God's Ultimate Cheat Console

A month had flown by since the harrowing events at Jericho, and life had settled into a new, albeit unexpected, rhythm for Spike. Today found him sitting at the long dining table of Sweet Apple Acres, surrounded by the boisterous Apple family, discussing plans that would've seemed unfathomable to him just weeks before—the upcoming wedding of him and Applejack.

Granny Smith, ever the matriarch, was leading the charge, her enthusiasm undimmed by age. "Now, we gotta make sure we got enough apples for the apple fritters, apple pies, apple turnovers... This ain't just any wedding, it's an Apple family wedding!"

Spike, who had been sipping on a glass of sweet apple cider, nearly choked at the exhaustive list of apple-themed menu items. "Um, do you think maybe we could have a few non-apple items? Just for variety?"

The table went silent, all eyes turning to him as if he'd suggested serving dragon meat. After a tense moment, Big Mac broke the silence with his deep, rumbling voice, "Eeeyup, but that'd be mighty untraditional."

Apple Bloom, ever the voice of mischief, piped up from her seat. "We could have apple-less apple pie! Just the crust!"

The table erupted into laughter, even as Applejack gave her sister a playful nudge. "Now, don't you go teasing Spike like that. Though, I reckon a little variety wouldn't hurt. How 'bout some peach cobbler?"

Granny Smith appeared to consider this for a moment before nodding grudgingly. "Alright, but only 'cause it's y'all's special day. And only one non-apple dish!"

Bright Mac leaned over to Spike, a twinkle in his eye. "You think this is something? Wait 'til we start talking about decorations. We once had a debate over the right shade of red for barn paint that lasted three days."

Pear Butter, sitting beside her husband, nodded in agreement. "And don't get me started on the music. If it were up to Granny, we'd have nothing but banjo solos all night."

Spike, absorbing the loving banter and chaos of Apple family wedding planning, couldn't help but feel a warmth spreading through him. This was a far cry from the solitary life he had known, filled with adventures and dangers. Here, amid debates over apple dishes and banjo solos, he found a sense of belonging he hadn't realized he'd been searching for.

As the conversation turned to whether the wedding arch should be adorned with Golden Delicious or Granny Smith apples, Spike caught Applejack's eye. She smiled at him, a smile that spoke of shared futures and mutual understanding.

In that moment, Spike knew no matter how comical, chaotic, or apple-filled his future with the Apple family might be, there was nowhere else he'd rather be. The road to this point had been anything but straightforward, but looking around the table at his soon-to-be family, Spike felt a profound sense of gratitude and contentment. The wedding of Spike and Applejack wasn't just a union of two hearts; it was a celebration of community, resilience, and the unexpected paths that lead to home.

Stepping out into the cool evening air, Spike sought a moment of solitude, a brief escape from the whirlwind of wedding planning that had overtaken Sweet Apple Acres. The sky was painted with the soft hues of twilight, casting a peaceful glow over the farm. However, the tranquility of the scene did little to quiet the turmoil within him. Lost in thought, he gazed into the distance, his mind replaying the events of Jericho over and over, each memory a sharp reminder of the cost of victory.

Applejack, noticing Spike's absence, slipped out of the house to find him. Concern etched her features as she approached, spotting his distant stare. "Hey there, sugarcube," she began gently, her voice a soothing balm in the quiet of the evening. "You alright? You've been out here a while, just starin' off into space. You're not havin' second thoughts, are ya?"

Spike turned to her, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "No, Applejack, it's not that. I promise," he reassured her, seeing the worry in her eyes. "I was just thinking about Jericho, about everything that happened. I know we've got a lot to be happy about, but sometimes, it just... it all comes back, you know?"

Applejack nodded, moving closer to wrap an arm around him, offering a silent support. "I understand, Spike. Those things ain't easy to forget. But you're not alone in this, remember that."

After a moment, she hesitated before asking, "Have you been seeing that psychologist? The one Princess Celestia recommended? You said you would."

Spike sighed, nodding. "Yeah, I have. It's been... helpful, in a way. Talking about it, trying to make sense of it all. It's a process, they said. It takes time."

Applejack squeezed his hand, her gaze full of compassion and understanding. "I'm proud of you for that. It takes a lot of strength to face those demons. And I want you to know, no matter what, I'm here for you. We all are. This family, your family now, we stick together through thick and thin."

The sincerity in her voice, the warmth of her embrace, offered a comfort Spike hadn't known he needed. In the face of the shadows that lingered from his past, it was the promise of a future with Applejack and her family that shone the brightest. A future where he could find healing, where the burdens of yesterday would be lifted by the love and support of those who stood by him.

