There's half a second where Carlisle reaches toward Kabal reflexively, as though to grab his shirt, a sleeve, anything to keep him from heading back in there; it's only belated does he realize that not only is Kabal not moving, but that he ought not touch him anyway, especially not when his energies are so unsettled.

"D- don't," he murmurs. "Don't go back in there. I will seal it, just- just give me a moment."

He digs through the satchel at his waist, grateful it remained largely above the water level, and pulls out piece of chalk. Though his lines are uneven, as his hands are still shaking, he starts drawing a glyph around the hole, feeling the tendrils of energy from beyond the threshold pulling at him. Unfortunately, when it comes to the part above the door, it's just out of his reach.

"I- I need a hand. Please."