Samsa fell to his knees in the tainted water. [i]Did my cell flood in my sleep?[/i] he thought, stirring the water underneath him with his hand. When he picked up his head, he found he was not in his prison any longer. Standing up, he peered to the left and right to see others around him, seeming to have burst forth from black pods. He looked up and around, scanning the pod he stood beneath, and realized that he had arrived the same way.

He stepped out into the hallway, his bare feet splashing in the water, finding a lengthy strip of a stone hallway, not unlike his prison. [i]This place is flooded,[/i] he thought, [i]which means I must be underground.[/i] He concluded that he must have moved somewhere, unless the entire city was sunken one hundred and fifty feet below the sea, a sea which he was not held anywhere near. He inhaled the rancid odor which filled the place; there were no windows here either. As he cautiously trudged further into the hallway, a drop of water dripped into his eye. Reflexively looking down, he found his age worn prisoner's rags were gone. In their stead, Samsa was dressed in a matching, ominously dark top and bottom. The top was loose, open, and sleeveless, while the bottom was ruggedly cut above his ankles, which was convenient for the situation at hand. 

Cheap and thin material though it was, it was new and refreshing. The black color was clear and solid, not faded by ages of wear, and contrasted with his pasty skin. It summoned images of his surreal journey in the darkness. He was reminded of his mother's beads, which he no longer had dangling in front of his chest. He thought, therefore, that it must have been a dream, and someone had relocated him in his sleep... and dressed him. 

A crumbled statue at the end of the hallway attracted his eye. He waded through the water, not noticing the others in the hallway, to observe it more closely. He found the upper body collapsed on the floor, while only the figure's legs remain standing. He ran his hands over it and certainly looked it over thoroughly to discover who the statue was supposed to represent, but a lifetime in prison provides little knowledge of the outside world. The figure's name would likely be of no use to him.