The light had been rising, reaching somewhere as high as to their level. But something has been pushing down on it since their arguing - the harmonisation of Weather Report with the storm? Possibly.

...or, it might have something to do with patches of darkness appearing in the weather itself. Slits, and the amount of growing under the glaze of the water, disrupting the control that Weather Report is able to contain over the storm.

'Wh-what?' The voice from before speaks. 'Who is--guh!'

Jolyne's string will do well for the two when the storm breaks, torn apart between light and dark. They fall again, no weather to control - the storm they had been in above their heads disappearing as the darkness around it consumes it.

Darkness, but not an emptiness. A thousand strings and lines and a vastness surrounds them - and a multiple of opening eyes, all peering on them.

Someone speaks, no voice, but every word understood to them.

DON'T.

DEFILE.

TIME.
Some force grabs them, pulling, yanking - through time, through space, through the mess of it that they've become lost in. A noisy and unkind process, but Jolyne's string will make sure --

that when they get spit right out in the present, they'll be spat out together.