The lunch hall was nearly empty now, the majority of students ushered out, leaving behind the inner circle—Teams RWBY (sans Ruby because she went to patch for something...), JNPR, CFVY, SSSN, and the professors.

The dead screen sat in the same place. No glow. No hum. Just blank.

Yang stood stiff. Blake lingered at her side, and Weiss was pacing. Sun leaned against a pillar, arms crossed, while Velvet nervously fiddled with her scroll.

Then it happened again.

Flicker.

Blake's eyes darted to the screen. "It's back!"

The hum returned, low but present.

Professor Goodwitch stepped forward. "Everyone stay alert—"

Flicker.

Buzz.

The screen snapped to life.

But it wasn't white static. It wasn't ominous.

It was… colorful.

Blake blinked. "Wait. Is that… a checkered tablecloth?"

There it was—an old-fashioned Italian restaurant, the kind you'd expect to find tucked away in a quiet corner of Mistral. Red curtains, candles in wine bottles, paintings of rolling hills and vineyards. An accordion played in the background, though no musician was visible.

And then she appeared.

Ruby Rose.

With a curled mustache plastered to her upper lip and a ridiculous red bowtie. She wore a frilly apron over her usual outfit and held a notepad in one hand, the other on her hip.

She walked—no, sauntered—to a couple seated at a table.

"Buonasera!" she said, in the most exaggerated Italian accent imaginable. "Welcome-a to Casa di Crescent Rose! What-a can I get-a for you?"

A hush fell over the room at Beacon.

Yang's jaw dropped. "What the—?"

The couple on-screen glanced at one another. The man, clearly a tourist judging by his cargo shorts and socks-with-sandals combo, grinned.

"Yeah, uh, can we get the… the bruchetas, please?"

Ruby froze.

The music stopped.

Her eye twitched.

Then she sighed. Loudly. Dramatically. Leaning forward, she dragged the notepad down her face with an exaggerated groan.

"E dai!" she exclaimed, her Italian accent doubling in strength. "It's-a bruschetta! Mamma mia! I can-a hear my nonna yelling from-a the grave!"

The customers flinched as a voice echoed from the kitchen—deep, raspy, and furious.

"LET ME OUT!"

The man nearly knocked over his glass. "What the heck was that?!"

Ruby, unfazed, straightened up and waved it off.

"She's not-a dead," she said calmly. "She's just-a dramatic."

Back in the Beacon lunch hall, total silence reigned.

Then Jaune burst into laughter.

"Is this… real?" he gasped, clutching his sides.

Weiss looked offended on twelve different levels. "She's making a mockery of culinary etiquette!"

Yang staggered forward, trying to process what she was seeing. "Is that… my sister? Wearing a fake mustache? Arguing about bruschetta pronunciation with ghosts?!"

"Alternate universe," Ozpin murmured. "Possibly a projected hallucination. Or a fractured reality echo."

"No," Sun said, grinning wide. "That's comedy gold."

On the screen, Ruby had pivoted to the kitchen, waving her hands like an opera conductor.

"Giuseppe! Table four needs-a bruschetta! And tell-a Nonna to stop haunting the oven!"

A hand reached out of the pizza oven, flipping a spatula toward her.

Ruby batted it away. "No hands in the food, Nonna! That's-a health violation!"

The Beacon crowd was now caught between awe and hysteria.

Ren blinked. "I… am not sure what emotion to feel."

"Fear?" offered Velvet.

"Crippling secondhand embarrassment," Weiss muttered.

Blake tilted her head. "It's strangely well-directed. Almost like a stage play."

Yatsuhashi stepped closer. "Does… this universe just have her running an Italian restaurant?"

"I want to eat there," Nora whispered.

Back on the screen, Ruby had returned to the table with a plate in hand. She presented it like it was a holy artifact.

"Here we have-a the real bruschetta. Tomato, basil, a drizzle of olive oil… no 'brushetta' nonsense here!"

