The word fell like the hammer of the Gods, crushing Spike and Rarity completely. Dead. Scootaloo was dead. The word ran through Spike's head more times than he could count, each second ticking by like a thousand sunrises, still unable to comprehend the possibility. His lungs nearly stopped working from the shock, his eyes began to hurt from nearly popping out of his head, his mouth dried until he could swear he was breathing in sand.