Riva Tuner Destiny 2 -

0.4 FPS.

Tonight, the Tower hub area was crowded. Hundreds of Guardians, their armor shimmering with arcane shaders, danced and sparred. Alex’s framerate trembled. 140. 139. 138. A cold dread pooled in his stomach. He opened RivaTuner, cranking the scanline sync and forcing the framerate limiter to 142. The numbers steadied.

And in the top-right corner, in that familiar, crisp yellow font:

Frame 3: The RivaTuner overlay itself, floating in a black void. Below the FPS counter, a new line of text appeared: riva tuner destiny 2

Alex laughed nervously. A glitch. He moved his mouse. The Guardian on screen didn't move. The overlay ticked to 0.9 FPS. It felt like the game was rendering one agonizing frame per second of something else .

And Alex realized, with a slow, creeping horror, that he was no longer playing Destiny 2 .

And in the final rendered frame, he saw the RivaTuner overlay again, but it was no longer on his monitor. It was stitched directly across his own vision, burned into his retinas. Alex’s framerate trembled

Relief flooded him. He uninstalled RivaTuner. He deleted MSI Afterburner. He purged every registry key. He went to bed, vowing to play console games from now on, locked at a juddery 30 FPS where nothing could hide between the frames.

The Frame Counter

Frame 1: The Traveler, but cracked like a dropped egg, oozing a viscous, golden light that moved in reverse, sucking itself back into the sphere. the screen flickered to life.

Frame 2: His own Guardian, but the helmet was off. The face underneath wasn't his. It was a stretched, porcelain mannequin with Zavala's jaw and Ikora's eyes.

He woke to sunlight and the soft hum of his idle PC. The monitor was dark. He reached for the mouse. As his fingers touched the plastic, the screen flickered to life.

0.2.