Nathan Summers: A Biography; Entry 102, by Irene Merryweather

Nathan has been taking his mission more seriously these past few weeks. After the defeat of Apocalypse and the death of his human girlfriend, Stacey Kramer, Cable has become much more aggressive. He's killed and doesn't seem to care. His mission should be completed, but Cable said it hasn't. I fear for those that do evil...because Cable is most likely going to execute them without thinking twice! I suppose he has a reason to be so edgy, what with Stacey and all...I just pray Nathan can get back on the right track through this dark tunnel.

"...are you sure of this?" Blaquesmith asks Cable, while sitting cross-legged. He had previously been meditating until his pupil interrupted him.

"Yes," Cable says, "I want to learn how to use my telepathy more like a weapon. I know how to use my telekinesis...hell, even my techno-organic arm as weapons. But...my telepathic ability isn't up to par with Rachel or Jean...or Xavier."

"Well, first you must learn the nature of the mind," Blaquesmith says as he strains to get out of that uncomfortable position. "Jean Grey, as Redd, taught you how to use simple telepathic communication and maintain a degree of psionic shielding when you were a young boy,* correct?"

(* During the Adventures of Cyclops & Phoenix mini-series - Russ)

Cable nods. "It wasn't much, but it was the basic foundation of all I know today."

Blaquesmith hobbles over to his student's feet, bringing him to only knee-level on Cable. He says, "Well, there is much more you need to know, Dayspring. And I blame myself for never fully completing your training."

Cable smiles, "That's okay. I wasn't exactly cooperating. I was too busy waging a war on Stryfe's forces."

Blaquesmith doesn't smile, and continues, "Stryfe's telepathic ability was quite formidable. Sanctity trained him as an Askani, teaching him everything she knew. And it is a known fact that the techno-virus does not heed your telepathy. Training you in the full use of that ability will definitely be dangerous."

"There's a difference, I'm not Stryfe," Cable says coldly.

"His abuse under Apocalypse and his immense power corrupted him," Blaquesmith says, raising his voice. "I refuse to let that happen to you."

"Yeah, well less 'not gonna do it's', and more 'gonna teach me'," Cable says impatiently.

A dark alley somewhere in New York City...

"She's dead," a man with a trench coat answers. He takes a drag of his cigarette.

"What?" the shadowy figure asks. His eyes light up with violet energy.

"Whoa, hey! Don't shoot the messenger. The coroners said she was impaled through the chest by some kinda metallic material," the courier responds. "There was something weird about the metal they found in her corpse...it was sorta...I dunno, alive!"

The dark man steps into the light, revealing a bald, grotesque, and blue-skinned face. His eyes are dark, except for the tiniest hint of violet in his pupils. He wears an all-black business suit. His name is Deathglare, a name thugs everywhere fear. His authoritative voice seems to rattle the buildings around him. "This Cable person is stronger than I thought. I figured Gloom could take him out in two seconds flat."

"Well, I heard t'ings that she held her own for quite awhile. Cable was croaking," the messenger says, as he lights up another cigarette. He takes a couple drags, "Gloom woulda won. I mean, it was a fluke that he killed her. He had nothin' left!"

"Nevertheless, she failed. If I am to take over this city's underworld, I'm going to need a foothold in Hell's Kitchen," Deathglare says.

"What about that Daredev--"

"What about him!?" Deathglare yells as his eyes flash. "I can cause things to age and decay just by looking at them. A fairy in spandex ain't gonna stand in my way, an' neither is CABLE!" Deathglare activates his power upon the poor messenger. At first, he realizes nothing is wrong, until he sees the liver spots on his hands.

"What....are you....doing....?" the man says between breaths. Breaths that seem to get harder and harder. His hair goes white and he slumps to the ground. He tries to take a drag of his cigarette, despite his immediate problem, but Deathglare steps on the man's forearm.

"Living up to my namesake," Deathglare says with a scary smile. Deathglare lets the man go, since he's going to die in a couple minutes anyway.

Cable's safehouse...

Cable is seen meditating cross-legged and telekinetically hovering...upside down. Blaquesmith is in the same position right next to him.

"We will now travel to the Astral Plane," Blaquesmith says with his mind.

Cable relaxes his body, and seems to go into a trance. Within seconds, Cable's astral form emerges from his body. Cable watches his physical body for a moment as his surroundings seem to turn into a pale-blue, plain environment. It was the psionic plane. Psi-talents all over the world communicate in this plane of existence - this state of higher consciousness.

"So what do we do now?" Cable asks.

"We test your abilities," Blaquesmith says. "I want you to transform this place into a particular scene. Whether it be a forest, a lakefront, battlefield...whatever you wish."

Cable isn't sure what his mentor is asking. "What does this have to do with shutting minds down?"

