In the real world, Beacon Academy had all but stopped functioning as a school.

Classes were postponed. Lunch was forgotten. The entire student body and faculty were packed into the dining hall, transfixed by the shimmering screen at the front of the room.

This screen—a mystery, a marvel, a gift from the universe—continued to show the escapades of alternate-universe Ruby Rose. And tonight, the impossible story would become… legendary.

Flicker. Hum. Buzz.

The screen blinked to life.

A low cheer rolled through the room like thunder.

There it was again.

Casa di Crescent Rose.

But this time… something was different.

The mood was tense.

The air buzzed with anticipation.

Ruby Rose stood before a table near the front window, where AU-Coco and AU-Velvet were just finishing their meal. Both women had faint sauce stains on their collars, signs of a truly passionate dinner.

Ruby placed her hands on her hips, mustache twitching.

"So," she said with a tone of playful menace, "tell me… was the food good?"

Coco dabbed her lips with a napkin, calm and confident. "Very good."

Velvet nodded quickly beside her. "Oh, yes! Delicious, thank you!"

Ruby narrowed her eyes.

"Uh huh…" she said slowly. "Was it better… than the food from the Italian restaurant run by JNPR… across the street?"

Both girls froze.

Back in Beacon, Jaune's mouth dropped open. "Wait, we have a rival restaurant?!"

Pyrrha blinked. "I… make pasta?"

On screen, Ruby pulled a pair of vintage binoculars from her apron and peered dramatically through the window, scanning the enemy establishment.

A sign across the street read:

"Team JNPR's House of Noodles"

"Home of the Slightly Less Yelled-At Bruschetta"

Ruby's brow twitched.

Velvet stammered, "Umm… I—uh…"

Just then—CRASH!!

A rock sailed through the window, shattering the glass behind Ruby and clattering onto the floor beside the table.

Screams erupted from nearby diners.

Ruby spun around with murder in her eyes.

Through the shattered window, they could see her.

Nora Valkyrie.

Standing proudly in the window of the rival restaurant, holding a second rock in her hand and grinning like she'd just invented warfare.

Ruby pointed furiously.

"They threw a rock through our window!!"

Back in Beacon, the cafeteria exploded in cheers and laughter.

"YEAH, I DID!" Nora shouted, pumping her fists in real life.

Ruby (on screen) turned back, her eyes blazing.

She cupped her hands around her mouth and shouted toward the rival establishment.

"THIS IS WAR, JAUNE!!"

Inside the JNPR restaurant, Jaune dropped his serving tray and screamed.

Ruby turned on her heel, ripped her apron from her waist, and threw it down like a gauntlet.

"Giacomo Yang!!"

From the kitchen, Giacomo Yang's head appeared—mustache slightly askew, shotgun slung over her shoulder like a tired soldier.

"Cue the music!"

And with that—an adorable but dramatic Italian war march started playing from hidden speakers. Mandolins. Violins. A tambourine solo. It was magnificent.

"Take cover!!" Ruby shouted.

Pots clanged. Servers screamed. The air shifted.

And then—chaos.

Ruby launched a frying pan full of meatballs through the shattered window like a discus. It sailed with deadly grace into the rival restaurant.

Inside JNPR's House of Noodles, Pyrrha stood behind the bar in a full chef's uniform, armed with a ladle the size of a longsword.

She spotted Ruby's attack, narrowed her eyes, and responded the only way she knew how.

BANG!

A breadstick cannon launched a crusty projectile straight at Ruby's head.

"DOWN!!" she screamed, ducking just in time.

The breadstick splintered against the wall behind her.

Coco and Velvet hit the floor, clutching metal mixing bowls over their heads like helmets.

"I regret everything!" Velvet shouted.

Coco muttered, "I don't."

Ruby rolled behind an overturned table, tossing sauce bottles like grenades across the street.

"Flank them from the bakery!" she ordered.

