblestoned roads that slithered their way between the houses gave it a quaint and charming appearance. The fact that there was even a large snowman wearing a woollen hat beside the gates add more to the Alpine village's rustic aesthetic. Since it was approaching noon, the locals were having a break from the work by gathering in nearby taverns to escape the chill while others were tending to the roadside stalls; some local children were even playing in the snow to pass the time before they had to return to school.

Layton, Edgar and Emmy walked down the bustling streets as they tried to find their way around and enjoying the foreign environment that they had entered.

"These higgledy-piggledy buildings are all so charming," Emmy said happily as she snapped a few photos with her camera, "It's like being inside a snow globe."

"Indeed, it surely is a picturesque Alpine village," Layton agreed.

Edgar, who was behind the two, noticed something falling towards him and stopped suddenly as a chunk of frozen snow fell past his head and onto the street, shattering into pieces. He looked up and saw that it had dropped from the eaves of a roof over his head and couldn't help but sweat drop at the thought of being accidently knocked out by it.

"Yes...how nice," he said out loud before he stepped away from the building and continued his walking. A few seconds later, he realised something, 'Oh wait, I almost forgot about write in the first mystery,' he thought before he reached into his coat and pulled out his notebook and pen and began to jot it down.

New Mystery - The 'Living Mummy': Renowned archaeologist Desmond Sycamore has written to us about a 'Living Mummy'. He was light on details, but hopefully he would explain once we meet up with him.

Once he was finished, he closed his notebook and put it away back into his pocket. However, when he looked up, he was surprised to see that both Layton and Emmy were vanished into the crowd. He stopped and searched the streets in search of them before spotting them climbing up one of the stairs that led to the up the mountain and the upper part of the village. He saw Emmy turn back around and wave at him to hurry up, causing him to roll his eyes.

"I only looked away for a second," he muttered as he made his way to the stairs.

"Hmm, forse se avessi usato una mazza? No, no, non essere ridicolo, Prima. Non sarebbe finita affatto bene..."

He stopped as he heard a voice through the crowd and turned to see a young girl about twelve years old standing on the side of the street. She had long dark red hair that hung down to her shoulders and were tied at the ends into two thick pigtails. She had tanned skin, small black eyes and a button nose and wore thick brown coat over a blue sweater and black trousers. She had her arms crossed over her chest and she stared at the down inquisitively, frowning in annoyance as if something was troubling her. Edgar's interest was pique at what she said; his Italian wasn't very good, but he did recognise the words 'una mazza' or 'a sledgehammer'. Obviously, he had to know what she was doing and approached her.

"Ciao...umm," he began, catching her attention, "...io sono...posso...sorry, do you speak English."

"Of course," the girl said before she gave him a curious look, "Who are you?"

"My name is Edgar, I come all the way from London."

Her face lit up as soon as he said that, "Londra! Fantasica!" she cried out, "I've heard that it is really sunny there. Is that true?"

"Sometimes," he admitted, "But mainly it rains or it's cloudy...or somewhere in between."

"Wow! More than one weather; that sounds amazing. All the weather does here is snow, snow and more snow. I just want it to be warm at least once," she sighed, "Anyway, I'm sorry I asked. We don't usually get visitors to Froenborg and I never seen you before. My name is Prima. Ciao!"

"Ciao. I couldn't help, but notice that you seemed...troubled by something."

Prima nodded sadly, "I'm supposed to be meeting a friend of mine in a few minutes, but I want to work out how to open the present she got me first."

"Is it locked. I can pick it open if you want," he offered her.

"Not...exactly," she said before she pointed to something behind her.

Edgar looked over her shoulder and raised an eyebrow in confusion. Sitting on the snowy ground behind her was a large cube of ice about two feet tall and wide. Frozen in the middle of the ice was a white present box tied up with a red ribbon and a golden bow on the top; it was completely embedded in the ice cube with no easy way of getting it out.

"What do you think?" Prima asked.

"I think you need better friends," Edgar replied.

Prima gave him a deadpanned look, "My friend explained in a card that I can use five 150 ml cups of hot water to melt 30 g of ice. Since the ice cube is 2 kg, how many cups of hot water would I need to boil. You see, I'm thinking that since 2000 divided by 30 is 666.6666666667 and 150 times by five is 750 then I would need just over 1500 ml of hot water in order to melt the ice which means-"

"Why can't you just put it next to a fire place or something?"

