First File. [video]

[verily_ergo]

[On clicks the video feed. Someone seems to be tapping the device, but all that can be seen, for the moment, is a shifting, gray darkness. A bit of light flickers in when the holder seems to pull back, and a very stern-looking man dressed in a maroon jacket, gray vest and a distinct, white ruffly neck accessory

Comments

[motherindia]

As you've probably already heard, we're stuck here.

And apparently, whoever is keeping us here has a twisted sense of humor.

[verily_ergo]

I have.

... What makes you say that? Aside from the apparent method of bringing us here under false pretenses.

[motherindia]

Some of the gravestones in the graveyard have names of people we know.

People who are still alive.

[verily_ergo]

...

That... is a very sick sense of humor, if it's a sense of humor at all. [You just gave him chills.]

I-I'm ... Miles Edgeworth, and you are...?

[motherindia]

It's twisted.

[Her tone changes when she introduces herself. Very formal.] It's a pleasure to meet you. I'm Indo, the Republic of India.

[verily_ergo]

The pleasure is mine. ...Ah, there seem to be quite a few... 'nations' here.

[motherindia]

It's almost as if it's a reunion, though many of them are from a different world than I am.

Many here don't seem to be accustomed to us. It seems as though some don't believe that we are nations.

[verily_ergo]

... I can see why. Not to offend, but the idea that someone is a nation... is absurd. Perhaps in fiction, I could consider the idea of a nation personified...

... however, given that I am now trapped in a house with others who are also unable to escape, I believe my priorities are beginning to change.