Edgeworth looked him straight in the eye, expectant, stern. But when the nightmare suddenly disappeared from the room, his certainty faltered. He stared down the hall after him, unsure of what he was doing (what might be coming). His stomach gave a sick lurch as nervous anticipation suffused his body, and he had to turn away from that dark doorway, squeeze his eyes shut and massage his arm in an old, familiar gesture.

Thankfully, he managed to keep from starting when he registered the Corinthian's presence hovering before him, though his eyes shot open a bit too quickly. The blanket was a welcome sight. He laid it across his body, awkwardly tucking it in around his shoulders as tightly as he could while the nightmare said words he didn't want to hear.

"...You will try," he eventually replied. His gaze was fixed on the dark, red-brown stain marring his pristine carpet. "You will undoubtedly make things...extremely unpleasant for him. He's probably unwittingly forfeited all his restful nights from this point on. Beyond that..."

Wearily he turned to meet his friend's eyes. "Beyond that, there are no guarantees. He's more than a formidable opponent. He's untouchable."