Prima blinked in astonishment, "I'm sorry?"

Edgar shrugged, "Just put it next to a fire place or put it somewhere warm. That way you don't need to boil so much water."

...

Prima fell onto her hands and knees comically and she shed some tears with a pained smile on her face.

"All day, I've been working on that and you ruined the fun. Spoilsport," she muttered as she trailed her finger in the snow.

Edgar rolled his eyes in amusement, "I mean you did ask."

Prima sighed miserably and got to her feet. However, before she could thank Edgar for his help, her eyes widened as she spotted something in the crowd over his shoulder.

"Oh, it's them again," she muttered.

Edgar frowned in confusion and turned around to see who she meant. It didn't take him long to figure out what she was referring to as the village local were giving the two men a wide berth and suspicious looks as they trudged by. One was a short portly man with short blondish brown hair, fair skin a thin mouth while the other was a tall, thin tanned skin man with a large pointed nose and dark brown hair. They both wore black military-like uniforms consisting of a black jacket and turtleneck sweater, a cap and small sunglasses that covered their eyes completely. The tall one calmly walked down the cobblestone road and sneered at any passer-by while the shorter man seemed to be bursting with anger, flailing his arms above his head and talking way too loudly.

"Argh rats! Why does everything here have to be frozen solid?" the shorter man complained loudly.

"We're in Froenborg. What did you expect?" the taller man muttered as he buried his hands deeper into his jacket pockets.

The shorter man growled and kicked a snow pile in frustration, "Yeah, but come on. A huge wall of ice? It's not natural, I tell you. I should have been able to chip it at least, but-"

"Well, if fire didn't have any effect on it. I'd hardly expect brute force to. Anyway, whatever happens, we're not leaving here until we've captured the target., so we'd better suck it up. Get you skates on, Bishop. Let's see if we can find another way in."

"I'm on it, Rook," the now named Bishop replied as the two uniformed men sped their way down the street.

Edgar gave the two a curious look as they walked by and continued to stare at them before they turned a corner, "Who are they?" he asked Prima.

"Don't know. They're not from around here."

"I thought you said that Froenborg didn't get many visitors."

"We don't," she said, "But ever since that professor came by, more and more of them have been showing up. We try to stay away from them as much as possible," she frowned thoughtfully, "It's strange. They look like soldiers, but they don't act like they are part of the military."

"Strange," Edgar hummed before he got his notebook out and jotted the mystery down.

New Mystery - Suspicious Men: A number of uniformed men are prowling around Froenborg who arrived around the same time as Professor Sycamore. The residents don't know who they are. They appear to be searching for something; I hope it doesn't have anything to do with the reason why we're here.

'This doesn't look good,' Edgar thought as he put his notebook away, 'I think we should stay away from them as much as possible,' he turned to Prima and offered her a small smile, "I'm sure it's nothing, but, if you see anything else, then make sure to tell me, okay?"

"Sure," Prima answered in slight confusion.

"Well, I must be off, arrivederci," he said before he turned around and headed towards the stairs that Layton and Emmy climbed up.

Prima merely waved him goodbye before she glanced back at where the uniformed men had left for one last time. She shrugged her shoulders, picked up her frozen present and headed towards the nearest fire place.

Outskirts Of Froenborg

After catching up with the two and getting directions from an elderly resident for where Sycamore could be, the trio ventured out behind Froenborg around the mountain and down a path into adjoining river valley. After walking along the river, they were forced to cross over a wooden bridge as the river path ended. The snow was much thicker here and the any sort of paved road had long been disappeared and replaced with rugged mountain wilderness; it was hard to believe that Sycamore would be out here of all places. As they walked, Edgar had told them about the uniformed men he spotted in town; something that intrigued the Professor very much.

"So, the villagers don't think they are military?" he questioned as he rubbed his chin.

"No," Edgar confirmed, "Even if they were, Froenborg is too, no offence, insignificant to be used for any sort of base of operations and too ordinary to be of interest to anybody. The only thing that might pique their interest is the same thing that piqued ours."

