God's Ultimate Cheat Console

Two months had passed like a blur of monotonous routine for Spike. Each day melted into the next with an unrelenting schedule that felt both suffocating and numbing. Rehab, rest, university lectures via remote attendance, and then more rest. The sameness of it all was beginning to gnaw at him, a creeping dissatisfaction that grew with each passing day.

One afternoon, as Spike sat on the balcony of his penthouse, staring out at the cityscape that seemed to pulse with life and energy he could no longer participate in, Applejack joined him, carrying two cups of coffee. She handed one to him and took a seat beside him, her eyes full of concern.

"You've been quiet today, more than usual. Everything alright?" Applejack asked, her voice tinged with worry.

Spike sighed, taking a sip of the coffee before responding. "I'm just... tired, AJ. Tired of sitting around, tired of being so dependent on everyone for everything. I appreciate all you and the others have been doing for me, really, I do. But I hate feeling like a burden."

Applejack put her coffee down and took his hand. "Spike, you're not a burden, not to any of us. Healing takes time, and it's okay to need help. We're your family; we're here for you."

"I know, I know... it's just frustrating. I used to be able to do so much more. Now, getting through a day without needing help feels like a distant dream," Spike confessed, the edges of his frustration coloring his tone.

Applejack squeezed his hand gently. "I understand that, but you've got to give yourself grace, Spike. You've been through a lot. The doctors said your recovery would be a long road. You're making progress, even if it doesn't feel fast enough."

Spike looked over at her, her earnest expression softening his own. "Thanks, AJ. I just wish there was more I could do to speed things up."

"Well, the doc did say that keeping your mind active and engaged could help, right? Maybe it’s time we find something you can do from here, something that feels productive. Have you thought about taking up a new hobby or maybe expanding on your music? You could even start planning out new adventures for when you’re back on your feet," Applejack suggested, her voice bright with encouragement.

Spike considered her words, the idea slowly bringing a small smile to his face. "Yeah, maybe you're right. I could start working on some new tracks or even look into remote consulting for some of the younger adventurers at the guild. It’s not fieldwork, but it’s something."

"There you go!" Applejack cheered, her smile infectious. "And who knows, you might discover something you really love doing along the way."

"Yeah," Spike agreed, feeling a spark of optimism for the first time in weeks. "Thanks, AJ. For everything."

"Anytime, Spike. Anytime," she replied, giving his hand another reassuring squeeze.

As they sat together, the sun beginning to set and casting a warm glow over the city, Spike felt a renewed sense of purpose.

As Spike and Applejack were winding down their conversation, Fluttershy's voice floated out from the kitchen, calling them to dinner. Spike couldn't help but note the change in her demeanor these past weeks. Gone was the tremulous voice and hesitant steps, replaced now by a steady, almost motherly tone. It was a transformation that Spike found both remarkable and heartening.

"Come on, you two, dinner's ready!" Fluttershy announced, her voice carrying a cheerful tune that resonated warmly throughout the penthouse.

As they made their way to the dining table, Applejack couldn't resist teasing Fluttershy a little. "I gotta say, Shy, you've taken to this house matriarch role like a duck to water. What happened to our little nervous Nelly?"

Fluttershy, placing dishes on the table, shot back with a playful smirk, "Well, someone's gotta keep you all fed and happy, especially since some folks' cooking skills don't go much past apple pies and cider." She winked at Applejack, who laughed and raised her hands in mock surrender.

"Guilty as charged," Applejack conceded, grinning as they all took their seats at the table.

Over dinner, Spike decided to bring up his own plans, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness about the conversation. "So, I've been thinking a lot about what I can do while I’m still on the mend. I’ll talk to the guildmaster at Silver Moon, and I’ll suggest I could start working as an instructor or consultant, you know, helping to train the newer adventurers from a strategic standpoint."

Fluttershy paused, her fork halfway to her mouth, her expression shifting to one of concern. "Spike, that sounds wonderful, but are you sure you’re ready for something like that? I mean, your recovery is still ongoing, and I don’t want you to push yourself too hard."

Spike nodded, understanding her worry. "I know, Fluttershy, and I appreciate your concern. It's all going to be pretty low-key, though. Mostly desk work, maybe some light field supervision. Nothing that'll strain me physically."

Fluttershy seemed somewhat reassured but still a bit apprehensive. "Well, if you think it’s not too much, then I support you. I just want you to be happy, Spike, and healthy too."