"WE DON'T HAVE A BAKERY!" Yang shouted from the kitchen.

"FLANK THEM ANYWAY!"

Back in Beacon, students were howling.

"This is the greatest thing I've ever seen," whispered Ren.

Professor Port had taken notes. "My culinary studies never prepared me for warfare."

Ozpin stared silently, occasionally sipping his thermos.

On-screen, the war escalated.

Yang stepped out from the kitchen, pump-action shotgun in hand. She leaned out the front door and fired—launching a cloud of garlic bread at the rival storefront.

Inside JNPR's, Nora was now behind a soup trebuchet, winding it back as Jaune screamed and tried to stop her.

"NOT THE BISQUE!!" Jaune cried.

"FOR HONOR!!" Nora yelled.

Soup splattered across the sidewalk, narrowly missing Ruby as she dived for cover.

Pyrrha climbed onto the countertop of their restaurant and drew a pasta-saber made of twisted spaghetti, hardened into a blade. "CHAAAARGE!!"

Ruby rolled her eyes. "Of course she has a pasta sword."

Coco peeked over her bowl-helmet. "I don't think this place has insurance."

Ruby turned toward her.

"If I don't come back, you're in charge of dessert."

"I accept," Coco said solemnly.

Ruby somersaulted through the doorway, tossing lasagna like it was confetti.

Back in Beacon, Weiss said, "I refuse to believe this is happening."

"It's glorious," said Blake, resting her chin on her hand.

The screen pulsed. Images quickened.

Velvet and Coco defended the espresso machine with spatulas.

Yang, apron tied like a bandolier, manned the pastry cannon.

Ruby stormed across the street, tomato sauce raining down like judgment.

"THIS STREET AIN'T BIG ENOUGH FOR TWO ITALIAN RESTAURANTS!" she screamed.

Jaune stood atop a folding table, hands up.

"I JUST WANTED TO MAKE FETTUCCINE!!"

Pyrrha tackled him from behind, dragging him behind cover.

"NO DIPLOMACY, JAUNE. ONLY SAUCE."

The camera zoomed out—food flinging in every direction, music swelling, Grandma yelling curses from the oven.

The war raged on.

And then—just as quickly as it began—

Silence.

The camera cut back to the front of Casa di Crescent Rose.

The broken window.

The pan-smashed tables.

Coco and Velvet slowly removing their mixing bowl helmets.

Ruby stood, smeared in flour and sauce, breathing heavily.

Her mustache was gone.

Her hair was wild.

But she smiled.

She looked directly at the camera.

"We will rebuild."

Blackout.

The screen faded to black.

Silence fell over Beacon's lunch hall like a dropped curtain after a chaotic play. For a long, breathless moment, no one moved. No one spoke.

Then—

"YOOOOOOOOOO!!!" Nora screamed, leaping onto the nearest table like she had just won a world championship.

"I STARTED A FOOD WAR!!"

"Technically," Ren said, not even trying to hide his smile, "you escalated one. Still… impressive."

Port, eyes wide, looked down at the furious notes he'd taken. "I—I didn't even know culinary warfare was an option!"

Velvet, still clutching her scroll with both hands, blinked slowly. "Did I just… wear a mixing bowl into battle?"

Coco adjusted her sunglasses. "You were fabulous."

Yang was doubled over in laughter. "I shot a garlic bread shotgun! I didn't even know I had one until it appeared!"

Blake calmly sipped from a teacup someone had handed her mid-chaos. "That was… the most unhinged thing I've ever seen."

"We will rebuild," Weiss echoed in a daze. "She said we will rebuild. Like a soldier after a war. She's so dramatic."

Weiss stood up suddenly.

"Okay. That's it. I'm filing a formal complaint to the universe."

"Don't bother," said Sun, leaning forward, grinning. "The multiverse clearly doesn't care."

Pyrrha stood slowly. "I had… a pasta sword."

