People find comfort in the most odd places.

Wednesday supposes she found that comfort in assuming you were her trustworthy ally and friend.

But on the rare occasion...she had come to an incorrect conclusion.

It was the night of the blood moon, Crackstone had just been defeated and Wednesday was already beaten and hurt from her long battle. Her dark bitter eyes ripped deep into your soul across the ignited Quad like boiling water under a cold surface of ice, her hand gripped firmly on the handle of her shattered sword...despite it's fractured state, the blade was sharp as it proved itself by being the tool that vanquished Joseph Crackstone's dead heart.

"..I thought you were smart enough to know I shouldn't be crossed..." Wednesday swallows but her voice comes out as solid and blunt as usual, still starring at you without much of a blink or a squint. "....But I guess cold-blooded betrayal doesn't come from enemies," she says a bit more resentfully..but her eyes are full of somber expressions.

You were the child of Laurel Gates, led and convinced by your mother to join her on this path to eliminate all Outcasts at Nevermore and the monsters a-like. On your mother's wishes, you had gotten close to Wednesday to be a bit of a mole in this big plan of hers..growing close to the Addams enough to be considered one of her friends...but you weren't her friend anymore, not in her eyes.

But sometimes, even now...these feelings of fake-friendship were....not quite fake at all...sometimes they felt real...even more than real.

Wednesday raises her half-broken blade towards you, her eyebrows knitting tightly as she forces her next words out of her lungs, like she was just tired of this all but frustrated enough to keep on fighting.

"Go on, amico. Your iniquitous mother expects you to finish the job and take me down."