As the first stars began to twinkle in the evening sky, Spike and Applejack stood together in silent solidarity, their hearts united by an unspoken vow to navigate whatever challenges lay ahead, together. The road to recovery would be long and winding, but with Applejack by his side, Spike felt a renewed sense of hope.

THE NEXT DAY

The following day found Spike in the familiar, yet still somehow foreign, surroundings of Dr. Castaneda's office. Seated across from the psychologist, he found himself once again retreating into the silence that had become his refuge. The weight of his thoughts anchored him to the spot, his gaze fixed on an unseen point in the void that lay before him, lost in the labyrinth of his mind.

Dr. Castaneda observed Spike with a mix of professional concern and genuine empathy. The progress they had made was real, yet fragile, and she sensed a pivotal moment had arrived in Spike's journey. "Spike," she began, her voice soft yet firm, breaking the silence that had settled between them. "I know we've spent a lot of time discussing Jericho and Nazareth, and while those experiences are crucial to understand, I think it's time we talk about you. Not the hero everyone sees, not the survivor, but Spike. The person who existed before all of this and who continues to exist now."

Spike's eyes flickered, momentarily caught off guard by the shift in focus. The mention of his anomaly, his power, intrigued him. It was a part of him that had always been shrouded in mystery and isolation, rarely understood by others, and even less frequently discussed.

Dr. Castaneda continued, "I've seen your medical file, Spike. Your abilities, your resilience, they're beyond extraordinary. But with great power comes a unique set of challenges, doesn't it? I want to understand, from your perspective, what it's like living with this... anomaly. How has it shaped you, influenced your decisions, your relationships?"

For a moment, Spike hesitated, wrestling with the vulnerability that opening up required. Yet, something in Dr. Castaneda's approach, her genuine desire to understand him beyond the surface, broke through the walls he had built. Slowly, he began to speak, his words initially halting but gaining momentum as he delved deeper into his story.

He talked about his early realization of being different, the isolation that followed, and the double-edged sword his powers represented. Spike recounted the moments of awe and fear his abilities had inspired in others, and how those reactions had sculpted his sense of self and his place in the world. He spoke of his struggles with identity, with finding a purpose that transcended the labels others had placed on him.

Dr. Castaneda listened intently, her notes momentarily forgotten as she absorbed every word. Spike's story was one of extraordinary circumstances, but at its core, it was a profoundly human tale of searching for belonging, meaning, and acceptance.

As the session drew to a close, something remarkable had shifted in the room. Spike, for the first time in a long while, felt heard, truly understood. And Dr. Castaneda, for her part, had gained a deeper appreciation for the complex, resilient individual seated before her.

"This is just the beginning, Spike," she said, offering him an encouraging smile. "Your journey is uniquely yours, but you don't have to walk it alone. Remember, your strength isn't just in your powers. It's in your ability to face your vulnerabilities and grow from them."

As the session with Dr. Castaneda progressed, a moment of silence fell, a palpable shift in the atmosphere as Spike grappled with a confession that had long been simmering beneath the surface. "I feel... strange," he finally admitted, his voice barely above a whisper, charged with an underlying turmoil. "Like I've lost my humanity somehow. I look in the mirror, and I don't see myself—I see a monster. And I'm terrified, not of what might happen to me, but of what I might do to those around me."

Dr. Castaneda regarded him with a calm, understanding gaze, recognizing the depth of pain and fear his words conveyed. "Spike, what you're feeling isn't uncommon among those who've experienced what you have. The fear of losing control, of harming the people we care about—it's a burden, but it's also a sign of your humanity, not its absence. You care, deeply, and that compassion is what makes you human, not a monster."

She leaned forward slightly, her demeanor both professional and profoundly empathetic. "There are ways to navigate these feelings, to reclaim the parts of yourself that feel lost. One strategy is to channel these emotions into something constructive, something that allows you to express what's inside in a safe, controlled manner."

Pausing for a moment, Dr. Castaneda offered a gentle suggestion. "Have you ever considered writing music or poems? Creative expression can be a powerful outlet for the emotions you're wrestling with. It's a way to explore and understand your feelings, to give them a shape and a voice that's wholly yours. It doesn't have to be for anyone else's ears or eyes but your own."

Spike looked up, a flicker of curiosity in his eyes. The idea of using music or poetry as a means to cope with his internal strife was something he hadn't considered. He remembered the times music had soothed him, the way certain lyrics resonated with his own experiences. The prospect of creating something that could both express and alleviate his tumultuous emotions was unexpectedly appealing.

"I... I've never really tried," Spike admitted, the seed of an idea beginning to take root. "But I think I'd like to. It might help, having a way to let all of this out without... without fear."