"You led a charge!" Jaune shouted, pointing at her in disbelief. "You dragged me into a war!"

"You ran a rival restaurant," Pyrrha replied calmly. "Actions have consequences."

Jaune flailed. "I just wanted to serve noodles in peace! That escalated so fast! She threw a meatball grenade!"

Goodwitch, watching from the faculty table, closed her notebook and pinched the bridge of her nose.

"I taught her discipline. I taught her grace. And now she's out there throwing lasagna like a boomerang."

Professor Oobleck practically vibrated with excitement. "This has exceeded all expectations! Multiversal culinary warfare! Weaponized carbs! Emotional arcs wrapped in mozzarella!"

Ozpin remained silent. He stared at the screen, thermos in hand, as if trying to solve a cosmic riddle wrapped in spaghetti.

Yang finally composed herself. "I got hit by a Vespa and manned a pastry cannon. Honestly? 10/10 timeline. Would return."

Blake looked at her sideways. "You've been hit by a lot in these visions."

"Hey," Yang grinned, "somebody's gotta tank the pasta."

Nora flopped into the nearest seat, sighing dreamily. "I've never been so proud. That was the most Nora-coded chaos I've ever seen."

Velvet, cheeks still flushed, asked, "Did I actually say the soup had a Nevermore feather?"

"Yup," Yang nodded. "You were very polite about it too."

"And you, Port," Coco said, side-eying him, "were fired. On the spot."

Port clutched his heart. "A dishonorable dismissal! I—I never dreamed I would be terminated in a hallucination!"

"It wasn't a hallucination," Weiss said, exasperated. "It's obviously a multiverse echo, broadcasting alternate timelines connected through Ruby's consciousness and cosmic mustache energy."

Everyone turned to stare.

"What?" Weiss said. "I've been listening."

Ren gave a low whistle. "She's not wrong."

Nora leaned forward. "Hey, hey! Do you think there's a version of me that owns a breakfast diner and declares war on tea shops?"

"I think there's a version of you that's made of waffles," Jaune muttered.

The room started to calm, the buzz slowly giving way to contemplation.

Ozpin finally spoke.

"There's a pattern here."

All eyes turned to him.

"These aren't just random universes. They're linked—through emotion. Rivalry. Loyalty. Identity. Ruby doesn't just run a restaurant in these worlds. She fights for it. Protects it. Defines herself through it."

"She's a warrior of carbs," Yang whispered reverently.

Goodwitch exhaled slowly. "We used to worry about the Grimm. Now we worry about airborne tomato sauce."

Oobleck tapped the screen with the end of his pen. "This anomaly… it's alive. Reactive. It's drawing from your relationships. Your bonds. These aren't just alternate Rubys. They're her echoes, filtered through your connections."

"Which means," Blake said softly, "if we keep watching… we might learn something real."

Weiss folded her arms. "If we keep watching, I might go insane."

"Too late," Jaune quipped.

Suddenly, the screen flickered.

Just a pulse.

Like a heartbeat.

Everyone turned.

The room fell silent again.

But no image appeared—just that low, familiar hum.

Yang stepped forward. "You think she's watching us too?"

Blake nodded. "I think she's aware."

Ren said, "I think we're going to see more."

Sun rubbed his hands together. "So… who's next in the madness?"

Velvet raised her hand timidly. "Can I… not be next?"

Coco leaned back, grinning. "I'm hoping for Weiss. Maybe she opens a rival gelato stand."

"Don't give the multiverse ideas," Weiss hissed.

From the back, Port huffed. "If they give me a redemption arc, I demand a ladle duel."

Ozpin's voice cut through the chatter.

"This isn't over."

Everyone turned back toward the screen.

Some nervous.

Some excited.

All hooked.

And somewhere, in another version of Remnant, Ruby Rose stood on the battlefield of a food war—mustache crooked, apron stained, pan in hand—and looked to the sky.

Waiting for the next chapter.