"Thanks, Fluttershy. That means a lot to me. And trust me, I’m not about to do anything that might set me back. I’ve got too much riding on this recovery, especially with the wedding coming up and all," Spike said, shooting a smile towards Applejack, who nodded emphatically.

"Yeah, and don’t you forget, you're not just planning for any wedding. It's gonna be the wedding of the century if Granny Smith has her say," Applejack added with a chuckle, lightening the mood.

The conversation drifted then to lighter topics, the trio chatting and laughing as they finished their dinner. It was these moments, Spike reflected, that made the slow recovery bearable. The support and love of Applejack and Fluttershy, their teasing, their care—it was more healing than any medicine or therapy.

THE NEXT MORNING AT THE SILVER MOON GUILD

Spike leaned heavily on his cane as he and Sunset Shimmer entered the grand hall of the Silver Moon Guild. He paused at the entrance, taking a moment to catch his breath and appreciate Sunset's support. "Thanks for the ride, Sunset. I really appreciate it," he said with a genuine smile.

Sunset Shimmer, her cheeks tinged with a slight blush, waved off his thanks. "It's no big deal, Spike. I wanted to see how you'd handle your first day back anyway," she replied, her tone trying to sound casual but failing to hide her concern.

As they approached the Guild Master's office, Spike straightened up, preparing himself for the conversation ahead. He knocked on the door, and they were soon greeted by the Guild Master, a stern-looking man with a gaze that seemed to weigh Spike’s condition from the moment he entered.

"Guild Master, I've been thinking about my role here while I recover, and I think it would be best for me to become an instructor for the next generation members," Spike began, laying out his plan to supervise training sessions from the sidelines.

“WHAT?!!!” the guild master said as he spit out his coffee

“Is it that bad of an idea?” Sunset Shimmer said confused

The Guild Master's face clouded with concern. "Spike, you're still recovering from a severe case of Black Miasma poisoning. It’s not just about physical exertion; your presence in the training arena could still be risky. You need to focus on your recovery."

Spike nodded, expecting this resistance, but he was prepared to reassure him. "I understand the risks, but I won’t be engaging directly. I'll be there more as a strategic advisor, ensuring everything runs smoothly and safely."

Before the Guild Master could respond, a powerful, authoritative voice filled the room. "What seems to be the problem here?" They all turned to see Princess Luna stride into the room, her presence commanding immediate respect.

The Guild Master instantly dropped to one knee, bowing his head. "Welcome, Grand Master," he intoned with deep reverence.

Sunset Shimmer looked between Spike and the kneeling Guild Master, her confusion evident. Spike leaned closer and whispered, "Princess Luna founded this guild. She’s not just royalty; she’s respected here as the Grand Master of Silver Moon."

Princess Luna smiled, acknowledging Spike's explanation. "Indeed, this guild was founded with a specific focus on nurturing Dungeon Crawlers, capable of tackling the most challenging environments," she elaborated, her voice resonating with a passion for adventure and discovery.

Turning to the Guild Master, she continued, "If Spike believes he can contribute without jeopardizing his health, I think we should support him. The guild thrives on the strength and wisdom of all its members, not just those who can wield a sword."

The Guild Master stood slowly, still unsure but not willing to argue with Luna. "If that is your wish, Grand Master."

Sunset watched the exchange, her admiration for Spike's resilience mingling with her concern. She found herself stepping a little closer to him, her actions protective yet subtle.

"Thank you, Princess Luna," Spike said, relief evident in his voice. He turned to Sunset with a grateful smile. "Looks like I’m back, at least in some capacity."

Sunset nodded, her expression softening. "Just don’t overdo it, okay? We need you in one piece," she said, the concern clear in her voice despite her attempt to sound teasing.

As Princess Luna discussed some new strategies with the Guild Master, Spike and Sunset Shimmer made their way to the observation deck of the training arena, ready to start a new chapter in Spike's path to recovery.

Spike limped down the stairs toward the arena gates, his cane echoing against the stone with each step. Gathering his resolve, he pushed open the massive doors with a theatrical flourish, rehearsing his planned introduction in his mind. Stepping into the arena, he announced himself with confidence.

"Good morning, future Dungeon Crawlers of Silver Moon! I'm Spike, your guide and mentor on this challenging journey!"