Emmy hummed and frowned slightly, "And just when I thought it was going to be a simple archaeological trip. This has complicated things."

"I'm sure we'll be fine as long as we be careful," Layton said as he glanced over his shoulder as they crossed the bridge, "I'm fairly sure we weren't followed out of Froenborg and, even then, I doubt that they know of our presence."

"I guess," Edgar said, casting a curious glance at a snowman wearing a top hat and orange scarf that they passed by, "I'm still trying to figure out what they had meant. What did they mean about an ice wall?" he pondered out loud.

"Ah that must be it," Emmy suddenly said as she pointed up ahead.

They followed her finger and saw that the path they were on ended at the mouth of a giant cave dug into the side of the mountain beside Froenborg. It's rocky exterior, which was covered in snow, kept the mouth hidden from anybody who weren't where they were currently standing including those who happen to fly by in the air. The walls were covered in a thin layer of frost and icicles hung threateningly from its roof. Edgar couldn't place his finger on it, but there was something off about the sight of the cave; it felt foreboding and sinister as if warning them that there was a reason for why it was hidden. Despite this, they approached the mouth of the cave.

"Harald said Professor Sycamore hadn't been seen since he went into the cave," Emmy said as she marvelled at it, "It looks quite dangerous. I hope he's alright."

They had just come under the lip of the cave when they were forced to stop as something was blocking their way. Edgar's eyes widened in surprise as he stared at his Layton's and Emmy's reflection in front of him as, from the ground of the cave to its roof, there was a giant wall of ice blocking the entrance. He reached out to touch it and immediately pulled back at how cold it was; even through his leather glove.

"This must be what they were talking about," he muttered as he took a few steps to admired the ice wall, "I now get what they were talking about."

"Interesting," Layton mused, "I can't see any cracks or weak spots. Is it really naturally forming?"

Emmy smirked and stood in front of it, "If we want to get in, then all we need to do is break through it," she got into a fighting stance, "Stand back, you two. I'll get us through it in no time," she told them.

She took a deep breath and focused on the spot of ice in front of her. Suddenly, as quick as a whip, she spun around and delivered a powerful roundhouse kick into the wall.

Thunk!

"Huh?" she uttered when her kick rebounded off the wall, making only a dull noise. She moved her foot away and saw that she barely made a crack in the ice in front of her, "I put all my weight into that and nothing happened," she turned around to look at them, "What sort of ice is th-"

She stopped mid-sentence when she saw the expressions on their faces; it was a mixture of amusement and pity that Emmy didn't like at all.

"What?"

Edgar closed his eyes and rubbed the back of his head, "Oh nothing, it's just that...sometimes you act like a jock. It's endearing really. Very adorable."

"S-shut up!" Emmy shouted in embarrassment, "I don't see you coming up with any ideas."

"None that involve me kicking it really, really hard," he mocked, earning an annoyed look from her.

Layton stepped up to the ice wall and hummed curiously as he inspected it. He took off his glove, lifted his hand up to it before using his index finger to scratch at it before pulling away; he looked down at his open palm and hummed again when he saw that there was no residue of ice in it nor where there any scratches in the wall face.

"I see," he finally said as he put his glove back on, "Quite ingenious, really."

Edgar raised a curious eyebrow at him, "How do you mean, prof?"

He turned to them and gave the two a serene smile, "I have reason to believe that this wall is not made of ice at all. If we assume that this is naturally forming then no matter how solid the ice is, it should be easy to melt or at least scratch with our fingernails. If I were to hazard a guess, I'd say it was a panel made of incredibly durable tempered glass," he glanced back at it, "the harsh conditions of the mountains must have made it cold to the touch; no wonder people couldn't tell the difference."

Emmy rubbed her chin thoughtfully, "That must be the reason why I can't break through it."

"Yes, that's the only reason why," Edgar muttered sarcastically, "If that's the case, then there must be a way of opening it."

"There is," Layton confirmed, "Can you remember passing by something unusual, Edgar? Something that seems out of place."

Edgar looked back down the mountain path before his eyes landed on the snowman they had walked by; his eyebrows rose up in surprise when he realised when the snowman's right stick arm was pointing upwards while the other was facing down.

