The last thing I remembered before I was shocked entirely out of my reverie, looking down once again at a world full of chaos that was, as usual, caused by a certain fire giant and his adopted stray fallen hero, was Diggory flattening himself to the ground just in time to avoid a large chunk of flaming jagged metal that had, half a second earlier, been part of the wall. The android was hit but didn't seem to care all that much. It beeped, pivoted a little, then grabbed the wreckage in its tentacles and threw it back with twice as much force at the ominous, huge shape that stood in the hole where the section of wall had been. Surtur pointed the Infernas at the drone and began striding towards it.

"What the frack do you think you're doing, trying to lock me out?" he growled.

"How does this look like I did it?" responded Diggory. The drone tried to glide over him and stab downwards with all its tentacles but he rolled out of the way at the last second. At the same time, the machine launched another volley of missiles. With a wave of his arm, Surtur sent an arc of flame to hit the homing missiles before they could reach his companion.

"Don't play dumb with me! This is your destiny! It's happening from your perspective! Who else's fault could it be?"

"Did you miss the part where my destiny hasn't worked ever in my entire life?"

It suddenly occurred to me that I was probably also present in the room as well, seeing as I wasn't in that strange quantum limbo any more. First I worked out that I was looking at the ceiling, meaning that I was lying on my back. Then I figured out that I wasn't on the floor. I fumbled around for an object to pull myself up off the floor with, trying to ignore the un-Plotbunny-like panic at realising that my weapon was missing and the pain in all my muscles. That was when I also discovered I was on a balcony, leaning against the railings. A quick look around me confirmed that there were no doors, stairs, ladders or any other way of leaving the balcony that wasn't suicidal.

Surtur brought his sword down in an overhead sweep, trailing flames, and would have cut Diggory in half and immolated him at the same time if he hadn't leapt back with the impossible swiftness and height of a terrified cat, as well as the approximate grace. The blade still passed close enough to him that his tunic and cape caught fire, despite Bernadette assuring him earlier that it was flameproof. There was a very important difference between flameproof and angry Surtur-proof. At that point, I doubt that Diggory's clothes would have failed to catch fire even if they were destined to not be on fire. As I watched Diggory scream even louder epithets and strip himself down to his bare chest, I wondered what potential ramifications this discovery would have on the Yule Cat's Universal mission. I also wondered if the modifications to Diggory's destiny had also failed to make him fireproof enough to withstand the barest touch of Surtur's flame when the giant wasn't holding back, or if he was more terrified of losing his clothes, the last shred of dignity as a main character he still retained. Even if he was sufficiently fireproof, the sword was still lethal when used by someone with entire aeons more experience than himself. I was surprised Diggory had survived as long as he did, until I realised that Surtur was suffering from the same handicap as myself. Even as he swung with blows powerful enough to carve up the floor and walls, he occasionally blinked, randomly looked around the room, shook his head and once even smacked himself across the head.

I wondered what he was going to do when (possibly if) Diggory's condition was ever fully healed and this was his permanent state. For this to even be a possibility uncovered by the wires laid bare by malfunction, he had to have been an incredibly vital role in the play of destiny.

"Please, stop trying to kill each other for one second and think!" I begged, hoping that my voice was audible over the chaos. When no response was forthcoming, and a particularly heavy swing managed to produce tremors that almost knocked me off the balcony, as well as putting a large hole in the floor and finally managing to keep a steady flame going amongst the pile of wreckage that now lay half-embedded in the far wall, I took out my narrative recording equipment and played back the section again at the highest volume I could set the device to. This function was never supposed to be used except in case of a serious malfunction or life-threatening situation, both of which this counted as. The device was meant to be a black box, sending data straight to the non-visible sectors of Data Memory until it was decided whether it was safe to use as an official record, with Plotbunnies little more than pairs of legs carrying the device from place to place. As such, it was very effective when it did actually get used. The audio output was meant to override actual scripted dialogue, in the event that such dialogue malfunctioned, or one or the other of the Endgame authorities determined that the main character was about to say something that would trigger a bad future cascade. That made it, by definition, the loudest thing in the room. Of course, it was absolutely illegal in Headquarters unless used to neutralise a faulty Sound Test. It could also produce a limited number of background tunes, an aspect I also used.

