3. A True Awakening

*... ... ...*

There is a noise. A distant, indistinct noise. And it keeps going, keeps murmuring as it slowly gets louder and louder, until...

"...Ji...gi h]i'...a lit]'..."

'...' The noise was becoming clear. Kind of. Or perhaps noises might me more accurate...?

"...Mk&*ig]fin n%h&(*ek hr!&o..."

'...Mmmm... Go... Away...' This noise is sounding like... Like... Something. Something too much of a hassle to remember right now... But that something, whatever it is, is annoying...

"...Hji&nf}\i hi]'nf$ee mv$#en$de fw|:aedin g"{reti gu"_(stre an*^sdusti]'fernrekra."

'.......Hmmm? ....Wait, why does it seem like someone is taking?' And suddenly a realization is had. Someone was speaking. However, they had stopped speaking right as she awoke. But, as for the language... If it's a language, it doesn't even sound close to anything in her memories. It isn't even something a human body should be capable of producing. It's unlikely the sounds could even be written using any earth Alphabet. And yet, it came out fluently, one syllable after another, all the way to the end. At least, every part she heard was so. But, as she becomes more awake, suddenly she realizes something.

"Wait... I didn't die?" she suddenly asks herself, unintentionally speaking out loud, under her breath. However, that was more than loud enough for the two beings in the room to catch it. As she began to open her eyes and sit up, the two beings came into view.

And, of course, her very first reaction is to rub her eyes. After all, she just woke up and these two beings look very blurry in her eyes. However, even after trying multiple times to clear her eyes, the blurriness didn't fade. That's when she realizes that she could see just fine, it was the two people themselves that were somehow blurry. Bewildered, she attempts to look closely for a moment before giving up on trying to figure it out on her own.

"Why are you blurry?" she blurts out, before really considering whether such a question is appropriate first.

"Hahaha!" laughs the chatty one. "Certainly didn't expect that question! Most people would ask 'where am I?', or 'who are you?'. You? You instead ask why we're blurry! Such a sense of priorities! Haha!" He continues laughing for a bit more, while the woman sitting on the bed felt a blush slowly creep across her face. In her opinion, that isn't a weird question, but the way he's laughing makes her feel like she's being mocked. Eventually, he realizes what he's doing and quickly stops laughing, before giving a half-hearted apology.

"As for the reason why we're blurry? It's because we can move along a fourth dimension of space. If we line up just right, we can occupy only the plane of fourth space you're on, and we should stop being blurry, but since we're unaccustomed to doing that, it would be hard for us to speak or move while maintaining it. See?" The chatty one does the fourth dimensional equivalent of standing ramrod straight, finally coming into focus for the woman to see clearly. He looks like a normal human male, mostly, but his skin, hair, and eyes have a strong red tint, reminiscent of flames. Other than this peculiarity, he's about as average as any man has ever looked, excluding his more muscular build. But he looks a little strained in this stiff position. After a moment, he lets go of the position and returns to blurriness.

"Now, have any other questions? Preferably not about the complexities of fourth dimensional movement," the quiet one says, finally speaking up.

"Er... Yeah. Two questions primarily. Why aren't I dead and where am I? Er... Wait, actually, am I really even alive, or is this the afterlife?" the woman asks.

Immediately, the quiet one begins a concise, no fluff explanation of events so far, "Technically you died. Technically you're alive right now. This isn't the afterlife, because what you're thinking of doesn't exist. When a person dies, if their soul isn't powerful or aware enough, the soul will reincarnate through Samsara. You died in the collapse of your home. Your soul found its way here before Samsara took it. We reconstructed your soul and made you a new body because we were bored. Your soul was missing its sense of self, so we worked with your soul to recreate your sense of self, based on your soul's choices. You're currently in the control hub of this small order multiverse. We are here to ensure proper operation of this multiverse. I assume that covers most of it?"

"So this isn't Earth? I'm reincarnated? What's Samsara? What's a small order multiverse? Who sent you two here? Who built this place?"

The woman feels like she's being slammed with a truck's worth of information all at once, especially given the quick and somewhat inpatient way the information was conveyed. Several of the terms are completely new to her, in fact. But the biggest source of confusion is just in trying to comprehend that her universe not only is so tiny that it's merely part of a multiverse, but that even that her multiverse is apparently 'small', merely a managed territory... Or subordinate space... Or whatever the relationship is. However, the quiet one doesn't respond, leaving the chatty one to come forward again.

