The water was cold, dark and silent except for the hiss of his own breathing. Eastiel descended through the murk with ease. He had done this over and over again, after all.
His dive light cut a pale cone through the gloom, scanning the dam's inner walls that were rising around him like the bones of some ancient leviathan.
Concrete and steel. Then he saw the contrast of black corruption bleeding through the cracks.
The sluice gate loomed ahead. Even through the silt and the shadows, he could see the damage. The hydraulic seals were warped. The gate's alignment had shifted by several centimeters, just enough to let the corruption seep through.
Not a catastrophic failure. Or at least, not yet. But if they didn't patch it now, the pressure would build, and the gate would buckle, and the entire reservoir would be compromised.
He gestured to Reyes, two quick hand signals, and the younger diver nodded, already moving toward the seals.
