It was as if the world was at a stand-still. All of the police officers stayed put in their positions, gaping at the prosecutor's desperation and fury, caught in and entranced by the moment. It felt like some sort of sick horror movie, the defence attorney thought, as he watched the prosecutor stumble helplessly through their ghost-like portrayal, the shock and disarray registering on his face like a horrible disease, taking over him and consuming him whole. Even from all the way across the other side of the Hall, it was clear to see how disgruntled Edgeworth had become by the experience, and his faint, shaky whisper as he struggled to pick himself up off of the floor only served as proof of his emotions;
"Fake.." Edgeworth stood up shakily, waving his arm through the image of the kidnapper and defence attorney.
"A hologram?" The police officers surrounding him began to murmur amongst themselves. Phoenix clamped his bound hands over his mouth and fell onto his knees as he watched the prosecutor from a distance, still being clutched defensively by the kidnapper, tears streaming down his cheeks. He wanted to be there, next to Edgeworth, to tell him it was all going to be okay, to tell him where he was being hidden..

He wanted a happily ever after but it was never going to happen, was it?

"Oh, shut up." The man hissed at the defence attorney in an aggressive manner, pushing him further down behind the box;
"You'll give us away."
"Where are you... WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU." The prosecutor spun on his heel once again as he scanned the gigantic Hall, stopping to squint at the hologram. The space in which the image had been projected was now completely empty; in other words, the facade was over.
"You've moved out of the catchment area of the projector, so the game is up." Edgeworth tried his best to calm himself down by attempting to revert the tone of his voice, but couldn't help but feel the overwhelming disappointment and upset stirring in his stomach and pushing down on his shoulders like some sort of heavy-weight.
"Show yourselves." He whispered, his voice wavering.

"Oh go on, then. Since you've asked so nicely, perhaps we should play a little game of hide and seek?" Edgeworth's eyes widened as the sly kidnapper's voice echoed all around them, using the, rather simple, sound-system of the Hall.
"What?" Ema glanced up from Clementine - who was unconscious by this point.
"You all have 2 minutes to find us and, if you haven't found us by the time that that is up, we're leaving again." A click sounded through the speakers as the microphone on the other end was adjusted;
"No, what are you do-"
"E-Edgeworth! W-We're-AAH!" A large slap echoed through the speakers before they fell silent again.
"PHOENIX!" The prosecutor pushed past the clusters of police officers, in a frenzy.
"YOU, YOU, AND YOU! SPLIT UP AND SEARCH OVER THERE. WE HAVE 2 MINUTES, YOU HEAR ME? 2 MINUTES." Edgeworth shouted, gesturing to the whole police force. They all mumbled in agreement and began to cover the whole area;
"AND DON'T FORGET OUTSIDE!" The prosecutor rose his voice above the rest of them as he glared at the stairs leading, presumably, to a floor above them.

2 minutes.

2 minutes was all they had. Edgeworth gritted his teeth. They had to be somewhere with a clock to be able to check the time, assuming he was playing the game fairly, and they had to be at some sort of vantage point to be able to witness all of their movements to have been able to manipulate the hologram. They had to be somewhere in which they could control the sound-system, and they had to be somewhere in which there was plenty of room to hide. That must've narrowed it down a bit, mustn't it? The prosecutor rolled his eyes. Oh, hell. He'd have to go up there and see, for they most definitely weren't going to be down in the main part of the building, were they? The entire police-force would have been able to hear their squabbling.
"MS SKYE!" Edgeworth called out;
"YES?"
"I'M GOING UP. IF ANYONE NEEDS ME, THAT'S WHERE I'LL BE,"
"ALRIGHT, SIR, AND GOOD LUCK!" The prosecutor didn't bother responding to that. They didn't have time. He rushed up the creaking stairs, blissfully ignoring their constant groans. His heart began to pound and he began to feel slightly nauseous as he reached the wooden, musty, landing and began to pace up and down the hallway, contemplating whether to open the doors or not before finally giving in to temptation and smashing them wide open to reveal empty-room after empty-room, until he reached the final barrier. A door at the foot of the old crimson carpet and wine red, embellished, walls, with a rusty copper plate upon its cheap beechwood, encrusted with; 'Audio-room' upon the label. This was it.

The prosecutor hastily opened the door with such force that he thrusted himself straight into-