"Oh, I see," he said as he jogged over to it, leaping over a dead log on the way and coming to a stop before the snowman.

He reached for the right arm and shook it a little; feeling no resistance, he instantly moved onto the left arm and shook it as well. This time he felt the arm being held back on the other end within the snowman's torso and smiled triumphantly. He gripped the stick arm and lifted it up until it made a metallic 'thunk' noise; then suddenly the coal eyes and nose of the snowman lit up red and a mechanical rumbling could be heard from beneath their feet. After a few seconds, the ice wall made groaning noise before it split up in a jagged horizontally line from wall to wall. The upper part of the ice wall slid up into the roof of the cave while the lower part slowly sunk into the ground until they eventually stopped to reveal the rest of the cave behind it.

"Frosty the snow key," Edgar muttered humorously as he made his way back over to them, "You don't suppose that this is Sycamore's work, do you?"

"If it is, then it's clear that he doesn't want anybody else finding this cave," Emmy said, "Makes me wonder what he has found that's so important."

"Let's find out, shall we," Layton said as he stepped into the cave, "I'm eager to learn what he has found."

Inside The Cave

Edgar felt a chill roll down his spine as he entered the cave and immediately became aware of how silent it was; the only sounds that echoed gently through the rocky walls were the drops of water that fell from the stalagmites and the clacking of their shoes on solid floors. It was cold, but it was a different sort of cold from the outside; it was a sharper, more ancient type of cold; the same you would probably find in an abandoned house or a long-forgotten tomb.

The three walked deeper and deeper into the cave; the air becoming damper and the ground becoming rougher as they continued to trek past the subterranean pools of water and some flowers that preferred this sort of environment; they finally stopped when they saw a blue light shimmering around a corner up ahead, illuminating the dark cave with its gentle shine. The light had also allowed them to see a simple campsite; with a single person tent, a mat rolled upon the hard floor and a set of equipment used for archaeology neatly set out on top of it. The owner of the campsite stood not too far away; a tall figure who seemed to be enjoying the brilliant blue light; bathing in its rays as if they enthralled by it.

As soon as they got close, the man turned towards them to reveal his face. He looked to be in his early forties with bushy chin length brown hair, lightly tanned skin and brown eyes. He wore a brown suit with a red tie, the sort of thing that was better suited for an office rather than a cave in a mountain region, and a pair of red rectangular-framed glasses. The man seemed surprised at first to see them, even a little fearful, but he soon calmed down once he recognised them.

"Professor Layton," the man said as he approached them, "It's quite an honour."

"The honour is all mind, Professor Sycamore," Layton greeted back with a doff of his hat.

Sycamore put out his hand for Layton to shake, "I have been looking forward to this," he said as the two professors shook hands, "A chance to meet the famous, Professor Layton."

"So, are we famous as well or do we need a doctorate first," Edgar said as he stepped up beside Layton.

Sycamore chuckled and reached out his hand for him to shake as well, "No need, I know you two very well," he told them as Edgar and then Emmy shook his hand, "Emmy Altava; researcher, photographer and head assistant to Professor Layton and Edgar Cipher; the Professor's apprentice and renowned locksmith. I saw that article of you tackling the V.A.U.L.T 5000; quite a feat."

"If you don't mind, Professor Sycamore, try not to compliment him. He already has a big enough head as it is," Emmy quipped.

"And if you don't mind, professor, 'head assistant' is another way of saying, 'nagging Layton to let her work for him until he finally gave up'," Edgar replied, earning a sharp look from Emmy.

Layton gave Sycamore a tired smile, "Forgive their attitudes. They actually work really well together."

Sycamore chuckled once again, "Don't worry. It's nice to have a sense of humour when working with others."

Edgar frowned slightly as he observed the professor before him, 'Huh, he kind of sounds familiar. Have I met him before?'

"So, professor," Emmy said seriously, snapping Edgar out of his thoughts, "you said you found a 'living mummy'? What did you mean by that?"

Sycamore gravelly nodded, "Follow me, I'll show you," he told them as he turned and walked around the corner.

After some hesitation, they followed after him and stepped into the blue light; it dazzled them and they needed a few seconds for their eyes to adjust. As soon as they saw where the light was coming, they gasped in absolute shock.

