The water wasn't real. That makes sense, he thinks, now that he's out of the water. It always makes sense after the fact.

He moves his shoulder carefully. "I think it is real," he says. "Much easier to built a turret than to flood a room with water. Or psychic energy, whichever they've used in this case."

He reaches up and puts a hand to her shoulder. She looks uninjured, but he'd be lying if he pretended he wasn't worried.

"We have to get out of here," he says.