Phoenix merrily skipped down the hallway of the office, the faint sound of his steps echoing against the walls. In one hand, he carried a box of donuts, the tantalizing aroma of sugar and glaze wafting through the air.

His other arm cradled his files, neatly arranged and secure under the press of his elbow. The hallway was bathed in soft light as he walked, his leather shoes clacking on the tiled floor. Wonder if Edgeworth is in his office. Maybe I can offer donuts as a peace truce?...