Before them, from the ground to the roof of the cave and from one side to the other, was a wall of blue, clear ice. This was far different from the one before, it shone fantastically and memorialising; there wasn't a single crack or scratch upon its surface and proudly stood like an impregnatable fortress. However, what was, by far, more astounding was the fact that there was a person suspended in the ice a few meters above the floor. She was a person probably in her mid to late teens with long wavy dark blond hair that was tied up in a half-bun on the back of head; she had pale skin and soft facial features. She wore an elegant long pink dress and a magenta shawl wrapped around her shoulders and wore a small pendent on her forehead. Her eyes were closed, giving the appearance that she was sleeping peacefully and waiting to be woken up.

The three were enraptured and astonished to see her, having never seen anything like it before. Eventually, Layton was the one who broke the silence.

"My word," he uttered in disbelief, his small beady eyes fixated on her.

"Amazing," Emmy gasped, to spellbound to snap a single photo, "That's the mummy?"

Edgar, however, remained speechless as he looked up at her; his mouth slightly agape as he took another step closer.

"Indeed, that was my reaction as well," Sycamore told them, gaining Layton's and Emmy's attention, "I would estimate that this ice is a million years old...possibly more. This girl must have been trapped here all this time."

"A million years," Emmy repeated, "are you saying that she predates the appearances of homosapiens by 700,000 years."

Layton nodded, "Were tests to confirm this, we would have concrete proof of the most ancient civilisation ever known."

"Precisely," Sycamore agreed, "It would be an archaeological revolution."

Edgar was a foot away from the ice wall now; he could feel the coolness radiate off it. Without looking back, he finally spoke, "You said she was living," he said, catching the others attention, "Are you telling us that she's alive in there?"

"Yes," Sycamore confirmed, "It seems impossible, but that girl is alive. The heat from her body creates a temperature gradient within the ice. It's not much, but it's a clear sign of life. I cannot say what kind of scientific or biological phenomena are at work here," he admitted as he rubbed his chin thoughtfully," but she appears to be in a suspended animation. Some sort of cryogenic sleep."

Edgar stared up at the girl in fascination, "She's alive," he muttered sadly, "She's been alive for all this time; not knowing the world around her has changed."

Emmy walked up to his side and inspected the ice as well, "This is crazy," she admitted before she smiled and elbowed his shoulder, "You don't suppose this is how they've been using a similar method for keeping Barry Manilow alive for all this time, huh?" she joked. However, she frowned when he didn't laugh, but continued to stare sorrowfully up at the girl. She hummed in concern, "I'm sure she's safe in there, Edgar. You heard what Sycamore said, she's in a cryogenic sleep."

"I know," he muttered, "I just can't help it. She's been asleep for all this time, everything she knew about the world has changed. She has no home, no family, nothing. They've been gone thousands of years before we were even born," he sighed wearily and closed his eyes, "She must be the loneliest person in the world," he murmured, 'I can't help but feel emphatic; the only difference between me and her is that's centuries old,' he thought.

The assistant frowned sadly at his reaction, but before she could say anything else Sycamore spoke up.

"I didn't bring you all the way here to just show off my discovery," he told them with a serious look, "I also require your assistance; we should melt the ice!"

"Melt the ice?" Layton hummed.

"How on earth are we going to do that?" Emmy asked.

"That is a good question," Sycamore said, rubbing his chin thoughtfully, "I have been conducting several experiments on the ice for a while now and I have been utterly unsuccessful. If we melt it too fast or too slow, we might harm her and I am against using pickaxes against something so delicate."

Edgar turned around, "Wait, this isn't going to hurt her, right?" he demanded, "I'm not putting her life at risk for a measly investigation."

"I do not wish her harm as well, but we're on the brink of discovering something astounding, Mr Cipher. Don't you think she's slept enough?"

Edgar looked back up at the girl and frowned in concern, "I…guess," he sighed as he placed his hand onto the cold ice wall, "But I don't want to risk her life in the process."

As soon as he rested his hand upon the ice, he felt a weird energy seep into him; it flowed up his arm, past his shoulder and into his head, making his mind go blank out for a split second and his body become stiff. In that short space of time, two words entered his brain.

