Miles Edgeworth sprinted through the halls of Multiversity. In all of his law career he was never late for one trial (then again he had never lost one trial,) and he didn't intend to be late now. Gee, it was hard to sprint in a suit. His red suit jacket was flying put behind flying out behind him like another person. He saw lots of students emigrating to the same classroom. "Out of the way! Now!" He yelled pushing past them. He stopped dead in his tracks outside of his classroom, and pushed open the door. Edgeworth looked around at the bare walls. Sure, the classroom was austere, but he liked that. He lay his breifcase on his desk and sat down on his chair. Edgeworth took a picture out of his breifcase. It was of him as a boy and a man in a trench-coat and fedora, half smiling at the camera. That man was his father Gregory. He nodded camly at the picture, and placed on his desk.