Dr. Castaneda smiled encouragingly. "I think it's a wonderful idea. You don't need to be a professional musician or poet. It's about the process, not the product. Give yourself permission to explore, to experiment. You might be surprised by what you discover—not just about your abilities, but about yourself."

As the session drew to a close, Spike felt a sense of purpose he hadn't felt in a long time. The suggestion to channel his emotions into music or poetry offered a glimmer of hope, a potential path towards healing. He left Dr. Castaneda's office with a newfound determination to try, to create something that could capture the complexity of his feelings, to find a way to communicate the incommunicable.

The conversation with Dr. Castaneda had opened a door for Spike, a way to confront his fears and uncertainties not with resignation, but with creativity and resilience. It was a small step, perhaps, but one that pointed towards a future where he could see himself not as a monster, but as a human, flawed but fighting, seeking and sometimes finding, the light amidst the darkness.

LATER THAT NIGHT

The penthouse was quiet, the only sound the gentle hum of the city below, a symphony of distant lives and stories unfolding beneath the veil of night. Spike stood by the window, his gaze lost in the sea of lights that stretched out before him, each one a beacon in the darkness. Dr. Castaneda's words echoed in his mind, a mantra that sparked a flicker of hope in the shadows of his thoughts.

His eyes drifted to the built-in studio, its presence in his home a testament to a newfound curiosity and perhaps, a hidden desire for expression that he hadn't fully acknowledged until now. The studio was equipped with an array of instruments, each one mastered with the help of his console, yet untouched by genuine passion—until tonight.

With a deep breath, Spike walked over to the piano. He sat before it, a sense of reverence washing over him as his fingers hovered above the keys. The instrument was both familiar and alien, its potential for creation and expression vast and unexplored. For a moment, he simply sat there, allowing the silence to envelop him, to fill the space between possibility and action.

Then, almost hesitantly, he pressed down on a key. The note that rang out was clear, resonant, a call that awakened something within him. More notes followed, tentative at first, then with growing confidence. Melodies began to weave together, forming the outline of a song that had lived within him, unvoiced and unheard.

Lyrics surfaced in his mind, words born from the depths of his experiences, his fears, his hopes. The studio, once just a part of his penthouse, transformed into a sanctuary of sorts, a place where the tumult of his inner world could find expression.

Grateful for Applejack's absence—knowing the noise would have kept her awake—Spike moved to the drum kit. The transition from the piano to the drums felt like stepping from one world into another, each instrument offering a different texture, a different voice to the emotions he sought to express.

As he struck the first beat, a smile broke across his face, pure and unguarded. It was the joy of creation, of connection to something profound and deeply personal. For hours, he played, moving from one instrument to another, each note, each beat, a step on the path towards healing.

The music he created that night was raw, unpolished, but undeniably real. It was a testament to his journey, a reflection of the pain and beauty of being alive. And in the solitude of the night, with the city as his witness, Spike found something he hadn't even realized he'd been searching for: a sense of peace, a moment of unadulterated joy.

The dawn found him exhausted but fulfilled, surrounded by the evidence of his nocturnal creativity. As the first light of the day crept into the studio, illuminating the instruments and the scattered sheets of lyrics, Spike knew that this was only the beginning. The path ahead was still uncertain, fraught with challenges and memories that would always be a part of him. But now, he had a new tool, a new way to face the darkness and find his way back to the light.

In the quiet aftermath of creation, Spike understood that while the music might not change the past, it could shape the future. It was a bridge between the man he had been and the man he was becoming—a reminder that even in the deepest despair, there could be beauty, hope, and redemption.

A FEW DAYS LATER

A few days after Spike's night of musical revelation, the living room was filled with the low buzz of the morning show, the TV screen flickering with images of celebrities and upcoming movies. It was a typical day, with the anchors moving smoothly from one hot topic to another, discussing box office predictions and celebrity gossip with practiced ease.

Then, the tone shifted, and one of the anchors, a woman with a keen eye for trends, leaned forward slightly, her expression one of genuine excitement. "In music news, there's a new band that's been making waves across the internet and music industry alike. They're called 'Wyrm Sovereign,' and their debut song 'Thread the Needle' has become an overnight sensation, trending on social media and climbing music charts at an unprecedented rate."

Her co-anchor, intrigued, picked up the thread. "That's right, 'Wyrm Sovereign.' There's been a lot of speculation about the band's members, as they've chosen to remain anonymous, but whoever they are, they've certainly captured the public's imagination. 'Thread the Needle' has been praised for its unique sound and deeply resonant lyrics. It's not just a song; it's being called an experience."

