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WD - Chapter 264: The new coexistence
🕑 Added 2025-07-09 17:01:15 +0000 UTCSunday, June 5th, 2023. About five days had passed since classes at Nevermore had ended. Luke, who had paid Wednesday a surprise visit befor
Sunday, June 5th, 2023.
About five days had passed since classes at Nevermore had ended.
Luke, who had paid Wednesday a surprise visit before the school year closed, accompanied by Nyra, had never imagined that the real explosive twist of that night wouldn’t be a rescue mission facing demonic elder Spellmans, but rather his gothic girlfriend’s unexpected proposal: to start a polyamorous relationship that included his ex-girlfriend, Enid.
Yes, that had definitely been more shocking than seeing Margaret Spellman burst into flames and implode, while Luke hurled her skyward at sonic speed.
When they returned to Addams Manor, Enid didn’t come with them right away. She had to go back home to gather more of her things: clothes, books, and most importantly, to speak with her family.
Even though she was already sixteen and, as an outcast, had legal independence to make her own decisions, Luke knew talking to her mother, Esther Sinclair, wouldn’t be easy.
He remembered her well from when he used to date Enid: strict, critical, with a gaze that analyzed him like he was always just one step away from hurting her daughter. The idea of having her as a future mother-in-law again was… weird. Possible, but weird.
Still, Enid didn’t take long. One day after classes ended, she showed up at the manor with two suitcases, a backpack, and a determined smile. They had been living together for four days since.
It was a strange arrangement in the vast Addams mansion: Luke, Wednesday, Enid, Natasha, Pugsley, Lurch, Morticia, Fester, Gomez, Eudora Addams, Thing, and the wild little Nyra.
Enid took one of the many guest rooms and quickly transformed it to her liking. The gloomy, gothic air of the manor was invaded by pastel colors, soft lighting, and pillows shaped like cute animals. She’d put stickers on the mirrors, a lavender diffuser, and stuffed animals on the bed, creating a bubble of warmth and sweetness in the middle of that elegant nightmare of a Victorian castle.
Luke, for his part, had had his own room for a long time. There he kept his high-end computer, his TV, his space.
Same with Wednesday, although she slept most nights with him, she never gave up her personal room. Both of them valued their own spaces.
They liked having individual sanctuaries, even if Luke’s room had effectively become the shared master bedroom, since that was where they watched movies and did those kinds of things. It wasn’t a 15th-century dungeon like Wednesday’s room.
The four days living with Enid hadn’t been exactly comfortable for Luke, but they hadn’t been a disaster either.
There was a constant strangeness, yes, a feeling of being in new territory. But Wednesday took charge of mediating, of keeping tension balanced, even acting strangely proactive. She had learned that if she wanted this to work, she’d have to build bridges.
On one hand, Luke felt weird about the situation, and on the other, Enid was too nervous to naturally engage in conversations with him.
Enid behaved in a way only someone who really knew Luke could. She didn’t smother him. She didn’t chase after him. She wasn’t pushy or clingy. She was simply there: attentive, kind, warm at the right moments, and quiet in others.
As if she understood that the process of “falling in love again” wasn’t about seduction, but about resonating with his heart once more.
For Luke, it was a strange feeling. As if he were now the prey, the object to be won over. He was used to protecting, leading, controlling… and in this new setup, at times, he felt like the damsel who needed to be pursued.
An absurd thought, but a persistent one.
He was a four-aura user who had literally turned a critical situation on its head, saving Wednesday, Enid, and the others. His training had placed him among the elite of the outcast world, he knew that.
In practice, only the demonic elders, and Edward Spellman himself, posed a real threat to him.
The remaining members of the Spellmans’ second branch? Their allies lurking in the shadows? They weren’t opponents. At his current level, especially with Eclipse, Luke could take them out in seconds. Maybe a few might last a couple of minutes. That was it.
That’s why feeling vulnerable in an emotional situation threw him off. It felt almost ironic that, after surviving brutal fights and killing psychics with centuries of power, romance was what unsettled him.
The idea of a girl trying to make him fall in love again.
Looking at him not as something unbeatable, but as something precious.
Of course, none of this was an ordinary teenage drama. This wasn’t a normal summer.
They weren’t sixteen-year-olds planning trips and campouts. This was the prelude to war.
They had captured the two Spellman twins.
And three hooded figures who had been operating as secret allies of the Spellmans.
Every day, there were meetings at Addams Manor with Gomez, who held a high-ranking position on the Outcast Council, along with other council members like Octavius, the leader of the other Addams branch, and more.
There were reports, maps, mission planning, and the interrogations and mental intrusions had begun, targeting the minds of the Spellman twins: Anna and Jane.
Anna and Jane were the last living members of the Spellman main branch.
The Spellmans had two main branches, but the most powerful one was the patriarchal line: Elliot, his brother Gabriel, their mother Margaret (a dual-user), and so on.
However, that patriarchal branch had been mostly wiped out by Luke, along with Wednesday, Fester, and others.
According to the information they had, only eight Spellmans from the other branch were still alive, including two teenagers Luke’s age, and one preteen around eleven.
The minds of Anna and Jane weren’t easy to break into. They had advanced psychic defenses, likely implanted by demonic elders skilled in such arts to prevent their secrets from falling into enemy hands if captured.
Fortunately, they didn’t have the suicidal kind of defenses, those that kill the host from within the moment an intrusion is detected.
Charles, Luke’s telepathic mentor, led the mental intrusion team alongside other high-level psychics. In recent days, they had managed to extract important information.