The words were whispered by a thousand ancient voices, but he could hear it clearly; it was both firm and softly spoken; he understood what they meant, but know it was not from a language he recognised. The words filled his brain, his mind, his very consciousness to the point that he forgot everything he has even know entirely; it was as if nothing else mattered until he placed his hand on that ice. And those two words were:

'Protect Her'

The next thing he knew he heard the sound of ice cracking in front of him. He pulled his hand away and saw, to his and the other's astonishment, a long thin crack in the wall; just where his hand been placed. The crack elongated up and down; separate cracks began to branch of it, forming crosses across the entire ice wall until rectangular blocks began to emerge.

Edgar staggered back in shock as the ice wall began to glow brighter than before; the temperature seemed to drop to sub-zero levels as cold mist spurted out of the cracks and rolled across the hard ground. Sycamore and Layton ran up beside him, their eyes wide in astonishment.

"What did you do?" Sycamore gasped.

"I-I don't know," Edgar uttered, "I just touched it and it broke apart."

"It's not breaking apart…it's opening," Layton said, his jaw clenched tightly in anticipation.

He was right. The cracks started to go straight inside the ice wall, forming cuboid bricks of ice. Suddenly, before their eyes, the bricks began to shift out of the wall and move around as if by magic; peeling away until to the side before dropping to the ground and smashing into pieces. As the bricks moved away, it revealed the largest block which held the sleeping girl. It stood only for a few seconds before it broke apart into specks of ice and snow, releasing her from her frozen prison.

The girl fell to the ground as soon as she was free; Edgar swiftly ran up and caught her before she could land and risk injuring herself. He held her tightly in his arms and looked down at her gentle, sleeping face. She was much lighter than he was expecting; definitely lighter than a human should be and she was strangely warm to the touch for somebody who's been trapped in ice. Looking at her now, he was enraptured by how beautiful she was; she seemed to glow angelically in the blue hue of what remained of the ice wall. He was snapped out of his thoughts when Sycamore spoke to him.

"Quickly, put her down here!" he called out, rolling out a mat on a flat part of the ground

Edgar turned around and fast walked over to him and gently placed her on the mat; he took off his hat, balled it up and placed under her head to use as a pillow. As Layton and Emmy came up to them and Edgar placed his coat over her, Sycamore knelt by her and lifted her hand and pressed two fingers against her wrists.

"Strange, she's warm, but I can't feel a pulse," he muttered, immediately panicking Edgar, "I've been trying to open the wall for months…and you managed in a few minutes," he said with a slightly annoyed frown.

"Never mind that now," Edgar spat as he tucked his coat underneath her to keep her warm, "We need to administer CPR and-"

"Wait, stop! She's waking up," Emmy said, pointing to her face.

They looked and saw colour appear on her, once pale, face as blood began to circulate around her body again. Her face twitched and then her eyelids slowly and wearily open to reveal a pair of misty grey eyes. She gazed lazily at her surroundings; lifting her hand out from under his coat and flexing her fingers before her face. She put her hand down and noticed the strangers looking down at her; she frowned in concern and fear, seemingly not comprehending what was going on.

"This is remarkable," Sycamore whispered in fascination, "trapped in ice all this time…and here she is before us."

Layton nodded, "This is impossible and yet…"

Edgar leaned down slightly, making the girl turned her fearful eyes to him, "Hey, it's alright. You're safe here," he quietly told her; he doubted that she would understand him in English, but he hoped he could convey his reassurance through his tone, "We're not going to hurt you. We're only trying to help you. Umm…welcome to the future."

His comforting words seemed to have done the trick as her face relaxed and the fearful look in her eyes slowly disappeared. Her eyelids began to droop and soon she had drifted off to sleep. Edgar smiled softly as he saw her calm down; Emmy glanced at him from the side of her eyes and frowned slightly but then fixed her attention to the girl.

"We must get her to some place warm," Layton said, "We need to get her back to Froenborg."

"I agree, I'll call Raymond as soon as we get into town," Sycamore agreed.

Edgar nodded and scooped her up in her arms again. They turned towards the exit to leave the damp cave when suddenly-

Click!