The arena, however, was eerily silent. No eager faces turned towards him, no murmurs of anticipation—just the empty echo of his own voice. Confused, Spike scanned the room until his eyes landed on Wyatt, the retired Dungeon Crawler now serving as the guild’s custodian, who was chuckling as he repaired one of the bleachers.

"Nice intro, kid," Wyatt called out, amusement clear in his voice. "However, I recommend you get some whippersnappers to use it on."

Spike rubbed the back of his neck, embarrassed. "Sorry, Wyatt," he muttered.

Wyatt waved off the apology with a smile. "No harm done. Just the wrong timing, I suppose."

As Spike mulled over the empty arena, Princess Luna and Sunset Shimmer approached from the entrance. Luna’s presence always brought a certain gravitas, and her next words explained the situation further. "This is why I wasn’t so worried about Spike’s new role," she said, observing the empty stands. "Unlike the Royal Guild, which swarms with new members, our Silver Moon Guild prides itself on exclusivity. We have just over a hundred members, and that’s by design."

Sunset Shimmer looked around, her expression one of realization. Luna continued, "Our focus is on Dungeon crawling, a far more demanding and dangerous field than the typical land adventures most guilds pursue. Hence, we don’t attract the masses, and those who do show interest often opt for the more glamorous Royal Guild or the affluent Kingsheart, assuming they can afford the latter."

With a nod of understanding to Spike and a final wish of good luck, Luna excused herself, leaving the arena with her usual composed stride.

Feeling slightly deflated but determined not to show it, Spike turned to Sunset, who offered him a sympathetic smile. "Let’s check in with Marion at reception. Maybe there’s a delay in today’s schedule," she suggested.

Together, they walked back to the guild’s bustling front desk where Marion was busy organizing paperwork. Upon seeing them, she brightened, though her expression turned apologetic as she addressed Spike’s question about new applications.

"Ah, Spike, it’s been quiet on that front. Not a single application since you last checked," she said, shuffling through her papers to confirm. "Well, our reputation as the 'Toughest Guild to get into' precedes us."

Spike sighed, the reality of the situation settling in. He thanked Marion and turned back to Sunset, a thoughtful frown knitting his brows. "Looks like it’s going to be a slow start, but we’ll make the most of it. Maybe it’s time to rethink our recruitment strategy, make it more... appealing, without compromising our standards."

Sunset nodded in agreement. "I think that’s a great idea. Let’s brainstorm some strategies. Perhaps we can hold some open seminars or workshops to draw interest."

A month of effort at revitalizing the Silver Moon Guild through seminars and combat classes had yielded minimal results for Spike. Despite his enthusiasm and dedication, the turnout was dishearteningly low, with most attendees drifting off to the more glamorous Royal Guild after taking advantage of the free classes. So far, his recruitment efforts had managed to bring in only two new guild members: Norman, who had joined more out of friendship and moral support than a genuine interest in dungeon crawling, and Joe, a brawny but exceedingly clumsy friend of Big Mac's from the farm. The Guild Master had allowed Joe's membership primarily because of Spike's confident promise to transform him into a top ranker.

Feeling his morale dip as the reality of the challenge set in, Spike found himself frequently ruminating on the lackluster response. Norman noticed Spike's growing despondency and decided it was time to intervene. Gathering Microchips, Cheese Sandwich, Flash, and Sunset Shimmer, he initiated a brainstorming session in the guild hall, aiming to concoct a plan that might ignite more interest in the guild.

The group threw around various ideas, ranging from advertising campaigns to partnership deals with local businesses, but nothing seemed to stick. Frustration was beginning to mount when Norman’s gaze drifted across the room to the music studio. An idea sparked in his mind.

“Spike, why not use your music? You could write some songs to inspire people about dungeon crawling. Music’s got a way of reaching people that words sometimes can’t,” Norman suggested, his voice filled with a cautious optimism.

Spike mulled over the idea, his interest piqued yet uncertain. “I like the sound of that, but what would I even sing about? How do you put the life of a dungeon crawler into a song that grabs people?”

Flash chimed in, leaning forward with a look of inspiration. “Why not draw from your own experiences? You’ve been through more dungeons than most of us can claim, and each one tells a story. Those stories could show the adventure and danger, the thrill of discovery. That’s what people get excited about, right?”

Sunset Shimmer nodded in agreement. “It’s true. The Royal Guild has commissioned artists before to create anthems that glamorize their adventures. It’s a big hit. Maybe your personal touch, your genuine experiences, could offer something more authentic that people will really resonate with.”