First: the exact number of remaining demonic elders. There were originally eleven. Four had already been eliminated: Mortimer, Aldric, Vespera, and another, taken down by Gomez and Fester, leaving seven still active, including Edward.
Another key piece of information they managed to retrieve was the location of the secret base currently being used. They had an address, and although the Council’s agents found it empty by the time they arrived, it provided a strong starting point to track them down.
Beyond that, there wasn’t much more critical intel they could extract.
The identity of the Spellmans’ winged allies remained a mystery even to Anna and Jane. All external collaborators operated under masks and false identities.
The circle was airtight. Only Edward, and perhaps one or two high-ranking leaders, knew the truth. It was a logical strategy, if any of their spies within the Council were exposed, the entire network would collapse.
With that information exhausted, the twins had ceased to be useful. Their public execution was scheduled for three days from now, at the Council’s central headquarters.
It was a symbolic decision. A display of authority. A message: traitors will not be forgiven, even if they carry noble blood.
But it was also a provocation.
The Council wanted to see if the Spellmans would dare show up. If they would attempt to rescue the last two heirs of a nearly extinct branch. If they made that mistake, everything was in place: defenses, traps, powerful weapons, and the Council’s strongest fighters, ready for battle.
Luke, Wednesday, Enid, Gomez, and the others would also be there.
And if Edward came… it would be time. The confrontation everyone knew was inevitable.
Only three days remained before the war stopped being skirmishes and quick strikes… and became a full-on frontal battle, the most destructive one yet.
That is, if the Spellmans chose to attempt a rescue mission.
As for Luke, he thought it was a good idea. And if the Spellmans somehow succeeded… Anna and Jane didn’t seem like a serious threat to him.
While he pondered these possibilities, a fist passed within inches of his face, brushing his cheek with a gust of dry wind.
“Focus!” growled a firm voice.
Luke shook his head, snapping back to the present, and countered with a swift knee strike aimed straight at his opponent’s abdomen: Natasha.
She barely had time to transform her palm into a metallic, hardened surface, blocking the blow directly. The impact echoed with a dull, heavy thud. The force was such that it pushed her backward a few steps, leaving marks on the training floor.
Natasha lowered her hand, letting it return to its normal form. She gave it a quick shake, wearing a half-smile.
“Whoa… even distracted, you can fight me while holding back and using only your green aura,” she said, part impressed, part proud.
Luke breathed through his nose, his chest barely rising. They were in the underground training room at Addams Manor, completely soundproofed and reinforced. He had been training with Natasha for almost two hours. But not at full power. No, that would be pointless.
The rules were clear:
No white aura, no blue aura, no yellow aura. No clairvoyance, no mental powers, no commands, no telekinesis.
Just his body, enhanced by the green aura, the source of his raw strength, speed, and pure reflexes.
If he used his white aura, he could read Natasha’s intentions in advance or see every move before it happened.
If he used telekinesis, he could bring her down without even touching her.
And if he used his mental powers, he could trap her in illusions, freeze her movements, or read her thoughts to know exactly where she would strike, ending the fight in seconds.
But that wasn’t the goal.
He was training at the edge of his limits with the sole purpose of strengthening his green aura.
Pushing his body past muscular failure. Forcing his cardiovascular system. Sharpening his reflexes without relying on any of his other auras.
Since he had awakened his green aura less than a year ago, it was the most underdeveloped of them all.
His strength with the green aura now approached six tons, not bad, but far too little compared to enemies who could easily possess twenty tons of force or more.
Of course, against lethal enemies, he wouldn’t rely on the green aura alone.
But if he could raise his base strength, then when enhanced with telekinesis or Eclipse, he would be far more powerful.
And truthfully, increasing the level of his telekinesis was much harder, which is why he was now focused on his green aura.
For this kind of training, Natasha was an excellent sparring partner.
Although most shapeshifters didn’t specialize in brute strength, their gift being adaptability, not raw power, Natasha was an exception.
Through ancient rituals, years of practice, and precise mastery of her ability, she had raised her base strength to over five tons. Her body could mutate between reinforced tissue, metal, and armored forms. She combined brutality and technique with decades of experience.
So when she and Luke fought using only base strength, they were very evenly matched.
Natasha had better martial arts technique, but with all the experience Luke had gained through his ferocious training with Gomez, Fester, and Stalin, his current combat skills were far from lacking.
"What were you thinking about?" asked Natasha, cracking her neck with a small pop.
"You were distracted. Your new polyamorous relationship?"
Luke grimaced at that last question. Of course Natasha knew about it.
How was he supposed to explain that, out of nowhere, his ex-girlfriend had come to live here? Knowing Wednesday’s personality, and his own, there was no way he could lie to Natasha.
"Not that... The execution. Wondering if Edward will show up, if they'll try to rescue them or something," Luke replied, wiping the sweat from his brow with the back of his arm.
"And do you want him to show up?" Natasha asked, watching him seriously.
Luke shrugged, "I wouldn't mind. I want this to be over."
Natasha looked at him carefully. She knew what that meant.
Luke wasn’t speaking from ego or arrogance.
He was speaking like someone tired of waiting, someone who just wanted the war to end already.
"You can still improve your green aura a lot. And when that happens, no one will be able to stop you. So it's better if the final battle doesn’t happen yet. With just a few more months, you could boost your physical strength and regeneration so much more... You need to be patient," Natasha said, circling around, ready for the next round.
Luke nodded, "I know. Let’s go one more round," he said, flexing his fingers. "But this time… no sermons mid-fight."
"Sermons?" Natasha replied, raising an eyebrow, "I took care of you for years. I’ve earned the right."
The sparring match continued.
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