The corridor sloped downward like the dungeon itself was trying to swallow us. Each step took us deeper into the earth, and the water rose with every meter we traveled. What had been ankle-deep was now mid-thigh, cold enough to make my muscles protest and murky enough to hide whatever horrors lurked beneath the surface.
Movement became a slog. Each stride required actual effort, pushing against the resistance of stagnant water that seemed determined to hold us back. The chill seeped through our tactical suits, numbing legs and slowing reflexes. Combat in these conditions would be a nightmare.
I was in the middle of mentally cataloging our tactical disadvantages when my brain decided to take an unauthorized detour.
Oh.
Oh, that's nice.