"Correct, this isn't Earth. And semi-correct, you died and are alive now, but you didn't go through real reincarnation, so it doesn't really count. More like healing from a reeeeally bad injury. As for the other questions, there will be plenty of time later to go over those. Especially since you don't yet qualify to know about who built this place or sent us here. Just know that we're in charge of this place. Normally, you wouldn't even be qualified to see us, let alone speak to us, but right now you're a bit of a 'pet project', so this is a special exception. I'll go ahead and say it now so you can get used to it; My name is to be called Lord Flameorigin. His name is to be called Lord Waveorigin. To refer to us otherwise would be considered quite... Impolite, so I'd recommended avoiding that." He glares at the woman, who quickly nods her head in acknowledgement. Upon seeing this, Lord Flameorigin softens his countenance before continuing.

"Now, as far as your identity goes, there isn't a name for you. Pick a name for yourself. I'd give you one, but I've been told my naming sense is horrendous!" Lord Flameorigin lets out a hearty chuckle.

"Huh? A name?" the woman thinks to herself for a moment, before realizing that she doesn't seem to have a name. Not, 'I have a name, and can't remember it', but full on, 'No, I don't have a name.' That obviously wouldn't work out, though; how would she function in society if people simply referred to her as 'her' or 'that woman with no name'? Or maybe 'She who shall not be named'?

Well, maybe pretty well. Being known as the no name person would probably be unique. She doesn't know how this society was set up, after all. Perhaps it would be no issue, but it would still be a nagging feeling at the back of her mind, telling her the situation isn't quite right. After some back and forth, she finally remembers her favorite name from her previous life.

"Cassandra," she finally answers. "Oh, right. Should I pick a clan or family name as well, or just a given?"

"Just a given. Unless you really want a particular clan name from your home universe, you'll simply receive the clanless name Doemik," says Lord Waveorigin curtly.

"Cassandra Doemik it is, then!" says Cassandra with a laugh. With a brief consideration into the name Doemik, though, she suddenly remembers the strange language she woke up hearing. "Ah, I almost forgot! When I woke up, I think I heard someone saying something really weird sounding. Was that you two?"

"Indeed," responds Lord Flameorigin. "What you heard was an incantation from a higher order multiverse, temporarily suspending local limits to enact the purpose we intended; based on your world's customs, you'd likely call this 'Fourth Dimensional Magic'. High level, at that. But that's a talk for another time. While you are a pet project for resurrection, ultimately this was just to alleviate our boredom. Er... Sorry, didn't mean to imply that you're just a plaything, of course! But what I'm trying to say is we didn't have anything planned after this point. So would you like to return to your original world? Granted, you're a new person entirely, so that may be difficult. There's also the option to stay in this pseudo-world."

"Hmm... I assume there's more than just us three in this world, right?"

"Yes, of course. I've never counted, but I've personally seen at least half a billion unique residents. Should be orders of magnitude more people than that, considering."

"Well, I was a shut in nerd in my old life, I think.... At least, I don't have many memories of leaving the apartment after moving in...." Cassandra says, contemplating what would be more ideal. "To its credit, I would be familiar with earth, and unfamiliar with this place. But at the same time, I get the feeling this place might be more... Fun, for lack of a better word. So that's my choice. I'll stay here." With resolve in her eyes and a smile on her face, Cassandra stands up out of bed for the first time since waking up.... Only to realize that she's naked. But the weird part was that while she was expecting herself to suddenly feel embarrassed from being exposed to guys like this, there really wasn't any feeling of shame.

'Hm... Oh. I see. I think I was a guy in my last life... No wonder I don't feel embarrassed being naked in front of these guys... Well, I suppose that's something to keep in mind.' Cassandra glances at Lords Flameorigin and Waveorigin, when she realizes that both of them were examining her naked body. That feeling of being inspected finally brought the discomfort of being seen naked that she was expecting before.

"Er... Guys? Can I get some clothes, maybe?" she asks them.

"Clothes? OH! Right! Sorry. We've seen your body already from being its creators, so I didn't think about that..." Lord Flameorigin explains, embarrassed.

"Of course you didn't," scoffs Lord Waveorigin, as he tossed a small bag over to Cassandra. "Here's some clothes. They should fit you. They're a fashionable design of this world. We have some business to attend to and have delayed too long already, so we'll take our leave now. Once you're done getting dressed, the servant waiting outside the door will lead you to your next destination." Lords Flameorigin and Waveorigin leave almost immediately afterwards.

