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.
0.3 FPS.
Then the power flickered.
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.
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.
0.4 FPS.
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.
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 .
0.2.
Just a blink. The monitor went black, then returned. But something was wrong. The RivaTuner overlay was still there—the tiny yellow font—but it was no longer displaying "141 FPS."
Frame 3: The RivaTuner overlay itself, floating in a black void. Below the FPS counter, a new line of text appeared:
Alex slammed the power button. The PC fans whirred down. He sat in the dark, his heart a jackhammer. After ten minutes, he rebooted. He didn't launch Destiny 2. He launched Notepad. Then his browser. Then Minesweeper . The RivaTuner overlay was gone. riva tuner destiny 2