Maybe it started when Twilight stumbled on another one of her grand explanations, raising so many questions she for once held no answers, maybe withheld. Or perhaps how Rarity cut to the chase and let him know it wasn't happening. But probably when the Guard came a-knockin', looking for himself and his self alone. Maybe maybe maybe… Whatever it was, it doesn't matter now. Spike moved past youthful fury and what had been its seemingly bottomless font of vindication, now he’s in the big leagues and only wishes he had the problems of yesterday.

A single, thickly scaled claw of a digit fell upon the button, the voice recorder hummed to life, a crystal gleaming as its red light blinked to its own beat. Spike let out a sigh before he began, "I never meant for things to end up like this… but if I'm being honest with myself, l never planned anything, never stopped to think. I'd like to blame it on being a dragon, but I'm not even that, just some carnival trick. I might as well be honest with you too, whoever you are. I don't know how this story's gonna end, but that's fine by me 'cause I write my story how I want, maybe this one never ends..." A few moments of silence were followed by a chair loudly scraping, falling over, and then all at once the sound of activity exploded back into the room. This was the atmosphere heard until its power went out.

Any hope left after the blast was wishful thinking.
A sweet, comforting lie.
It was more than most had these days though, more than he deserved if Willow was honest with himself.
But he could use the comfort, a lie would make it easier.

They know what he is, everyone the world over knows of humankind, they are prepared and expectant, for the worst and the best. Their histories tell a story he doesn’t want to hear, things of his own world, much of his own history as fables, and a human influence on all things from the lowest to the high, but he has no clue what any of this is, what it means.

The expectations of a world, the suspicions of its people, and the fear of change in so many minds.

It’s a world all too ready for him, and one he never wanted to see. The world embraces a reluctant stranger with open arms, though its hold is at times… possessive.