The screen then split, showing clips from the music video of "Thread the Needle," a mesmerizing blend of visuals that perfectly complemented the haunting melody and poignant lyrics. The song, with its complex layers and emotional depth, spoke to listeners on a personal level, resonating with their own experiences and struggles.

The anchors continued to discuss the phenomenon, mentioning how music critics and fans alike were lauding the song for its authenticity and the raw emotion it conveyed. "It's rare to see a debut song take off like this," the female anchor noted. "Especially one that touches on themes of struggle, redemption, and the human condition with such clarity and depth. 'Wyrm Sovereign' may be new to the scene, but they're already making a significant impact."

As the segment wrapped up, they teased the possibility of an exclusive interview with the mysterious band in the coming weeks, urging viewers to stay tuned for updates. The screen faded back to the anchors, who shared a look of anticipation, clearly as caught up in the mystery and excitement surrounding 'Wyrm Sovereign' as their audience.

Unseen, in the comfort of his living room, Spike watched the segment with a mixture of disbelief and pride. To see "Thread the Needle"—a song born from his most personal moments, his fears, and hopes—embraced by so many was overwhelming. The decision to release his music under the name 'Wyrm Sovereign' had been impulsive, a way to put his feelings into the world while keeping his privacy. Yet, here he was, witnessing the ripple effect of his creation, touching lives in ways he had never imagined.

Motivated by the unexpected and overwhelming response to "Thread the Needle," Spike found himself once again drawn to the sanctuary of his studio. The world outside, with its buzz and speculation about Wyrm Sovereign, faded into the background as he immersed himself in the creation of new music. The two songs he had been working on, each distinct in its melody and message, were nearing completion, fueled by the outpouring of support and curiosity his music had ignited.

For two weeks, Spike put the finishing touches on the tracks, feeling a blend of anticipation and vulnerability, only leaving his apartment if it was an emergency, or when Applejack called him for some important reason, or just to check up on him. Deciding to ride the wave of momentum, he compiled the songs into an EP titled "One," a nod to the beginning of this unforeseen journey and the unity he hoped his music would inspire. In the quiet hours of the early morning, he uploaded "One" to the internet, his heart thrumming with a mixture of excitement and nerves.

The next day, the reaction was immediate and even more fervent than before. The morning show anchors, who had been among the first to spotlight Wyrm Sovereign, were effusive in their praise of "One." The female anchor's enthusiasm was palpable as she spoke, "Wyrm Sovereign has done it again, releasing an EP that's nothing short of a masterpiece. 'One's songs “Field of Elation” and “When the Bough Breaks” delve even deeper into the human experience, each track a testament to the band's incredible talent and insight."

Her co-anchor nodded in agreement, adding, "And it's not just us singing their praises. Celebrities, critics, and fans worldwide have been quick to express their admiration for Wyrm Sovereign's latest work. It seems they've struck a chord that resonates on a global scale."

The segment featured clips from the EP, showcasing the diverse range and emotional depth of the music. Social media reactions from celebrities and influencers were highlighted, with many expressing how the songs had moved them or offered solace and inspiration.

As Spike watched, a sense of surreal satisfaction washed over him. The decision to share his music, to bare his soul through melody and lyric, had connected him to countless others in ways he had never anticipated. Wyrm Sovereign, a project born from his darkest moments and deepest reflections, had become a beacon of hope and understanding for people from all walks of life.

Lying in the comfortable embrace of his bed, the tranquility of the morning was abruptly shattered by a series of urgent knocks that rapidly escalated into a forceful pounding on his front door. Startled, Spike barely had time to react before the door was unceremoniously thrust open, revealing Applejack, her face etched with concern that swiftly dissolved into visible anger upon laying eyes on him.

"Spike! Do you have any idea how worried I've been? You haven't answered a single one of my calls or messages for an entire week!" Applejack's voice filled the room, a mixture of relief and frustration, as Spike stared at her, taken aback by the sudden intrusion and the intensity of her emotions.

Rushing to his phone, Spike's eyes widened at the sight of the numerous missed calls and unread messages, a stark reminder of his recent disconnect from everything but his music. He turned to face Applejack, ready to explain, to apologize for the unintended silence that had caused her so much distress.

But Applejack, always perceptive, had already put the pieces together. The look in her eyes shifted from anger to a complex blend of emotions as she confronted him. "You've been busy with your music, haven't you? 'Wyrm Sovereign'... I saw the news, Spike. That's you, isn't it?" Her voice softened, the anger receding as understanding and curiosity took its place.

