Yes.

Time stops outside this room!

"Well. There we go. Things don't happen anymore. I think."

Is it totally certain that nothing keeps happening outside this room?

No.

...reasonably certain?

No.

"Wishing for everything to stop everywhere apparently. Doesn't. Make it certain that everything stops everywhere. Huh.

Why is that?”

- Fundamental uncertainty about totality of existence

- Timetflow keeps restarting in some universes

"I guess I could just. Wish the time everywhere to stop repeatedly. Does this... even make any sense? Can I do that?"

Yes.

"Well that's dumb.

I have no idea if that's a good idea."

Is that a good idea?

Blank paper.

yeah, Megan figured.

"Don't ask if it's a good idea; ask what the consequences would be and make your own judgement."

"What would the consequences be?"

Complicated.

"...More verbosely, please, hypothetical author."

At this point, it is a a practiced mental motion:

I wish for a piece of paper with a detailed answer to a question "What would be the consequences of repeatedly stopping time all over existence?"

This might have been a mistake on Megan's part.

Existence is big. Even outliers to existence are big.

Clusters of universes with clusters of galaxies with clusters of solar systems with clusters of civilizations with clusters of individuals...

All interconnected by webs of consequences...

A piece of paper, blackened by dense writing in tiny font, appears in Megan's hand.

Or rather, the middle of it's bottom.

The area of the entire piece of paper is comparable to a cross-section of the observable Star Wars universe.

Upon appearing, it sliced through Diana's ship, as well as countless celestial objects and quite a few sentient beings. Though, of course, all of this is happening in the time-stopped zone. People cut in twain by the piece of paper didn't actually die - or perhaps they all died as soon as time stopped for them, waiting to be replaced by duplicates on resolution?

If not for the time-stop, the piece of paper and ink would be twisted and ripped apart by monstrous forces, collapse on itself in multiple points, and no doubt form quite a few black holes and  unprecedented astronomical objects (due to high concentrations of carbon and zinc), while wreaking havoc on all galaxies it passed through (all those people cut in twain would be promptly disinterested by effective collisions of their planet with a LOT of paper on VERY high speeds), though it would take quite a lot of time for all the gravitational waves to propagate and all the potential energy to lash out.

"AAA!"

"...Let's undo that, shall we," she says from where she ducked.

"And - perhaps you should request that the results of your commands be measured against your expectations, and executed only with a secondary, knowing, permission, if they diverge significantly from those expectations?"

The "summon bigger piece of paper" action is undone.

I wish that the results of my commands are measured against my expectations, and executed only with a secondary, knowing, permission, if they diverge significantly from those expectations.

"Done."

Of course, it's not the kind of wish that immediately provides feedback about it working.