Beacon Academy's lunch hall had officially turned into a multiverse watch party.

It had been hours since anyone touched a plate of food. The student body now lived for the screen, this impossible window into the infinite—and increasingly ridiculous—versions of Ruby Rose. Ozpin had assigned note-takers. Goodwitch had assigned seating. Oobleck was drafting a 10-part thesis.

And still, the screen flickered.

And every time, the world waited.

And now—it flickered again.

Bzzzzt. Frrrrt. Click.

The image steadied.

They were back.

Casa di Crescent Rose.

It was dinner rush this time. Ruby—mustache primed, apron freshly fluffed—floated from table to table like a culinary storm in combat boots. The accordion music had picked up tempo. Waiters rushed back and forth. Chaos brewed beneath a façade of elegance.

Blake leaned forward in anticipation. "Here we go again."

Ruby had just served a tray of sizzling risotto to a table of terrified Mistrali diplomats when a meek voice called from across the room:

"Excuse me… um…"

Ruby turned. "Yes, my beautiful patron?"

The camera cut to a nervous AU-Velvet Scarlatina, seated at a corner table. She held a spoon awkwardly above a bowl of steaming soup.

"There's… there's a huge Nevermore feather in my soup."

Ruby blinked.

She leaned closer.

Stared into the soup.

Sure enough—a long, black feather curled dramatically around the bowl like it was trying to start a monologue.

Ruby's eye twitched.

"PORT!!"

Back in Beacon, everyone gasped.

Professor Peter Port sat up from the back of the cafeteria. "Wait—me?"

On screen, from the kitchen, a booming laugh erupted.

"WOOOOHOOOO!"

Port came charging out in full chef attire, twirling a massive ladle like a battle axe.

Velvet shrank back.

Port posed heroically. "Ah! The feather! A memento of my latest conquest—slain mere hours ago for the honor of our house soup!"

Ruby dropped her tray.

"YOU'RE FIRED!!"

"UUUUAAAAHHHHH!!" Port screamed in despair, collapsing into a heap of culinary sorrow.

"Security!" Ruby shouted. "Get him out of my dining hall before he marinates in the fountain again!"

In Beacon, real Port looked mortified. "I would never put feathers in a bisque."

"I would," Nora whispered.

The screen flickered slightly, jumping to a new moment—same night, different table.

Ruby now stood before AU-Coco Adel.

Coco removed her sunglasses just enough to raise a perfectly groomed eyebrow.

"So," she said, gesturing to her plate, "this pasta… is really handmade?"

Ruby puffed out her chest.

"Señorita! If this pasta isn't handmade, may a Vespa fall onto my head!"

The restaurant fell silent.

Waiters paused mid-step.

Someone dropped a fork.

In Beacon, Jaune whispered, "Don't tempt the multiverse."

On-screen, Coco squinted at the ceiling.

Nothing happened.

No crash. No Vespa. No ghostly Italian curse.

Ruby tapped her forehead with the end of her pen. "Huh. Look at that. No Vespa."

Back in Beacon, Yang muttered, "Weirdly anticlimactic."

Nora looked disappointed. "I wanted a scooter explosion!"

Velvet giggled. "You people are unwell."

The restaurant scene shifted again.

Ruby now stood front and center. Her apron slightly wrinkled, her smile strained, but she pushed on.

"Would anybody like a dessert?" she called out to the crowd.

The accordion picked up a soft, romantic tune. The lights dimmed. A few couples raised hands.

Ruby nodded. "We have tiramisu. Panna cotta. Ghost-approved cannoli—"

The camera shifted slightly.

Behind her, Giacomo Yang strolled lazily toward the kitchen, humming. Her mustache slightly crooked, her chef hat tilted back.

Real-world Yang crossed her arms. "Look at me, just vibing. No idea what's coming."

And then—

From the ceiling—

WHAM!!

A full-size Vespa scooter plummeted from the rafters, bouncing once before landing squarely on Giacomo Yang's back with a honk-honk and a sad little beep.

Beacon lost its mind.

Weiss leapt to her feet. "WHAT?!"

Nora stood and pointed. "YES! IT HAPPENED!"

Ruby turned around slowly, blinking at the fallen scooter.

Yang groaned beneath it.

The Vespa honked again, like it was satisfied.

Ruby looked up at the ceiling.

Then to the guests.

Then back to the kitchen.

"...I said my head," she whispered.

From beneath the Vespa, Yang wheezed, "Close enough..."

"Justice is flexible," Grandma's voice croaked from the pizza oven.

Sun wheezed in laughter. "She got Vespa'd! That's poetic karma!"

Coco in Beacon held up her scroll. "I'm saving that frame. I'm making it my wallpaper."

Back on-screen, Ruby turned to the audience, utterly deadpan.

"Sometimes, the universe delivers… just a little late."

Then she turned back toward the dining room and announced, "One free dessert for anyone who didn't get hit with a scooter."

Everyone applauded.

Beacon was roaring. Tears ran down Jaune's face. Weiss looked like she might faint.

Port muttered to himself, "Fired… by a fake version of myself. How insulting…"

Velvet said softly, "I didn't know Ruby had this much chaos in her."

"She's always had it," Blake said. "The multiverse just lets her lean into it."

Ozpin stepped forward, thoughtful.

"There's a pattern forming. A buildup of her wish-making actually affecting the world."

"You think… Ruby's words have power in these universes?" asked Ren.

"Power," Oobleck echoed. "Or consequence."

"Even nonsense can have ripple effects," Goodwitch said.

"Especially nonsense," added Coco.

The screen began to fade.

Ruby reappeared one final time.

The camera zoomed in.

She held a single plate in her hands.

A slice of tiramisu. Light. Fluffy. Dusted with cocoa.

She looked into the lens.

Smiled.

Then whispered:

"Say what you want, but nobody leaves hungry."

And the screen cut to black.