They stopped as they saw three soldiers, in similar uniforms as the ones he saw in Froenborg, stand in their way with tommy guns pointed at them; their eyes were hidden between darkened sunglasses and they all had sinister smirks on their faces. They were surprised by their sudden appearance, but it was the figure, who came of the shadows, that really sent chills down their spines.

"Thank you," the mysterious man said in a dark suave voice, "we'll take it from here."

He looked to be in his late fifties with bushy light brown hair and a spiky beard; he had fair skin, a pointed nose and eyes hidden behind blue tinted sunglasses. He wore a blue jacket over a red turtle neck sweater and tanned-colours trousers. He had a menacing quality in his character; he stood and spoke confidently as if he owned the room and everyone within it; he seemed like a man who wouldn't hesitate to strike down anyone who opposed him and it was clear that he had the power to carry it out. Edgar instantly sneered as he saw him and backed away to protect the girl in his arms. Layton and Emmy also reacted and stood before Edgar and the girl in defence.

"Who on earth are you?" Layton demanded with a glare.

"They must be here for the girl," Emmy commented, eyeing each gun trained on them.

Sycamore glowered and stepped towards them, "How?" he demanded, stopping short as a gun turned to him, "Who told you where to find us?"

The man, however, smiled eerily, "Hand her over…or face the consequences."

"Shut it, René Balloq!" Edgar snarled, "Like hell we're going to do that!"

However, he was caught by surprise when the girl's eyelids snapped open and stared up at the ceiling. Edgar looked down at her and saw something different in her eyes; some of the colour had been drained from them and there were glazed over as if there was no sign of life. Before he could do anything, she rolled out of his arms and onto her feet, allowing his coat to fall to the ground.

"H-hey!" he cried out as the girl pushed passed Layton and Emmy and walked towards the bearded man.

"Ha! This girl knows what's good for her," the mysterious man chuckled before he turned away and snapped his fingers, "Back to the ship; we haven't got a moment to lose."

He began to head to the exit with the soldiers marching after him; they surrounded the girl on both sides and behind just in case she tried to escape as they led her away.

As soon as they turned the corner, Sycamore snarled and turned to them, "We must go after them. There's no telling what they might do."

"Way ahead of you," Edgar muttered as he put on his coat and hat on, "let's go."

"Hold on," Layton said, "we can't be too hasty. We are still very outgunned by them."

Emmy smirked and held up her fist, "I reckon I can take them on."

Suddenly, without warning, they felt the ground beneath them began to tremble; the stalagmites began to shake and the pools of water rippled fiercely. They heard the sound of giant propellers spinning rapidly from outside the cave and immediately ran outside to discover what was causing it.

Flying over the mountains was a monster of an airship; it had a round lime green body and a brown rectangular undercarriage, the back of which had an aircraft carrier that can be accessed by a shutter. There was an oval bulge on the top of the round body where the bridge is kept and five propellers that kept it aloft; two on either side of it, one under the other, and one large one on the back. On the lower part of the body, on either side, were two gun turrets that size of howitzers aimed down at the ground; it was further protected by brown helicopters that flew around the behemoth like flies swarms swarming rotting meat. The great airship, which must have been at least ten times the size at the Bostonius lugged itself across the sky until it was out of sight over the mountain tops.

Edgar raised an eyebrow and looked over at Emmy, "Still reckon you can take them on?" he asked rhetorically.

Bostonius

Raymond hummed to himself as he sat on the sofa whilst holding a plate with a BLT sandwich, he made for himself. He smiled wistfully as he tucked a napkin into his collar, picked the sandwich up and was about to take a bite out of it; when suddenly-

DAKA-DAKA-DAKA-DAKA-DAKA-DAKA-DAKA-DAKA-DAKA-DAKA-DAKA-DAKA-DAKA-DAKA-DAKA-DAKA!

He jumped in surprise when something ginormous boomed overhead; sounding like one enormous helicopter. He looked out of the window and saw a green and brown airship fly over Froenborg, over the Bostonius and the out over the Alps in the distance. Raymond's eyebrows raised in astonishment at the sight; he briefly wondered if he should do something in response…but he did just make his lunch and so the butler shrugged it off and opened his mouth to take a bite of his sandwich,

"Raymond!" he stopped when he heard his master's voice cry out from outside, "Raymond! Start the Bostonius! We need to go after that airship!"