Spike exhaled, a mix of relief and apprehension filling him as he nodded. "Yes, it's me. I'm sorry, Applejack, I didn't mean to worry you. I just... got caught up in it all. The music, the creation, it became everything for a while. I needed it, but I should've reached out, let you know I was okay."

Applejack took a step closer, her initial anger now replaced by a sense of awe and pride. "Spike, I can't believe it... Your music, it's been everywhere. Everyone's talking about it. It's incredible, really. But you scared me, sugarcube. I thought something had happened to you."

The room was filled with an emotional charge, an unspoken understanding passing between them. Spike reached for her hand, squeezing it gently. "I'm sorry, truly. I never meant to make you worry. And thank you, for being here, for caring so much. I guess I lost myself in the music for a bit there, but I promise, I'll be better at keeping in touch. You mean the world to me, Applejack."

Applejack smiled, the warmth in her eyes melting away any remaining tension. "Well, I reckon I can forgive you, just this once. But you owe me a private concert, Mr. 'Wyrm Sovereign.' I want to hear all about this new adventure of yours."

THE NEXT MORNING

The morning sun cast a warm glow over the city as Spike and Applejack found themselves standing somewhat awkwardly in front of the hospital's OBGYN clinic. Spike, still trying to piece together the events that had led them here, looked at Applejack with an expression that was a mix of confusion and concern. Before he could voice his flurry of questions, Applejack turned to him, a slight smile playing on her lips as she anticipated his confusion.

"You're probably wondering what we're doing here, huh?" she began, her voice tinged with amusement. "Well, this morning, I got a call from Granny Smith asking where I was. When I told her I stayed over at your place, she got all giddy and, well, jumped to some conclusions."

Spike's eyebrows shot up, even more bewildered by her explanation. "Conclusions? What kind of conclusions?" he asked, his curiosity piqued.

Applejack chuckled, shaking her head at the memory. "Granny Smith just started laughing and going on about how she knew we'd end up together. But then, she got this idea in her head that, well, that I might be expecting." She rolled her eyes, clearly finding the whole situation more amusing than anything else.

Spike's eyes widened in realization. "Expecting? But why would she—"

Before he could finish, Applejack held up her hand. "I know, I know. It's ridiculous. I told her there's no way that's happening. I'm on birth control, for Pete's sake. But you know Granny Smith; once she gets an idea in her head, there's no talking her out of it. She insisted I come to the OBGYN clinic just to be sure, to 'humor an old lady's intuition,' as she put it."

The conversation they had with Granny Smith over the phone earlier that morning replayed in Applejack's mind. Despite her attempts to reassure her grandmother that her concerns were unfounded, Granny Smith's laughter and teasing were relentless. "Just you wait, my dear. You never know with these things. Best to check and give this old heart some peace," Granny Smith had said, her voice full of mirth and a hint of mischief.

Spike, finally understanding the situation, let out a small laugh, the tension easing from his shoulders. "Well, if it's to give Granny Smith some peace of mind, then I guess it's worth it," he said, offering Applejack a supportive smile. "But, just for the record, I'm with you on this. It's definitely just humoring her intuition."

Applejack nodded, her smile widening. "Exactly. So, let's get this over with and then we can laugh about it later with Granny Smith. Who knows, maybe she'll make us one of her famous apple pies as an apology for dragging us out here so early."

The clinic's waiting room was bustling with the soft murmurs of conversation and the occasional laughter, a community of expectant mothers sharing in the universal journey of pregnancy. Amidst this, Applejack found herself both amused and slightly exasperated at Spike's ability to find peace in the chaos, slumped in his seat, fast asleep.

His serene expression, a stark contrast to the lively environment around them, drew the attention of several others in the waiting area. Whispered comments and suppressed giggles filled the air, causing Applejack to cast protective glances at Spike. It wasn't long before a tinge of jealousy crept in, seeing others admire him so openly.

Determined to reclaim her peace (and perhaps a bit of attention from Spike), Applejack leaned over and gently shook him awake. "Hey, sleepyhead," she whispered, her voice laced with a mix of affection and mischief. "Mind running out to grab me something to snack on? I'm starvin' over here."

Spike, groggily coming to, blinked a few times to clear the sleep from his eyes. "Sure thing, AJ," he responded, a soft smile gracing his lips as he stood and stretched, his movements drawing another round of covert glances from the room. "Any preferences?" he asked, ready to fulfill her request.

"Just somethin' light. Maybe an apple or two?" Applejack suggested, the corners of her mouth turning up in a slight smile at the mention of her favorite fruit.

"Got it. I'll be back before you know it," Spike assured her, his tone warm and reassuring. He made his way out of the clinic, leaving Applejack to navigate the mixed feelings of amusement at the situation and a lingering sense of possessiveness.

