The Sound of Slow Collisions

Across two panels, two storms draw toward one another — mirrored in intensity, different in gesture. Swells of blue, grey, and red fold and scatter, moving in arcs that echo rather than unite. One form advances in a sweeping motion, the other holds its ground yet reached outward through a dark mark, the space between them charged with recognition. What unfolds is a convergence held just short of merging: the slow, suspended collision of forces that meet without becoming one