Written June 23rd, 2012 - Revised September 3rd, 2014

A face come from his past, or rather from what he couldn't throw away of it.

He would gladly focus on the usual easy case, facing the usual rookie lawyer. But it is an entirely different matter when faith and words have the same pace – as the case becomes harder, the attorney's face grows familiar first, then unforgettable.

A face full of things that words cannot tell, not here and not now; the signs they left on him are unmistakable. He goes through them all, in the way he reads the tongues of liars.

There is a message in those young cheeks, a burning desire to let him know – and what they display, in the mysterious dances of fate, is much more than a handful of simple expressions. The smile is not just a sneer of satisfaction; the weird angle of his frown, painted on his brow like a constant shadow, tells about a much longer pain than that of a fleeting second.

A prosecutor reads it all coldly. He does, but in utter disbelief; and he can already feel the touch of fear, crawling beneath his own mask of arrogance.

He knows his face is telling the truth. No matter how much he refuses to accept him in his life – he will get to him sometime, because he chose so.

And he knows, in a heartbeat, that he has already won the war. There he is, on the other side of the courtroom. He demands victory, peace, answers in the first place.

Miles Edgeworth shudders. He cannot believe what he is going through.


Eyes that look confusing, especially in this triumph of lamplight. Opposite currents mingle in them – he reads their shades in fascination and guilt, as the weight of an entire world lies heavily on their four shoulders.

Eyes that have gone through sufferings and fights, not of the courtroom kind, and held back enough tears to make their blue piercing and dry as can be. Blazes of disbelief and mixed feelings have split his irises all day long, with a truth that was too much to bear, even for him.

Eyes that are turning to him among dozens of guests – eyes reborn after his words, and shining with the hope that their message, the message of sixteen years, will finally get to its origin and destination.

His eyes are tearing all lies apart, in their struggle to find the answers that both of them will be looking for. So he promises. But the words of his young sister choose that moment to ring a bell in his memory; and a small part of him dies, melting under his glance.

If only the perfection he used to aim to could reach his feelings as well.

Miles Edgeworth grinds his teeth and swallows the jumble of words that fidgets in him. He sees, suddenly, how foolish he was.

A mouth that will never find the words for moments like these, especially now, after experiencing the borders between life and death.

The very same lips which have voiced the most important of syllables to him, and enclosed his entire life in their sentences – their meanings have been carved in his memories with the force of fire, as painful as they were warm.

He has heard much from them; words of despair and joy, of irony or genuine sorrow, always coming from the truest depths of his being.

Lips that have spoken to many people – lips now left speechless, graced by their well-deserved rest.

In a joy achieved after the toughest challenges, silence alone is refreshing. And they are standing in front of one another, enjoying the wordless sympathy that each grants to the other every time. For such things, by now, there is no need to ask.

So, Miles Edgeworth watches those lips bend in a smile – he smiles for the sake of their relief, for the whole universe of truths that binds the two of them so close.

He understands, and shuts his ears to the laughter of anyone else. He can barely believe how lucky he is.

I never get tired of portraying the beautiful relationship these two characters share. Yesterday, I realised I had never tried something before - exploring it through two things we never access in our playthrough, except for short moments: Miles' point of view, and Phoenix's facial expressions (which, obviously, cannot be seen).