You wake to the quiet sloshing of the water and gentle lapping of waves against the edges of the pool, a trickling which echoes seemingly endlessly off of the sound-reflecting surfaces of the tiled walls, and the faint scent of latex, chlorine, and slick vinyl.

Light pours out from brick cutouts in the wall with no definite source in particular, and looking around it seems that the pools around only really get to waist height at maximum. There are a few different directions to go, though down one of them there is a faint squeaking noise coming from the room at the end of one of the 'corridors.'