Surtur turned his head. As he scrabbled back up onto the twisted girder he hung from, so did Diggory. Finally, so did the drone. My shield saved me from disintegration by the stream of laser fire. Being a personal shield, it did nothing to stop the balcony from finally giving away.

Plotbunnies don't really have the capacity to emit an undignified scream, as a human would when falling fifty feet to their death, and even if I could have, it was more important at that moment to keep the recording device's playback from running. To interrupt it mid-flow had even more drastic potential consequences to the already crumbling narrative order of my surroundings than turning on the blasted liability of a thing in the first place.

"I'll save you!" volunteered Surtur, before shooting an almost solid pillar of flames straight from his sword into the floor below me, instantly melting a hole into it.

"That's not saving! That's worse!" I cried out, jerking my hand away as I realised just in time that the edge of the hole I tried to grab onto was still smouldering. Maybe my shield could have held long enough to counteract the remainder of the fall – probably not, with a drone still pursuing me and constantly shooting at me with all its lasers while knocking the falling balcony away with its missiles, so that instead of hitting the robot, several tons of twisted metal was flung at Diggory. He yelped, then, seeing no other recourse, jumped after me, down the other hole and into the pure black void.

Seconds later, I heard a wild yell and saw Surtur shoot sword-first out of a third, freshly created hole. Behind him, now also aflame, darted the still-pursuing drone, emitting a shrill beep like an enraged, burning, mechanical bird of prey.

"Yule Cat! Save us! Please! Look, Diggory even removed his..."

My recording device beeped, You have used the word 'save' twice now. Do you wish to save over the current file or start a new…

"NO!" I yelled, slamming on a bright, happy, ultra-good-future theme, risking that it would annoy a passing Game Over official enough that they would swoop past on a moving platform just long enough for me to mug them and steal it, preferably before the tune actually conflicted with local reality and caused an explosion powerful enough to shatter neighbouring parallel scenarios as well as my own timeline.

"Stop that nonsense this instant or I'll aim this hairball at you," said a familiar voice. Then I was yanked by the scruff of my neck like a kitten, except with enough force to break my spine if it wasn't for the weird non-gravity of my surroundings.

A twin stream of ruby and emerald light streamed from the Yule Cat's back, arcing through the void towards one of the fragments of a now burning satellite, detached from its parent body to wheel away from the danger that threatened it, hopefully to preserve the facility's more important functions. The guiding lights were quickly followed by the dishevelled, lightly seared face of Diggory, who stood up, brandished his weapons and whirled his hands around to make the streams of light dance like ribbons in a jester's outfit. Surtur provided the background music while occasionally throwing fireballs over his shoulder at the incredibly persistent drone.

"There's no time to joke. The final chamber has been revealed. We must follow it!" I urged.

"We're not joking," explained Diggory, a flourish of his hands causing the pattern to bounce wildly, so that a human could have jumped through the gap between the blades' streams, "We're finding the rhythm of the natural background music again."

"What you did to attract my attention wasn't worth the risk. They're not the irresponsible ones here."

"I had no idea you were still hanging around. I thought you went to find a bowl of souls or something."

"They're all out fixing their own problems. True Zombies again. Lots of them," explained the Cat, screwing his nose up as though he was discussing a foul taste or a bad smell. I shivered. I had never seen a True Zombie before but I knew the general principle. A plain old zombie was destined to rise from the grave as a flesh-eating ghoul. A True Zombie was what happened if the technical process of personal death and revival went wrong at a Game Over level, usually as a result of a malfunctioning 1-Up. An infestation would explain why Game Over were too busy to sort out other peoples' problems. Again, the Cat reminded me, "But it still doesn't excuse your actions!"

