[Michael frowns, wanting to protest, but what can be said? She's right; they probably can't do anything about what's in the urn, but they can work on getting out of here faster.

Though Michael's starting to have a little trouble keeping his powers stable. Time kind of flickers in and out of being still a couple of times, and he grits his teeth, following.]

I don't think I can hold on much longer. [Not without pushing himself too hard, and the last thing they need right now is the burden on him fainting on them.] A few more seconds, and I think I should drop my powers and we just make a dash for it.