Here it is- the long-awaited epilogue to The Prosecuting Convention! I cannot thank you readers and reviewers enough for your support. I hope you enjoy the final installment of this story, and have a Happy New Year!

13 years later

Franziska Von Karma, age 26, perfect prosecutor and investigator, was always a very busy woman. Wherever crime went, she followed it and pursued her target until they were caught. That was why she was back in America. Franziska noticed the stares of nearly everyone in the Prosecutor's Office and smiled. It was good to be remembered, but it was even better to be feared. She tightened her grip on her prized whip and knocked on the door to the Chief Prosecutor's Office.

"Come in," the voice came from inside.

Franziska opened the door and was greeted with an overwhelming amount of pink. Some things never change, she thought.

"Oh, Franziska. Thank you for coming here." Before her stood her little brother, Miles Edgeworth.

Franziska curtsied. "Of course. I will go wherever I am needed, and where there are criminals to be caught." She smirked. "I've heard there have been quite a few problems here recently." Franziska paused. "Aside from your vision," she said, gesturing to Edgeworth's new glasses.

"There's more than a few problems here," Edgeworth said, ignoring the jibe. "Crime had been absolutely crazy. It didn't just end with the arrest of this defense attorney-"

"First Phoenix Wright is disbarred, and now this?" Franziska questioned.

Edgeworth sighed. "Actually, Wright was proven innocent of the evidence forging."

Franziska raised her eyebrows. "Oh, really?" She said curiously.

Edgeworth nodded. "Yes, by some rookie defense attorney named Apollo Justice. But that's beside the point. In reality it was Mr. Justice's mentor, Kristoph Gavin, that-"

"Did you say, 'Kristoph Gavin'?" Franziska interrupted.

Edgeworth blinked. "Yes..." He said slowly. "But I was going to say-"

"I will take whichever case you would like me to. Leave the files in my office," Franziska said, turning the door handle. "I have something I have to attend to first." And with that, Franziska left, leaving Edgeworth dumbstruck in his office.

He stood there for several moments, trying to figure out what had come over Franziska, until her remembered.

That prosecuting convention-

Their prank-

No cravats-

Pepsi Max-

"Wait! Franziska!" Edgeworth ran after her, desperate to stop her surefire attempt to taunt the man who had humiliated her all those years ago.

Franziska was now at the detention center, but faced one problem. She had no idea where Kristoph Gavin's cell was. She sighed. She really hated asking for directions, but it had definitely been awhile since she was last here.

"You," she snapped at the nearest inmate. "Where is Kristoph Gavin's cell?"

He turned around, and Franziska recognized him instantly.

"Well, if it isn't the little filly," Godot said.

"Well, if it isn't the foolish coffee-drinking fool," Franziska replied. "How's jail?" She asked flatly.

Godot turned his head and seemed to look dramatically into the distance. "With each days that passes, I have to reminisce the past, drink the bitter brew that-"

"Goodbye," Franziska turned on her heel and left, shaking her head. That fool was still as annoying as he was when that left met at that godforsaken temple.

She walked over to the next cell, ignoring Godot, who was continuing his speech. "You," she snapped at the inmate, who was standing still, his back to her. "Tell me, in which cell is Kristoph Gavin residing in?"

The inmate was silent and still for a moment. Then, he seemed to tense. Franziska waited cautiously. Out of nowhere, he spun around to face her, assuming an offensive stance, and in that split second, Franziska caught the glint of a blade. Just as quick, she drew her own weapon. "Why do they allow you knives?!" She asked.

The inmate smirked. "Full of questions, aren't we?"

"Prosecutors usually are," Franziska responded. The inmate lowered his weapon.

"Why do they allow you a whip?" He retorted, nodding at Franziska's own weapon.

Franziska crossed her arms. "Touché."

"So, you wish to know where Gavin-dono is residing, do you?" The man asked.

"Yes!" She snapped. Hadn't she already gone over this?

"I suppose I could help you..."

Well, it's about time.

"...if you solve a riddle."

Franziska shot him a look of disbelief that was so funny, it almost made him laugh.

"Excuse me?"

"I've heard you are more than capable of it, Karma-dono," he said with a smirk. So he had heard of her? Good. "What number-?"

