Reyn woke up falling again because, she thought, that was her life now.

  This place wasn't a place. It was the space between spaces, where lost things gathered like lint in the universe's pocket. Single socks tumbled past in an endless parade. Keys of every description formed constellations that jingled mournfully. She passed through a cloud of final words that no one had been brave enough to speak, each one a small, personal tragedy floating in the dark.

  The architecture of reality revealed itself here, or so it seemed to Reyn. Not architecture exactly, more like... she turned her head and saw endless gears grinding against each other. Looked again and they were now threads weaving through dimensions. Another glance showed waves of probability crashing against shores of causality. The structure changed based on how she expected structure to look.

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

  Beings that reminded Reyn of jellyfish drifted through this space, if jellyfish were made of collapsed stars and broken moons. They tended the mechanisms with appendages that existed in more dimensions than Reyn could process. One drifted near, its bell pulsing with colors that made her teeth ache in her ears.

  They didn't see her. She was just another lost thing, falling where lost things fell. The jellyfish creature's tentacles passed through her as if she wasn't even there at all.

  Reyn fell directly through its center, which felt like being turned inside out by someone who'd only heard descriptions of what "inside" and "outside" meant.

  She closed her eyes before the colors would burn the insides of her head, and prepared to be devoured by a construct of... everything, and nothing.