The butler looked down at his sandwich, sighed in disappointment and placed it on the coffee table; he ran to the control panels and started the engine just as Sycamore, Edgar, Emmy and lastly Layton ran onboard and towards the front of the airship. Sycamore leapt onto the pilot's seat and pressed various buttons and switches on the panel.

"They won't get away. Not if I have anything to do with it," he grumbled as the engines roared to life and the propellers began to turn rapidly.

"You really think this hot air balloon is going to catch up to that?" Edgar muttered as the Bostonius began to take off, "We might as well walk after them."

Sycamore, without looking around, reached over to a side panel and pulled a lever up, "This is more than some mere hot air balloon, Mr Cipher."

From the outside, a panel on either side of the airship's body opened up and two orange wings sprouted out of the sides; at the back another section opened up to reveal a large propeller which unfurled itself and began to spin rapidly. Everybody, expect for Sycamore and Raymond who held onto the railing, were almost thrown off their feet as the Bostonius dropped suddenly, but it then regained its balanced just as fast. Edgar wondered what had happened and looked outside the front window in time to see the balloon that was holding it afloat had been detached and drifted downwards towards the ground. The Bostonius had now become a plane with a dorsal fin right on top of the main body; they had become much smaller, but much faster. The newly adapted plane now sped through the air at great speeds and was now catching up to the hulking airship up ahead.

Edgar blinked in mild surprise before looking back at Layton, "You're an archaeologist; why don't you have your own jet?"

"I believe you're mistaking this as something normal in the archaeology field," he replied with a sweat drop.

"Makes you think why they bother with the balloon if this is much faster," Emmy hummed.

The Bostonius zipped over the snow-covered mountain range, darting left and right to avoid the rocky outcrops as quick as a whip. Dark clouds were forming overhead and the blizzard snow pelted the front window. With speed and agility on their side, they were getting closer and closer to the airship by the second. A beeping sound was heard and the passengers turned to the panel to see a red flashing light beside an intercom.

"Professor, we've got an incoming message!" Emmy announced as Sycamore reached over and pressed the receiver.

"Well, well...I didn't think you'd have this much fight in you," the voice of the mysterious drawled out from the speaker.

"You bastard!" Edgar shouted into the microphone, "If you so much as lay a finger on her, I'll stuff you in one of your stupid airship's exhaust pipes."

"What do you want with her?" Layton demanded as well.

"Let's just say she had a role to play in our plan," the man sneered, "We will not let her go!"

The intercom switched off; severing the communication between them. Edgar snarled down at the intercom, but then he noticed three things up ahead, bursting through the storm clouds. They were about one meter tall, cylindrical shaped objects with propellers on the top of them and two headlights on the front of the body. However, his eyes widened in worry as he spotted a small gun turret hanging from underneath it.

"Look out!" he cried out as three of the flying robots zoomed towards them and unleashed a volley of bullets at them.

Just in time, Sycamore pulled up and narrowly avoided the bullets that rained down at them as the robots flew by. With the gale working against him, he was forced to nosedive towards the snow banks below before pulling up against to avoid crashing into the ground. The robots followed them, one of them accidently hitting the snow bank they were, themselves, about to hit, got knocked over and crashed into the side of a mountain. The other two flew ahead of them in order to fire at them again.

"Unmanned drones," Sycamore spat in anger, as he zigzagged the Bostonius through the mountains, "We've got no choice. Shoot them down!"

"Shoot them down?" Emmy asked as Raymond pointed to the far panel at a joystick which, she assumed, controlled the guns that Bostonius apparently had, "You have guns, but no seatbelts?"

"I ain't complaining," Edgar said, appearing suddenly at the joystick with an excited smile on his face. Bizarrely enough, he was now wearing an aviator cap and goggles as if he was dogfighter, "Eat your heart out, Biggles. It's my turn to fly again."

"Where did you get the cap from?" Emmy asked.

"Sycamore's collection. I was looking through it on the way to Froenborg."

"You went through my collection!?"

"Eyes at the front Professor," Layton reminded.

The drones zoomed towards them once again; Edgar moved the joystick into position and waited until they were close enough before he opened fire.