The idea seemed to resonate with everyone in the room, and the energy shifted from frustration to a buzz of creative potential. Spike felt a surge of motivation as he considered the possibility of merging his musical talents with his dungeon crawling experiences.

“Maybe you’re onto something,” Spike admitted, warming up to the idea. “Songs that capture the real essence of what we do—unlike those glossy anthems from the Royal Guild. It could be about the gritty reality, the comradeship, the risks, and the victories. Real stories that could make real connections.”

Encouraged by the support of his friends and the new creative avenue, Spike glanced towards his studio, a renewed spark of purpose lighting his eyes. The idea of using his music to champion the guild’s cause, to draw new members and share the true spirit of dungeon crawling, offered a new challenge, and perhaps, a new hope.

“Let’s give it a shot,” he declared, his voice steady with newfound determination. As his friends voiced their agreement and encouragement, Spike walked towards his studio, his mind already racing with lyrics and melodies that might just turn the tide for the Silver Moon Guild.

With that hopeful note, the group dispersed, leaving Spike to his devices, the studio door closing behind him with a soft click, sealing him in with his thoughts and the blank slate of creation spread out before him.

ONE MONTH LATER

Spike settled into the well-worn leather chair opposite the Guild Master’s imposing desk, his face a mix of anticipation and unease. The office was quiet, save for the ticking of the ancient clock that adorned the wall, a reminder of the passing time and the slow, sometimes painful, progression of recovery.

“Spike, I’m truly pleased to see you’ve fully recovered physically,” the Guild Master began, his voice deep and encouraging. “However, as per the protocol of our guild, I can’t clear you for dungeon crawling just yet. You need to prove that your skills and reaction times are back to what they were. But,” he added, seeing a flicker of disappointment cross Spike’s face, “I’m authorizing you to take on normal quests. It’s a good way to ease back into the field.”

Spike nodded, understanding the prudence behind the decision, though he couldn’t mask a slight frown. “I appreciate that, sir. And about the training—I still think it’s worth pursuing. We might not have many takers now, but it’s about building a foundation, isn't it? For the future?”

The Guild Master sighed, leaning back in his chair with a thoughtful expression. “Spike, I admire your persistence. Truly, I do. But our resources are limited, and without a steady influx of new members, focusing on such an expansive training program might not be the best use of our resources.”

Before Spike could respond, he turned on the TV with the remote from his desk, intending to lighten the mood with some distraction. However, what came on the screen was anything but a distraction. The news anchor was enthusiastically discussing the music phenomenon that was Wyrm Sovereign, the mysterious band that had recently released three new songs: "Calcutta," "Nazareth," and "Jericho."

"These new tracks from Wyrm Sovereign have captured the imagination of the public," the anchor was saying. "Each song draws inspiration from the notoriously dangerous dungeons known by the same names, dungeons that have been the settings of incredible tales of adventure and survival."

The screen flashed to scenes of fans discussing the songs, with many speculating about the identities of the band members, whose anonymity only added to the allure.

“See, this is what I’m talking about,” Spike pointed at the screen, his voice filled with a mix of excitement and vindication. “These songs, my songs, they’re creating interest in the very essence of dungeon crawling. It’s storytelling, it’s inspiring. It could drive interest towards the Silver Moon Guild.”

The Guild Master watched the screen for a moment, then turned back to Spike, his eyes showing a hint of admiration. “You have a point, Spike. Perhaps there’s merit in your approach after all. Let’s give it another month. Continue with the training program, and let’s see if this surge in interest translates into recruitment.”

Spike’s eyes lit up with renewed determination. “Thank you, sir. I won’t let you down.”

As the Guild Master nodded, Spike stood up, ready to leave the office and get back to work. Just before he stepped out, the Guild Master added, “And Spike? Be careful with those normal quests. They may not be dungeon crawls, but they’re not without their risks.”

“Understood,” Spike replied, a smile playing on his lips. He had a lot to do, and for the first time in many months, he felt fully ready to take on the world again.

Spike stepped briskly down the corridor from the Guild Master's office, his spirits lifted by the permission to start taking on quests again. As he approached the main hall, he spotted Norman leaning against a wall, looking slightly apprehensive.

“Hey, Norman, how’s it going?” Spike greeted him with a small wave.

Norman straightened up, a look of curiosity on his face. “Got the green light, huh? But not for the deep dives yet?”

