Two days had passed since Luke regained consciousness.
During those days, he was discharged by Wednesday's grandmother and was finally able to get out of bed without Wednesday scolding him.
He also had a conversation the night before with Edgar. It had been a long time since he last spoke with his great-great-grandfather, who rarely emerged from the necklace anymore.
That night, the ghost appeared with a faint glow, as if the energy that once surrounded him had been drained by time. Even so, when he saw Luke, a wide and proud smile spread across his spectral face.
Edgar was very happy with the news. Luke had never seen him so ecstatic. It was understandable, after such a long time, they were finally very close to victory.
It had finally been revealed to the outcast society that the Spellmans were making pacts with demons.
"I never imagined that the skinny, stubborn kid who could barely walk a few miles to Nevermore would accomplish all this," Edgar said, laughing. "Let alone kill Elliot, the Spellman patriarch, and even less, awaken a fourth aura!"
Luke smiled, though he couldn't help but notice something strange. Edgar, always chatty, mocking, and sarcastic, was now speaking more slowly. His floating figure, once vibrant and luminous, looked blurry around the edges as if he were slowly fading away.
"Are you okay? Last time I saw you, you looked brighter," Luke said, frowning.
Edgar paused. Then sighed.
"Not entirely. As you know, I've been searching for the Poe soul weapon for a long time. But that bastard weapon hid itself well. It's not just an object, it's semi-conscious. As you might've guessed, my soul was never inside the weapon, even though it should've been. I chose to remain in the physical world as a ghost, to guide the Poe descendants in the fight," Edgar said in a serious tone.
"Are you saying...?" Luke asked, leaving the sentence unfinished.
Edgar nodded, slowly.
"I'm connecting to it slowly and willingly. I'm doing it so I can find its whereabouts. Because it's time for you to have it, especially now, at this crucial moment," said Edgar.
"But if you connect to it..." said Luke, without finishing the sentence.
"I'll be gone. Once my soul finally enters the weapon, I'll cease to exist as a ghost and I won't be able to speak to you anymore," Edgar said bluntly.
"You don't have to do this," said Luke, crossing his arms. "I have four auras. The numbers are in our favor. The Spellmans are going to fall, with or without that weapon."
Edgar looked at him in silence for a few seconds. Then he smiled faintly.
"You know that's your way of saying you care about me, right?" Edgar said with a hint of joking.
He continued before Luke could protest.
"And yes, you're right. The Spellmans are in a bad position, they're backed into a corner, you have four auras and you're stronger than ever, but the Soul Weapon isn't just an advantage... it's a multiplier. Your power will increase several times with it. Your ability to condense waves into the weapon will be terrifying, and much easier, much faster."
"On top of that, now is the best time to find it, with the war already underway. Sooner or later I'll have to do this anyway. I can't remain a ghost for eternity," Edgar concluded.
Luke lowered his gaze without arguing. He knew Edgar was right.
"And don't worry," added Edgar, guessing what he was thinking. "It's not like I'm going to vanish right now, or tomorrow. The process is slow. Very slow. I have to merge with the soul of the weapon bit by bit. If I did it all at once, I'd vanish... and I wouldn't be able to tell you where it is. But if I do it patiently, layer by layer, I can sense its location... guide you to it... before I disappear completely."
"How long do you have before you find it?" Luke asked in a low voice.
"I'm not sure. A few months at best," Edgar replied. Luckily, the process had already begun some time ago, which was why his spectral form was weaker now.
"Mm... I see," said Luke, wearing a displeased expression. He didn't want to lose Edgar. He had been the family who introduced him to the world of outcasts, taught him, and even gave him advice on things like love. The idea of never seeing him again left a bitter taste, even if, in recent months, Edgar had rarely come out.
"Don't worry about me, kid. I should have been dead a long time ago, and I'm ready for death and to meet the people from my time," said Edgar, stepping closer and placing a ghostly hand on his shoulder.
Luke nodded slightly.
After a few more words, Edgar returned to his necklace.
Feeling a bit melancholic and sad, Luke went to seek comfort from the only person who could truly provide it: Wednesday.
He walked through the dimly lit and gloomy Addams mansion. He climbed the stairs and opened the second door without knocking.
There she was, standing with her back to him, next to the bed, folding clothes with surgical precision. Each garment fit perfectly into her black suitcase, like pieces of a puzzle. Her expression was the same as always: unshaken and serene.
Luke stopped at the sight and couldn't help but frown.
Wednesday was packing to return to Nevermore.
Despite the chaos spreading among the outcasts, disappearances, rumors, skirmishes, covert attacks by the Spellmans, the world hadn't come to a halt. It was still mid-November, and Morticia had been firm: Wednesday couldn't keep missing school.
