For a long moment after Rogue stops reading, there's only the sound of his engine, the faint clatter-clack of loose gravel kicked up by his tires as he drove. Mutants. Rogue's world. He ran the possibility again, but parameters were too vague. For every data point that suggested this could be a Port-Out situation, another was there to contradict it.

The silence stretches until Knock Out finally says, "We don't know what this is yet. We don't have enough information. It wouldn't be the first time the Porter has played with hallucinations."