“Yeah, just the surface stuff for now. But it's a start,” Spike replied, his tone mixed with resignation and excitement.

Norman’s brow furrowed slightly as he accompanied Spike towards the Arena. “I’ve been meaning to ask you about those songs you released. Aren’t you worried about exposing too much... you know, personal stuff and all?”

Spike shrugged, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. “At first, maybe. But honestly, I’ve made peace with it. Those songs are part of my journey, you know? And thanks for the nudge to get them out there.”

They reached the Arena, and as they entered, a burst of youthful energy met them. Six eager young hopefuls were gathered around, chatting animatedly.

“Applebloom?” Spike’s voice was tinged with surprise as he recognized his soon-to-be sister-in-law, who sprinted over with a beaming smile.

“Hi, Spike!” Applebloom chirped, followed closely by her friends—Sweetie Belle, Scootaloo, Rumble, Button Mash, and a surprisingly energetic Pipsqueak. Each one introduced themselves with genuine excitement.

“Hi, my name is Susan Belle White, but you can call Sweetie Belle… thanks for saving my sister,”

“Name’s Skylar Lowell, call me Scootaloo,”

“Robert Humbolt, everyone calls me Rumble,”

“Brandon Barrett, Button Mash is my nickname,”

“Peter Quinn,”

“Pipsqueak,” said Spike

“Don’t call me that, please!” Pipsqueak said

“Then grow a couple of inches,” Spike said earning a laugh from everyone, even Pipsqueak

Spike, still a bit taken aback, turned to Norman, “Did you know about this?”

Norman shook his head, grinning. “News to me, too. Seems you’ve inspired a whole new generation.”

As the young hopefuls gathered around, Spike pulled out his phone to call Applejack. The conversation was quick but filled with confused exchanges from both ends. “Applejack, did you know about this?”

Applejack’s voice was equally puzzled. “Not a clue, Spike. I’m on my way.”

Minutes later, Applejack burst through the doors of the Arena, her expression a mix of concern and curiosity. Apple Bloom stepped forward confidently, her friends rallying behind her.

“Dad said it’s okay, and Granny Smith too. She said, ‘If Spike’s there, then we have nothing to fear.’” Apple Bloom’s declaration brought a warm smile to Spike’s face, even as he glanced over at Applejack, who seemed to be processing the information.

“Well, if Granny Smith says it’s okay…” Applejack finally conceded, though her tone suggested she would have a long talk with Granny later.

Turning back to the group, Spike clapped his hands together, energized by the turn of events. “Alright, if you all are serious about this, we start first thing tomorrow morning. Get ready to train hard and learn fast. Welcome to Silver Moon Guild!”

The cheers that erupted filled the room with laughter and chatter about the future. As the group dispersed to prepare for the next day, Norman leaned over to Spike.

“Looks like your training program’s going to be a lot busier than we thought,” he joked, patting Spike on the back.

Spike laughed, the weight of his earlier concerns momentarily lifted by the enthusiasm and trust these young adventurers showed.

Spike stood in the center of the Silver Moon Guild's training arena, surrounded by the six eager young hopefuls. The morning light spilled through the large windows, casting long shadows across the mats and equipment scattered around the room. Spike clapped his hands together to grab everyone's attention.

"Alright, everyone, gather around," Spike called out, his voice carrying a note of excitement. The group quickly huddled around him, their faces a mix of enthusiasm and nerves.

"First off, welcome to Silver Moon Guild," Spike began, his gaze sweeping over the faces of Apple Bloom, Sweetie Belle, Scootaloo, Rumble, Button Mash, and Pipsqueak. "Training here isn't going to be easy. It’s designed to push you to your limits and beyond. But I promise you, it’ll be worth it."

He led them over to a series of ropes and bars set up for agility training. "We'll start with the basics—agility and strength. This here is the obstacle course, designed to improve your reflexes and physical coordination. You’ll be climbing, jumping, and swinging. It's tough, but it'll help build the quick thinking you need in a dungeon."

One by one, the hopefuls took on the course. Apple Bloom and Scootaloo showed natural athleticism, swinging and jumping with a kind of rough grace. Sweetie Belle was more cautious but precise, taking her time to understand each step before moving. Rumble and Button Mash, while a bit clumsy, pushed through with determination, and Pipsqueak, despite being the smallest, displayed a surprising amount of resilience.