Luke walked over and sat at the edge of the bed, watching her.
"Do you really have to go? We're in the middle of a war. What's the point of taking Outcast History right now?" he asked, crossing his arms.
"It's a silent war," Wednesday replied without flinching, firmly zipping up her suitcase. "There are no large-scale or official battles yet. On the surface, everything seems normal, and for that very reason, classes go on."
"I know, I know, we need to find the spies and all that… but I'm not going back to Nevermore. You could stay here too," Luke said, waving his hand dismissively.
Wednesday turned to him calmly, though her dark eyes gleamed with a different kind of intensity.
"You're a special case, Luke. You awakened your fourth aura. That's not common in any psychic family. You need to train. You're our strongest card against Edward and the most powerful demonic elders," she said seriously.
Luke raised an eyebrow and looked at her with mock offense.
"You make it sound like I'm a weapon meant to kill. So thoughtful of you," he said, feigning hurt.
Wednesday couldn't help but roll her eyes.
"You are a weapon, and now you need to sharpen your new aura to be deadlier than ever," Wednesday said, placing her pale, cold hand on Luke's cheek.
"Wow, how sweet. One of the best compliments a girlfriend could give," Luke said with a slight smile.
"It is. And I want you to be sharpened so no one can kill you. Remember, there's a prophecy that made the Spellmans come after you. Edward and the other demonic elders still want to kill you as soon as possible," Wednesday said.
"Alright. I'll let myself be sharpened if you're that worried," said Luke at last, raising his hands in surrender.
"Good decision. Your grandfather's coming tomorrow, right?" asked Wednesday.
"Yeah… Stanley Umbrio. Who would've thought I'd see him again," said Luke with a slight grimace.
The Umbrio family had turned their backs on Sophie, even though she was from the main branch and had stood up to demonic psychics. Now the Umbrio, especially Stanley, Sophie's father, wanted to help in the war and would use all of the family's power, mostly out of guilt.
Gomez, with his classic blend of wisdom and madness, had suggested to Luke that he reveal his green aura to Stanley, since the Umbrio have a long tradition of green aura users, and Stanley himself possesses a green aura and is one of the most powerful psychics with it.
Luke had agreed.
That's why, the next day, Stanley would arrive to stay temporarily at the Addams mansion to train him personally.
Stanley wouldn't be the only trainer.
Fester and Gomez would also be his trainers, each in their own way… which was both reassuring and alarming at the same time.
On one hand, Luke felt excited. Having three such strong and experienced figures focused on his growth was a unique opportunity.
His strength would grow by leaps and bounds.
On the other hand… he was fully aware of who he was dealing with.
Gomez was brilliant, but unpredictable.
Fester… lived in another reality entirely.
And Stanley, though he had always seemed like the typical kind and quiet grandfather… Luke didn't trust appearances. He knew there was something strange beneath that calm façade. He was probably some kind of control freak. A meticulous and severe maniac. The kind of old man who breaks a chair over your back if you don't learn a technique fast enough.
Wednesday glanced at him, catching his expression.
"Aren't you thrilled to see your grandpa?" she asked sarcastically, crossing her arms. "Looks like your heart's melting."
Luke raised an eyebrow.
"Yeah, I'm bursting with excitement. I can't wait to see his true personality," said Luke.
Wednesday let out a brief, barely audible exhale. Maybe an internal laugh. But as soon as she looked at him more closely, she noticed something had changed.
The teasing expression on Luke's face had faded.
His gaze had dimmed a little.
And then she understood. She knew Luke had just spoken with Edgar.
"How was the talk with Edgar, after all this time?" Wednesday asked bluntly.
Luke shrugged, not feeling like saying much. In a quiet voice, he told her the essentials. That Edgar was going to slowly connect with the Soul Weapon, that he would guide him to it… and that after that, he would disappear forever.
Wednesday listened without interrupting. She just looked at him. Observed his expression, his tone, his body that seemed more tense than usual.
She knew him. She knew Luke didn't cry.
Without saying a word, Wednesday slowly climbed onto Luke. And before he could say anything, she gently pushed him back and kissed him.
Luke, his heart beating a little faster, let himself get carried away, though he couldn't help but ask between kisses,
"Wednesday? What are you doing...?"
Wednesday looked at him, her face just inches from his. Her lips barely curving into a smile.
"Let's just say I have my own way of cheering you up," Wednesday whispered.
"Definitely better than an emotional talk," said Luke with a slight smile.
"Of course," Wednesday replied, and kissed him again, while starting to unbutton his shirt.
Luke had been right to come to Wednesday's room looking for comfort.
Though… not exactly in the way he had imagined.
---------------------------------------------------
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