As Spike disappeared from view, Applejack couldn't help but let out a small sigh, a mix of contentment and a lingering sense of disbelief at the morning's events. The thought of being at an OBGYN clinic under Granny Smith's misunderstanding was both absurd and endearing. "Only in our family," she mumbled to herself, her gaze drifting back to the line ahead of her.

Spike walked around the emergency area of the hospital, looking for a bending machine, however, when he finally found it, a sign that read "OUT OF ORDER" made him stop in his tracks.

Just then a nurse said, "The only working bending machine is on the 5th floor," Spike looked at the map and saw that it was an intensive care unit, he turned to look at the nurse who told him to take the elevator, it wasn't a big deal.

Spike did as he was told, however, when he got to the 5th floor, and was heading to the bending machine, he felt a chill run down his spine, it wasn't out of fear, but as if he was being called to a particular room. Spike followed the chills, and arrived at a room, he saw the patient's name and his eyes widened "Norman Neuhaus".

It was a massive shock to Spike, Norman was the only person who was ever nice to Spike in high school.

The shock of seeing Norman Neuhaus' name on the patient's door rendered Spike momentarily speechless. The hospital's fifth floor, with its sterile, quiet corridors, suddenly felt oppressively silent. Norman, the only peer who had shown Spike kindness during the tumultuous years of high school, now lay battling for his life just beyond the door.

The doctor, noticing Spike's distress, softened her approach. "Are you a friend of Norman's?" she inquired, her voice carrying a mix of professional detachment and genuine sympathy.

Spike nodded, still struggling to process the news. "Yes, he... he was good to me when not many people were."

Understanding flashed in the doctor's eyes. "I'm sorry you had to find out this way. His condition is quite advanced. We're doing everything we can, but the cancer has spread too far, too fast."

Spike's mind raced. The helplessness of the situation was overwhelming, yet an idea began to form. With his newfound abilities, perhaps there was something he could do. "Can I see him?" he asked, the determination clear in his voice.

The doctor hesitated for a moment, weighing the protocols against the earnest plea in Spike's eyes. Finally, she nodded. "Yes, but please prepare yourself. He may not be fully conscious."

Spike entered Norman's room with trepidation. The sight of Norman, so frail and diminished by his illness, was a stark contrast to the vibrant individual Spike remembered. Tubes and monitors connected to him painted a grim picture of the battle being waged within his body.

"Norman," Spike whispered, taking a seat by the bedside. There was no response, just the steady beep of the heart monitor.

Spike began to wonder what could have caused this to happen.

Just then, he decided to open his cheat console and looked at Norman’s attributes, and there he finally saw it.

“Norman is a Necromancer… not just any necromancer, but Grand Warlock of the Undead… the rarest of the rarest… but his magical points aren’t high enough to control the dark magic, which is eating away at him slowly… wait a minute, he doesn’t have Cancer, he has “Undead Sickness” usually it is curable, but for his rank and magic power… I doubt there is a hospital in the world that has enough magic plasm to give him…” Spike thought

While Spike was deep in thought, he felt someone grab his hand.

When he looked up he saw Norman looking at him weakly

“Sherman… goodness… you’ve grown… and lost a lot of weight,” Norman said weakly

“Norman… I know it’s a stupid question but, how are you feeling?” Spike asked

“Tired… fed up… weak…” Norman said weakly

“What about your parents?” asked Spike

“They won’t be coming… I wasn’t particularly well liked by them…” Norman said

“Because you are a Necromancer?” Spike said

“How did you… yeah… my mother was a Light Mage, and my father hates Necromancers with a passion… but, I can’t be angry… they still loved me enough to where I was comfortable… I mean, they didn’t kick me out until I turned 20…” Norman said with a weak smile

“If they had, they would’ve gone to jail,” said Spike

“I know… but, seeing them treating my sister and brother better, it shows me that they weren’t bad parents… and they did cry and got worried when I told them I was dying,” Norman said

“But they haven’t visited you,” said Spike

“They did at first, however, I told them to stop coming, it was putting my siblings under a lot of stress…” Norman said

“They didn’t think twice about listening to you,” said Spike

“Yeah… but anyway, why should they come here and see someone that is on his last toe… I fought for 2 years against this… drank so many potions and healing waters… it slowed down the cancer… but the pain… it got worse by the day…” Norman said

“That is because it wasn’t cancer, its “Undead Sickness” a normal thing for many Necromancers,” Spike said

“Yeah… that’s what kills us all,” Norman said

“He’s right, necromancers are rare by themselves, Norman is even rarer with Grand Warlock’s being born 1 in 100,000,000… the only way to fix the sickness is through Magic plasma injections… However, he has to do it everyday for the rest of his life, and those aren’t cheap… the other way is to earn enough magic points to obtain the “Undead Monarch” status… which will make him… a Demi-God… and only one person was ever able to achieve this… the Demon Lord Gabriel de Arrizabal… over 1500 years ago,” Spike thought

“It’s a lot to take in… I know… but hopefully, in my next life, I will be blessed with good fortune,” Norman said

“So, you don’t have any regrets?” asked Spike

“I have millions… but… I have no time… I’ll just hope… in my next life… I can prosper…” Norman said as he fell asleep again.