After the obstacle course, Spike introduced them to combat training. "Next up, we've got combat drills. This isn't just about swinging a sword or casting a spell; it's about understanding your opponent, anticipating their moves, and reacting under pressure."

Spike demonstrated a series of basic combat moves, breaking them down into steps. He paired up the trainees, supervising as they practiced. The sound of wooden swords clacking and occasional bursts of laughter filled the air.

"As you train," Spike continued, "you'll learn not just about fighting, but about trust—trusting your gear, your skills, and most importantly, each other."

As noon approached, Spike brought out a set of weighted vests. "These are for strength and endurance training. You’ll wear these for the next part of our session—ladder drills and sprints. It’ll help build your stamina, which is essential for long dungeon crawls."

The group groaned slightly at the sight of the vests but donned them with determination. Spike led them through a series of sprints and ladder drills, encouraging them as they worked through the exhaustion.

"Push through it! You're doing great!" Spike cheered, pacing alongside them as they ran. Despite his own injuries and ongoing recovery, he moved with a careful energy, always keeping an eye on his trainees.

By the end of the session, the group was visibly tired but buzzing with adrenaline. Spike gathered them again for a cool-down routine, focusing on stretching and mindfulness.

"Remember, recovery is just as important as the training itself," he instructed. "Take these moments to breathe and reflect on what you've learned today."

As they stretched, Spike walked among them, offering adjustments and words of encouragement. His phone buzzed with a reminder for his next appointment, but he was too engrossed in his role as a trainer to notice.

Finally, as the session concluded, Spike looked over his new recruits, a proud smile tugging at his lips. "Great work today, everyone. I'll see you all tomorrow, same time. Rest up, and be ready to go again. You're on the path to becoming true adventurers."

The hopefuls dispersed, chattering excitedly about the day’s challenges and their progress. Spike watched them go, a sense of fulfillment warming him despite the aches of his own body.

As the evening shadows lengthened across the training arena floor, Spike and Applejack worked together to stow away the last of the equipment. They moved with an easy rhythm, comfortable in each other’s company after the long day of training.

"So, what do you think of our new recruits?" Spike asked, securing a stack of mats against the wall.

Applejack wiped a bead of sweat from her brow, her face lighting up with pride. "I think they’re a promising bunch. Apple Bloom’s really taking to this, and her friends are catchin’ up quick too. You’re doing a great job with them, Spike."

"Thanks, AJ. It's good to be back doing something productive, even if it's not full dungeon crawling. I just hope I can give them what they need to succeed," Spike replied, glancing around the now tidy arena.

Just as they were about to leave, the sound of the door creaking open echoed through the quiet room. They turned to see a young girl, no older than Apple Bloom, entering the arena. She was dressed in finely tailored clothes and wore a diamond tiara that glittered even in the dim light of the arena.

Spike and Applejack exchanged a puzzled look before approaching the girl. "Hello there, can we help you?" Spike asked, his tone friendly yet cautious.

The girl stopped a few feet away from them, her eyes locked on Spike. "Are you the adventurer everyone talks about? The one who’s been through the dungeons they sing songs about?" Her voice was soft but carried an underlying tension.

"Yes, I am. And who might you be?" Spike replied, trying to place her face.

"My name is Diamond Tiara. I... I have a request," she said, her eyes flickering with a mix of fear and determination. She took a deep breath before continuing, "Please… help me... kill my father."

The request hung in the air, heavy and shocking. Applejack’s jaw dropped, and she stepped forward, placing a protective arm around Spike. "Now, hold on just a minute, young lady. That’s no small thing you’re askin’. Why in Equestria would you say somethin’ like that?"

Diamond Tiara’s hands clenched at her sides. "I know it sounds terrible, but you don’t understand. My father, he’s... he’s a monster. Not literally, but what he’s planning, what he’s doing—it will hurt a lot of people. I’ve tried everything else, and nobody believes me because of his power and influence."

Spike exchanged a look with Applejack, his expression serious. "We’re not assassins, Diamond. But if there’s something dangerous going on, maybe there’s another way we can help, without resorting to... that."

Applejack nodded in agreement. "We need to hear the whole story before we jump to any conclusions. Why don’t you start from the beginning, and let’s see if there’s a way to handle this without doing something you might regret."

Diamond Tiara looked between them, the fight visibly draining from her as relief slowly replaced it. "Thank you," she whispered, finally allowing herself to be guided to a bench where she could sit and share her story.