"Hey, don't let him hog all the glory. We all broke it together. All our actions combined cause it to mess up enough that we managed to gain access to it," said Diggory. By now, the background music was actually resembling the fire giant's rendition of it. The drone had finally been silenced by a swipe of the Cat's paws after hovering too close to her hind legs. The detached module of the satellite drew close, a single cube, trailing uncoupled wires like a blocky, short-limbed jellyfish. Actual jellyfish wandered up to investigate it but scattered when the noisy individuals appeared. After watching it rotate for a few minutes, the door finally swung into view, whereupon Surtur shoved his sword straight into it and cut a portion of it away. The Cat latched her forepaws into the hole and wrapped herself around the module's bulk while the other two passengers disembarked.

"I'll hang around and chase the jellyfish for a while in case you two screw up and need me again," she said, "Your antics are kind of amusing me."

"We'd appreciate a ride back," said Surtur.

His eyes, intently watching us, glowed like two emerald searchlights in the lightless hallway. Diggory's blades also shone as brightly as before, now chiming and vibrating in a way that almost made their wielder drop them. Instead, he cursed at them and held his hand up to the far door. The corridor wasn't that long but the door at the other end still managed to loom ominously. Outlined in red, it was covered in warning lights, 'danger' signs and occasionally announced 'malfunction detected' in a robotic female voice.

"It's not what you think it is," called Diggory, "I'm not the enemy. I'm just having some technical problems. I don't even know what's going on, but I swear it's still me."

"Voice pattern and handprint recognised," replied the voice, "Destiny scan matches but with over one hundred errors. Verification trial report: aborted due to sabotage."

"It was an emergency exit. The trial went wrong on me, because it didn't take into account the other errors," Diggory explained, "I have your weapons. If you don't let me in to charge them, there'll be nothing left that can fight the enemy you know has reappeared."

"Three intruders detected. Reports from the foyer state that they may be dangerous escaped prisoners."

"No, they're not really prisoners!" Diggory waved his hands frantically, "I... um... interrogated them until they told me who they are."

"I am Bunfire of the Plotbunnies," I introduced myself, "Of course, you may be older than our service, but you can't be older than all known narrative distribution and repair services. You know why I have come to inspect both your facility and your representative."

"And I'm Surtur, freelance Final Guardian," said the fire giant, "Here to find out what's going on and how it affects me before the Guild make all the information mysteriously disappear."

"This facility dates back to the first founding of Game Over as a formal organisation and the colonisation of the lower dimensions. The situation has changed a lot since you were last online," I told the machine.

"Actually, I have never been offline. My service has continued since the founding," replied the voice, "Contact with this facility's entire staff was only lost in the last four thousand years."

"That can't be long for a facility like this," said Surtur, "Heck, I'm still sorting out things I broke four thousand years ago!"

"I can confirm that you are indeed Diggory Doragor, and that the lagomorph is a representative of a sub-Game Over interplanetary authority," said the voice, "Although you have no authority to be in Game Over territory."

"I apologise for my trespassing," I said, then explained about the Game Over habit of abandoning lapsed facilities and not allowing access to them. I added, "You might want to contact the front desk directly, or they won't think to send anyone out for repairs. If they're busy, they might not even investigate the explosion. You'd be amazed how often explosions just happen in the outlying Game Over territory."

"Then I propose an exchange," said the facility, "You will tell them in person. I will contact the Central Office now, and allow them access after an arranged time. You will be allowed in this facility while the Chaos Displacer is being charged and upgraded, and Harrier Doragor reconnected to the system, then you will explain the situation to the staff."

"I suppose I can't avoid speaking to them forever," I sighed, my ears drooping, "I agree to your terms."

