They are here

I should never have looked up.

All my life I thought the silence of space was empty. One night I realized it wasn't silence. Patience was the game.

The sky tore like an old, worn cloth, and there were no stars on the other side, and something was lurking there, using them as a cloak.

The portal remained closed. Reality had just realized it had always been a lie.

Then they began to descend.

They didn't walk, they didn't fly, they just were... their bodies defied straight lines, their tentacles stretched at strange angles, each limb ending in an eye, each eye upon me.

They weren't many, they were infinite.

Someone stopped beside me. “I wasn't running,” he said, in a calm tone. He leaned back, staring at his own reflection as if observing an insect trapped in a jar.

He extended something that wasn't an arm.

When he touched me, I felt no pain.

I felt like I hadn't existed either.

I'm floating with them now.

I look down.