You think to yourself how Cassandra would probably help you out the most, as she was the nicest to you earlier- Caroline’s raw size and Catherine’s clumsiness scare you just a little bit. You run straight ahead, taking notice of the peculiar fact that Cassandra’s door is open for you to enter.

From how large the carpet appears to be, you hazard a guess at thinking you’re 5 inches tall. If you somehow guessed wrong, there wouldn’t be much you’d be able to do to defend yourself at this size.

As you draw near, you can’t help but notice some odd squeaking sounds. After you convince yourself that a family as wealthy as the Carriers wouldn’t have mice, you barrel forward.

After getting into the door, your jaw drops. From your current vantage point, Cassandra appears titanic. She’s sitting in a swiveling wheeled chair, like you would see in an office, her eyes glued to a computer screen. She’s biting her lip, watching whatever it is she’s looking at with rapt interest.

‘At least she isn’t sleeping’, you think to yourself. At your size, a sleeping Cassandra would be a deadly mountain that moved. Treacherous terrain, indeed.

Looking around the room, you first notice all kinds of artwork hanging on the walls- from Renaissance-style paintings to scientific sketches to obvious fanart of various series. All by Cassandra, apparently- every last piece of art in the room has her name signed in the bottom left corner. You have to forcefully pull your eyes away from a particularly interesting piece- while the characters pictured in it are from something you don’t recognize, you can’t help but wonder if the sexual position pictured therein is physically possible.

Against another wall is a bookshelf that would be of impressive size even if you were your original height. Every available shelf is stuffed to the brim with books of every description, from manga volumes to novels to a text on game theory. You note with embarrassment that you haven’t read more than six of the books on Cassandra’s shelf, and half of those were required reading back in high school.

Cassandra’s bed draws your eye, as well- the bed itself has plushies of enough anime and videogame characters that a single voice actor is probably represented at least six times. A small wooden chest at the foot has a charging dock for Cassandra’s phone and three different handheld game systems.

Offhandedly, you wonder when Cassandra actually reads her books, given everything else.

Cassandra begins speaking, which forces your attention back on her. “C’mon, c’mon, just freaking kiss! Your faces are half an inch away from each other! SHE’S. RIGHT. THERE. Stop teasing meee!”

You smile to yourself. You’ve had similar moments watching shows. You shake your head. ‘Now’s not the time. I need to get her attention,’ you think to yourself.

But, given how deep Cassandra’s obsessions run, you wonder if it would be wise to get her attention immediately. After all, her show has to end sometime, and you can always catch her attention later. Then again, there is always the imminent danger of something going wrong . . .