The male customer hesitated. "You're really serious about this, huh?"

Ruby's eyes flared.

"Mister, if-a you knew how many times I heard people say it wrong, you'd-a understand. The first time I heard 'brushetta,' my nonna fainted in the grape field."

A ghostly voice from the ceiling added, "I died!"

Ruby shouted back, "You did not! You slipped on-a spaghetti!"

Back in Beacon, Yang leaned over to Ozpin. "So… any theories?"

Ozpin took a long sip from his thermos, unfazed. "Possibly an alternate dimension where Ruby followed her passion for bread-based appetizers instead of combat."

Weiss was pinching the bridge of her nose. "This is absurd. This is the most absurd thing I've ever seen."

"Not the worst timeline, though," Blake said under her breath.

Ruby turned to another table where a grumpy man with a scroll was texting.

"Excuse-a me, sir, no phones at the table! It-a disrupts the ambience!"

The man waved her off. "Yeah, yeah, whatever. Just get me a pizza."

Ruby narrowed her eyes.

She leaned in, voice low.

"We don't-a serve pizza."

"But it's an Italian restaurant."

"We serve-a bruschetta. And dignity."

Back at Beacon, Jaune was howling. "This is the best day of my life."

"Who is that version of Ruby?" Weiss said, watching in horror.

"Someone fabulous," Coco replied, adjusting her sunglasses.

The screen began to flicker again.

The restaurant scene wavered, like a mirage. Ruby turned to face the screen, her eyes briefly meeting those watching.

Then she smiled. A knowing, almost cheeky grin.

She winked.

"Ciao, amici. Until next-a time."

With a final accordion flourish, the image faded.

Silence returned to Beacon's lunch hall.

No one moved.

Blake finally spoke. "...Well. That was a thing."

Weiss flopped into a chair. "I'm going to be hearing her voice saying 'bruschetta' in my nightmares."

Yang looked both disturbed and proud. "I don't know whether to laugh, cry, or invest in breadsticks."

Sun gave a low whistle. "So, uh, does this mean our Ruby is moonlighting as a chef in another reality?"

Ozpin rubbed his chin. "Perhaps the screen is not simply showing us echoes of danger, but… glimpses into infinite variations."

Professor Oobleck zipped forward, eyes wide. "Fascinating! This opens up endless possibilities! Alternate timelines, fractured echoes, parallel personas!"

"Like a Rubyverse," Pyrrha suggested.

"Don't encourage that," Weiss muttered.

Nora threw a hand up. "I wanna see Ruby as a luchador next!"

Velvet, still shaken, asked the obvious. "But… why show us this? What's the point?"

Blake nodded. "Exactly. Is this a warning? A distraction? Or something else?"

Ozpin's voice turned serious. "It could mean many things. But one fact remains—Ruby is connected to this screen."

Yang stepped forward. "Then we stay here. We keep watching. She's reaching out, somehow."

"Maybe next time she won't be wearing a mustache," Jaune offered.

"No promises," Blake said.

The screen remained blank now, its glow absent, like it had never lit up at all.

But the laughter and the tension still lingered.

Team RWBY's remaining three stood together.

"She's out there," Yang said.

"And apparently serving carbs," Weiss added flatly.

Blake's lips quirked. "Wherever she is… she's okay. Or, at least, being extremely Ruby."

Ozpin finally turned from the screen, voice low.

"This may be the beginning of something greater than we understand."

Professor Goodwitch crossed her arms. "We'll need to monitor the hall. If this is a communication device between worlds…"

"It could be dangerous," Oobleck finished.

Port chuckled. "Or delicious."

Yang cracked a smile. "Guess we'll be back tomorrow."

Weiss nodded. "Whether for answers or… bruschetta."

The team turned from the dark screen, walking slowly out of the hall. The others followed.

As the doors closed behind them, no one noticed the faint hum that returned.

The screen blinked once.

Then twice.

And just before fading to black—

A small paper mustache fluttered down from nowhere… and landed on the floor.