Now free of distractions from the two fellows, and with no apparent pressure to rush, Cassandra finally takes a moment to look around the room. The room is nothing special at all. One bed, One night stand, One drawer in that nightstand, and nothing else besides. The color scheme of the room is gray scale, giving a drab feeling. Inside the beige bag, however, are some more colorful clothes. A set of light blue panties and bra, with a matching color undercoat that extended to the mid-thigh. The paired robe is primarily white, with sheer portions that allow the light blue underneath to appear as a cloudy sky blue on the outside, giving an illusion of lazy clouds drifting across the midday sky.

Checking in the drawer of the night stand, there is a small hand held mirror. Looking in the mirror, Cassandra finds herself (at least in her opinion) quite stunning, with a beautiful face, flawless skin, icy blue eyes, and blonde hair so light it almost looks white. Apparently Lord Waveorigin was matching her clothes to her hair? Despite this minor mistake in methodology however, the outfit still matches her perfectly, seeming like a natural extension of herself. She then put on a pair of white mid-thigh length stockings, before finally a pair of simple black shoes, somewhat resembling a cross between Mary Janes and a sneaker; trying to maintain the look of the former while adding the durability and versatility of the latter.

Fully dressed in the outfit, Cassandra exits the small room via the only door, and is immediately greeted by a man who looked like he was in his late eighties, dressed in what seem to be formal clothes; they're stuffy enough to be called so and were in pure black and white colors to boot. His face has a fair number of wrinkles, his hair is snow white, and his jowls are nearly reaching his shoulders, while his body is rail thin. But despite all these apparent features of infirmity, he stands straight and exudes an aura of dignity, grace, and power. While it pales in comparison to the auras of the two Lords, this servant's aura was more eye catching because of the perceived mismatch between his appearance and bearing.

"Ah, Young Miss Cassandra," greets the servant, before kicking it into overdrive on boot licking. "Very good, your clothing looks simply stunning on you. You're sure to be the envy of many of woman, especially with such beauty that outmatches even the most elegant clothing."

"Oh, thank you," Cassandra responds politely, but she doesn't feel anything in particular about being called beautiful. Clearly, the sucking up was delivered to the wrong person. However, the servant was nothing if not professional, and acts as if nothing was wrong.

"You are most certainly welcome, Young Miss. Now, if you'll kindly follow this one, it would be most appreciated. This one has been instructed to lead the Young Miss to the nearest WCA hub." The servant starts off at a quick pace, with Cassandra following closely behind him. Within a minute they were outside of what was apparently the palace, and heading into the city, which appears like an anachronistic mixture of architectures from all different cultures and eras. At least the sky looks like an earth sky, though Cassandra can't quite seem to find a sun despite the daylight.

After they left the palace, the servant was walking faster and faster unconsciously, until he was now swift enough that Cassandra is having significant difficulty keeping up. Finally, the servant realizes that she was simply a regular mortal, at least for now, and returns to what he felt was slower than a snail's crawl. Now down to a reasonable walking speed, Cassandra is able to catch her breath and ask the question that's been burning in her mind for the past few minutes.

"What's a WCA hub?"

"Ah, that would be a 'Waifu Collection Agency' hub. The Waifu Collection Agency is the organization that won recognition of the higher order multiverse, thus establishing hegemony over this multiverse."

*Gulp*

"Er... So... Umm... How do I put this... I'm not one of the 'Waifus' to be collected, right?"

"Hahaha! Of course not, Young Miss. Not unless you want to contribute a clone to the database, but most women are uncomfortable with the idea. Rather, all residents of this world are simply required to register with the WCA and collect an identity token. As for living expenses, the Lords have generously gifted the Young Miss with a sum of money that should keep you fed, clothed, and housed for a few cycles. Oh, a cycle is 500 days at 24 hours a day, so you know..." They continue talking, as the servant answers Cassandra's various random questions about living in this world.

Eventually, though...

"Ah! Here we are, the WCA Hub." Finally the two come upon a large tower, a 'futuristic' style design that spirals as it rises, like a twisted piece of taffy. It's outside in cast a gleaming white, with light blue tinted windows along the thinner sides, everything giving a feeling of 'Utopian Future' architecture. The most shocking thing about this building though is easily the size; It's hard to tell from a distance, but nearly the base of the tower, one can easily tell this tower is dozens of kilometers tall, with nearly two kilometers in width along the narrower dimension of the tower's base.