"Let us in now," said Diggory, shoving the door and then walking in without checking that it was actually opening. It did so automatically, admitting them into another tall, cylindrical chamber. In its centre was a single control panel, oddly smooth and organic in design but still the signature black outlined with red lighting that faded in and out, looking a lot more like pulsating veins in this machine. On either side of the machine was a circular panel in the floor that was emitting a column of light. Seemingly knowing what to do by instinct, Diggory walked up to the panel and placed each blade gently inside a column of light. The two lights flare up for a moment, obscuring the view of the blades, and there was a rumbling sound from deep within the floor of the facility. Then the panel's screen beeped, turned off and then on again. An image of each blade appeared, surrounded by symbols that were meaningless to me.

"Chaos Displacers recognised. Power low, commencing recharge," said the voice, "Reading data in the meanwhile. Device has been used as a weapon in authorised situations twenty five times, unauthorised uses over two hundred and fifty five. Higher function uses: zero."

"Well, don't blame me for not remembering what the damn things even do," Diggory shrugged, "Who was it that never came back for me? You can't have not known I was experiencing difficulties. I... even sorta remember I was faulty before you took me in. That I was here because my own destiny still wasn't working back then. And what about the others? Why didn't you send one of them to rescue me? What happened to them all?"

"I'm sorry, but, of all the emergency player characters assigned to this facility, none survived, except for the now confirmed existence of Mr. Doragor, who we lost sight of during the attack."

"What attack? What could have wiped out a whole squadron of people who are sent into places too tough for their own main character to deal with?"

"Information about the incident is restricted, as many staff members were required to undergo destructive data rollback to remove the chance of viral infection, including one Diggory Doragor," said the machine, "There are situations an emergency player character encounters where strength is not the only factor. In these situations, another factor must be available that can be fielded. Diggory Doragor is that other factor. Diggory Doragor must be preserved at all costs."

"Preserved, as in..." Diggory suddenly glared up at the panel with a dangerous look in his eyes, "It was you, wasn't it?"

"All factors were considered. The exact same technology was used to preserve you as is used on the first-ranking of the High Score Table. There was no possible way left over for you to break free of stasis by yourself. And yet, all events so far have been irrefutable evidence that it is you. The only possible situation is that the enemy has returned."

"You asshole!" yelled Diggory.

"I am releasing all seals on the twin reality-hacking keys 'Displacement Crisis'," said the voice, "Project God-Slaying Sword has reconvened. And now it is time for you to once again see the face of your enemy."

---

What I was shown on that main panel was probably not meant for me but I saw it anyway, most likely due to a failure in Diggory's cut scenes to be private, and I recognised it instantly, all too well. It was in shadow, blurry as it was recorded from the perspective of something already being destroyed by it, but I could not fail to recognise it. As I gazed upon its face, as I saw what it had done despite believing it had ended so long ago, by my own hand, I reacted immediately.

"I need to return to Headquarters," I told the others, already turning around and heading to the exit, "I need to warn them."

"Is that a..." whispered Surtur, strangely quiet as he watched the figure, an inverse shadow burned onto darkness like the aftermath of a nuclear disaster, still waving his arm and mouthing a few words that were incomprehensible but that I still remembered from the first time they were spoken.

I nodded.

"Told you," said the fire giant, resting his arms on his knees and sighing as if weary of the Universe. Diggory merely kept on staring, transfixed, as the figure disappeared through nothing, "So, what are we going to do?"

As if in answer, a panel began to slide away from the wall in front of me, the size of the doors we had entered through. Almost perfectly on cue, Diggory hauled himself to his feet and began to walk towards the panel, staring intently at it, arms by his sides. They were both a lot more silent than I was comfortable with. I was soon aware that they were in a world of processes that had begun long before I existed and were only just resuming this instant as though no time had passed at all. And, perhaps, I would have to do the same, now that he was back.

Displacement Crisis. A design based around the Beasts of Displacement we first encountered travelling freely between dimensions, now domesticated. Two will be present at the time and place of impact. This will not be a coincidence. Nothing is merely a coincidence. It is one more law of the Universe's narrative that our role is to oversee and protect from its greatest threats. Our every remaining hope flies with you, Diggory Doragor.