"That's nice," Franziska said, pulling her whip in irritation. "But I don't have time for riddles from the Twisted Samurai, Simon Blackquill." And with that, Franziska turned around and grabbed the collar of the poor person who happened to be walking by.

"Aah! Don't hurt me!" He squealed, waving his baton dangerously close to her eyes. Franziska was so furious at this point, she easily lifted the unlucky person into the air with one hand.

"You!" She barked. "What's your name?!"

"Prosecutor Sebastian Debeste!" The man said. "Please don't hurt me! I'm the best!" He begged.

You've got a long way to go, you pitiful fool.

"Listen well, Sebastian Debeste," she said in a low voice. "I have had it with the foolish amount of foolery of these foolishly foolish fools. Answer this simple question, preferably affirmatively, and I will release you. Do we have an understanding?"

Debeste nodded rapidly. "Yes, ma'am! I'm Debeste, so I'm the best!"

I've seen schoolchildren more fit to be prosecutors than you.

"Do you know where Kristoph Gavin's cell is?"

"Over there!" Debeste pointed. "Number 13!"

Franziska dropped him to the ground and walked away without another word.

There seemed to be an unusual amount of commotion among the prison today, Kristoph thought. Of course, probably none of it involved him in any way, so he ignored it. He had caught the now-familiar voices of some of the inmates, such as that Godot fellow and Simon Blackquill. They must have been having a jibe at the new warden, or something. Kristoph grinned to himself. A new face would be perfect. The wardens never realized that he had been stealing their phones, anyways. It was only that foul-tempered, so-called 'scientific' woman detective that had a sharp enough eye to catch him in the act. She was highly annoying, but then again, Kristoph could easily imagine how wearing it would be to have to work for his idiot brother, Klavier. The thought made him grimace. He couldn't have been what caused the uproar, could he? Kristoph could have sworn that it wasn't Tuesday (visiting day for Klavier), but it would be just his luck if Klavier decided to pop by on Thursdays, as well. No doubt the other prisoners would loathe that, a number of them had already formed the 'We hate Klavier Gavin' club (of which Kristoph and Daryan were in charge of).

"I always knew you'd end up in jail, Kristoph Gavin."

Kristoph was stunned for a moment. The voice was brand-new, but he had the strangest feeling that somewhere, somehow, he had heard it before. He turned around and came face-to-face with a woman, a prosecutor, he could tell, whose arrogant smirk was already starting to get on his nerves.

"Do I know you?" Kristoph asked.

The woman frowned.

"You're still ever the foolishly foolish fool, I see," she said. The sense of familiarity was growing, but much to his frustration, he still couldn't put his finger on her name. "I didn't think you'd forget me so quickly. I am Franziska Von Karma."

Now Kristoph remembered- that bratty child who had embarrassed him and his brother at that stupid prosecuting convention. It shouldn't have surprised him that that horrible little hellspawn girl had grown up to be a terrifying demon woman.

"What do you want, Franziska Von Karma?" He asked.

"What I would like the most," she said. "Is to whip you until all of the foolish foolery of your foolish self is gone, but these bars prevent me from such an act."

"How unfortunate for you," Kristoph sneered. To his dismay, Franziska smiled.

"Luckily, it works in reverse as well. I heard you're in here for homicide, correct? Well, I suppose that these bars here are fine, so long as they prevent you from trying to murder me."

The temptation is definitely rising, Kristoph thought.

"That must make it awfully difficult for you to carry out your revenge, then," Kristoph said.

"Not at all," Franziska said confidently. "I just wanted to return a little present you gave me 13 years ago."

From behind her back, Franziska revealed what she had carefully been saving for this very moment- a small glass of lemonade.

Kristoph's eyes widened, knowing what she was going to the split second before she did. Franziska tossed the contents of the glass at him. Kristoph swore loudly, and Franziska laughed.

"I swear, when I get out of here, you better watch what you eat, Franziska Von Karma," Kristoph growled.

"Absolutely," Franziska agreed. "I hope that lemonade was flavored well, after all, revenge is sweet."

And with that, Franziska Von Karma turned on her heel and left, cackling and swinging her whip happily as she went.

"Fool."