She's walking to the kitchen when it happens, alone in an empty house, no company except two warm presences in her mind. She's a bit tired from a day of remote work, untransitioned, getting deadnamed for money. But she loves helping people anyway, and loves the future she's saving up to build.
And then, without even the courtesy of a moment of discontinuity or a swirling hop through the Blind Eternities, she's in space.
She's in hard vacuum, with no suit.
Oh shit, oh shit, she's in space with no suit.
She manages enough presence of mind to buy herself about thirty seconds, though, by immediately exhaling every bit of air from her lungs.
She resets off of the panic, reassesses. Wow, space is great. Deadly, bitterly cold, but gorgeous. Does she have any way out of this unexpected mess?
Wait, is that something on her hand?