Spike looked at him, and then at the cheat console, he headed over to the attribute section and saw that the skill that Norman needed was available, however, when he clicked on it, a message popped up.

“You do not possess, enough magic points to unlock this skill for Norman Neuhaus,” it said

Spike then saw that at the bottom of the screen there was the option, “get more points”

He quickly clicked it and a message appeared “To earn enough points, you must trade 5 years of your life,”

Spike was about to click the accept option, when a message from God appeared “Are you sure?” he asked

“He was the only person to ever have my back when no one else did, besides, I wasn’t planning on living that long anyway, what are five years in this case,” Spike said as he clicked accept.

Immediately, a blinding light surrounded both of them, and after a few seconds, Spike felt a terrible pain in his chest.

After a few seconds, the light disappeared, and Spike recovered, he quickly used his cheat console and saw that Norman was completely healed and possessed the title of “Undead Monarch”.

Spike smiled happily, before he felt his stomach turn, he quickly got up and headed over to the bathroom as he threw up blood, followed by some bloody coughs, but they quickly went away.

Spike sat down to catch his breath, then he wiped away the blood around his mouth and washed his hands, flushing the toilet as he left the bathroom, giving Norman’s sleeping form one last look and leaving to get Applejack’s snacks.

When Spike finally got back to the OBGYN clinic, Applejack was coming out of the office, her face a bit red, which made Spike worry.

He rushed over to her, but to his surprise, she quickly went over and grabbed one of the apple crisps that Spike had bought, and gobbled it down in seconds;

Spike was take aback, however, Applejack the told him “Just like I told ya, I ain’t pregnant… whoever, the doctor said that… if I stopped using birth control… my chances of getting pregnant were… 100%”.

Spike's concern melted into amusement as he watched Applejack demolish the apple crisp he had managed to scavenge for her. Her voracious appetite, juxtaposed with her blush-tinged cheeks, painted a picture far removed from the tension and unease that had settled between them at the entrance of the OBGYN clinic.

"Ah, I see," Spike managed, his voice laced with a mix of surprise and intrigue at Applejack's revelation about her fertility. The idea of starting a family, of taking such a significant step forward in their relationship, sent a thrill of excitement—and a dash of nervousness—through him. "Start trying for real, huh?" he echoed, his voice a notch higher than usual, betraying his flustered state.

Applejack, noticing Spike's reddened cheeks, couldn't help but chuckle. "Yeah, I reckon it'd be a good idea, wouldn't it? Granny Smith's already on board with the idea, if you hadn't guessed." Her playful tone and the glint in her eye softened the weight of the conversation, making it feel more like an adventurous proposal than a daunting life decision.

Spike took a deep breath, his initial shock giving way to a more thoughtful consideration. "Well, if we're both on the same page... I guess it's something we can seriously talk about. But, uh, let's make sure we're ready for everything that comes with it, yeah?" His voice steadied as he spoke, reflecting his commitment to their future together.

The mention of Applejack's stomach grumbling at the clinic brought another laugh to Spike's lips. "Sounds like someone was more than a little peckish," he teased, offering her another apple crisp from the stash he had managed to buy.

Applejack accepted the treat with a sheepish grin. "You know me, always hungry after a bit of stress. But hey, at least we got a clear bill of health, and... well, a green light for future endeavors," she said, her tone playful yet sincere.

Their conversation meandered from lighthearted teasing to more serious discussions about their future, about what it meant to start a family, and how they would navigate the challenges and joys that would come with it. As they walked away from the clinic, their steps in sync, there was a sense of unity and purpose between them.

Walking through the mall, Spike found himself being enthusiastically guided into a baby store by Applejack, whose excitement was palpable. The air was filled with the gentle scents of new cotton and the colorful sights of baby apparel and toys. Each aisle they ventured down seemed to spark endless possibilities and dreams for their future family.

Applejack picked up a tiny pair of cowboy boots, holding them up with a grin. "Aren't these just the cutest? Our little one's gonna be the best-dressed baby in Equestria," she declared, her eyes shining with joy and anticipation.

Spike couldn't help but smile at her enthusiasm, although the reality of their conversation outside the clinic was slowly starting to sink in. "Yeah, they're adorable," he agreed, taking the boots and examining them. "I can already picture it."

As they moved from clothes to toys, Spike found himself drawn to a set of plush dragons. He picked one up, its scales soft under his fingers. "What about this? Think our kid would like dragons?" he asked, half-teasing, half-serious.

Applejack laughed, nudging him playfully. "Only if they take after their dad," she retorted. They continued to meander through the store, each item sparking a new conversation about their hopes and fears for parenthood.

It was a surreal experience for Spike. Never in his wildest dreams had he imagined discussing baby clothes and toys as potential future parents. Yet, here he was, caught up in the excitement and the overwhelming sense of what their future could hold.

Walking through the mall, Spike found himself being enthusiastically guided into a baby store by Applejack, whose excitement was palpable. The air was filled with the gentle scents of new cotton and the colorful sights of baby apparel and toys. Each aisle they ventured down seemed to spark endless possibilities and dreams for their future family.

Applejack picked up a tiny pair of cowboy boots, holding them up with a grin. "Aren't these just the cutest? Our little one's gonna be the best-dressed baby in Equestria," she declared, her eyes shining with joy and anticipation.

Spike couldn't help but smile at her enthusiasm, although the reality of their conversation outside the clinic was slowly starting to sink in. "Yeah, they're adorable," he agreed, taking the boots and examining them. "I can already picture it."

As they moved from clothes to toys, Spike found himself drawn to a set of plush dragons. He picked one up, its scales soft under his fingers. "What about this? Think our kid would like dragons?" he asked, half-teasing, half-serious.

Applejack laughed, nudging him playfully. "Only if they take after their dad," she retorted. They continued to meander through the store, each item sparking a new conversation about their hopes and fears for parenthood.

It was a surreal experience for Spike. Never in his wildest dreams had he imagined discussing baby clothes and toys as potential future parents. Yet, here he was, caught up in the excitement and the overwhelming sense of what their future could hold.

Their banter was abruptly cut short when Fluttershy appeared before them outside the store, breathless from running. "Applejack, Rarity's in trouble," she gasped out, her concern evident.

The mood shifted instantly, the weight of reality crashing back down on them. Spike and Applejack exchanged worried glances, their thoughts immediately turning to their friend's safety.

Upon spotting Spike and Applejack emerging from the baby store, their hands interlocked, a noticeable change washed over Fluttershy's expression. Initially rushed and flustered with worry over Rarity's situation, her demeanor shifted as her eyes lingered on the couple's clasped hands, then darted to the store behind them, piecing together the scene before her.

"Applejack, what... what does this mean?" Fluttershy asked, her voice carrying a hint of jealousy mingled with confusion. The usual softness was tinged with an unusual edge, a subtle possessiveness that one might miss if not paying close attention. "Are you two... planning for a future together? Like, a family?"

Applejack, taken aback by Fluttershy's sudden change in tone, squeezed Spike's hand reassuringly before addressing her friend. "Well, yes, Fluttershy, we've been talkin' 'bout it some, it is also the next natural step for us, since we’re getting married next month" she responded with a gentle smile, trying to ease the tension. "But that doesn't change nothin' between us friends. What's goin' on with Rarity?"

Fluttershy, momentarily caught in the whirlwind of her feelings, took a deep breath, trying to realign her priorities. "Oh, right, Rarity," she hastily added, pushing her personal feelings aside. "She's gotten herself into a bit of a pickle with a design order, and she went to some cavern to collect some diamonds and crystals for the accessories of the order and… it seems she was kidnapped,”

“WHAT?!” Applejack exclaimed

“Wait, when you said Rarity, please tell me you are not talking about Rachel Belle White!” Spike said

Fluttershy nodded in agreement.

“The same Rachel Belle that got in so much trouble in school for going into mines to look for diamonds… ALONE!” Spike said

Fluttershy nodded again

“You, for some reason this doesn’t surprise me,” Spike said

“Surprising or not, we have to go help her!” Applejack said

“I’ll go get my equipment Spike said as he walked over to the open air rotunda in the mall

“Here, we will meet here, at the entrance to the Evergreen forest on the north-east side of the city, close to the mountain range!” Applejack said as she gave Spike a quick kiss.

“Understood," he said as he extended his wings and jumped into the sky, disappearing into the clouds within seconds.

“Come on, let’s go!” Applejack said as she ran out of the mall as fast as she could with Fluttershy in tow.

However, Fluttershy was more interested in Applejack’s and HER Spike’s future, especially after she mentioned that they were getting married.