Blaquesmith sighs. Cable's heard that all too often in his younger years, he may as well do what he's told. He concentrates, but gets frustrated. "How am I supposed to change the appearance of this whole entire place?! It's a whole bunch of nothing!"

Blaquesmith crosses his arms, insistent, "Well, take that nothing, and turn it into SOMETHING! All telepaths can do this."

Cable shakes his head, "I'm not so sure--"

"You CAN do this, Dayspring."

Cable lets go of any doubts and begins to form the astral plane into something tangible, at least to Blaquesmith and himself. With a payload of concentration on Cable's part, he transforms the immediate "area" of the astral plane into the forests of Ebonshire.

"I couldn't think of anywhere else," Cable says. "This was the place I first met Aliya."

Blaquesmith smiles slightly, "Well done. Now undo it."

"Easy," Cable says as he simply concentrates on the image, causing it to "erase". The plain blue shades that seem infinite return.

"I hope you understood the point of that," Blaquesmith says. "Now you can use the plane to shape illusions, and implant them directly into your opponent's mind. With practice, you'll be better than the rest of them."

"I could probe their mind to discover their worst fears and make it appear real to them..." Cable says to himself. "Tell me, old friend, why did I neglect this ability? The possibilities with it are limitless. It's so much more than reading minds and communicating with them. Sure, I've done SOME mind-manipulation...the only person I can think of is Sam, while he was being controlled by the Gamesmaster. I was dumbfounded when I was able to stop him, I didn't think I was that powerful. I also forced Joseph to use his powers against Onslaught."

Suddenly, Stryfe, Cable's long-dead clone, appears. He's smiling, not because he's a perky guy, he's psychotic - the worst kind. Cable and Blaquesmith remain motionless.

"What the--? That's impossible!" Cable exclaims.

The image of Stryfe then fades away, but the lasting impression on both Blaquesmith and Cable remain.

"Well, there's always something new to learn when you're a telepath," Blaquesmith says. "It was probably something from your subconscious. Stryfe was linked to your memories of Aliya."

"Yeah, because the bastard killed her!" Cable says as he closes his eyes.

"Anyway, speaking of Joseph...and the result of the Magneto War, how is the condition of your arm doing? I've been so busy with the final battle, I forgot to ask you.;" Blaquesmith says, changing the subject.

Cable holds out his left arm and rotates it, "Seems to be fine. The world-wide EMP that Magneto released caused the virus to go haywire, but with some help from Douglock, I got to learn how to control it better. I can manipulate it easier, too."

"As I've seen," Blaquesmith says. "You were rehabilitating your techno-organic parts for quite some time, I was hoping you'd get something out of it. Let us go back..."

Cable and Blaquesmith relax their astral forms, "descending" back into their bodies.

"Soon," Blaquesmith says, "you'll be able to discipline yourself to the point where you can control the minds of an entire crowd."

"What about getting past a psi-shield?" Cable asks. He's never really had any luck with shielded minds.

"Well, all you have to know is how a shield is established in the first place," Blaquesmith says.

"That's easy, all you do is focus your mind into a concentrated point within your brain, while at the same time, forming a psionic 'shell' around it," Cable says. "Getting around that is tough. I tried probing Gloom's mind, but she had so many psi-signatures I got a head rush."

"All you have to do is search for a weak point in the shell, breaking into it will be no problem," Blaquesmith says. "But there are some skilled telepaths that will put up multiple shells..."

"Multiple?" Cable asks worriedly.

"Yes, and each one gets harder and harder to break..."

Suddenly, there is a faint laughing noise. Blaquesmith and Cable's telepathy flare up. "What was that?" Cable asks.

"I can't sense anything....," Blaquesmith says. "Probably just the wind..."

"Are you sure...it sounded like the voice that--"

"What voice?" Blaquesmith asks.

"Some voice spoke to me when I was about to lose consciousness against Gloom," Cable explains. "It told me not to give up, and sure enough, I beat her...I killed her."

Blaquesmith rubs his chin in deep thought. "Did you sense anything with your telepathy when the voice spoke?"

"No..." Cable says. "But the voice definitely sounded like a psychic call..."

"I sincerely hope it isn't the Shadow King...," Blaquesmith says.

"Jean took care of him awhile back, I think...I hope."*

(* She sure did, back in M2K's own Uncanny X-Men #3 - Russ)

"HEY! I wanna watch wrestling!" Kenny yells, startling Cable and Blaquesmith.

"By the eternal one, children never change," Blaquesmith says as he hobbles off to work on a new weapon.

"Sorry Kenny, I forgot," Cable says. "I'll be there in a sec." Cable removes his belt containing all his charges, his psimatar, and other assorted items. He then slips out of his uniform into something more comfortable - a T-shirt and jeans. He goes into the living room and sits in the couch next to Kenny.

Cable ignores the voice and watches the television program. His telepathy tells him nothing is there, but Cable isn't entirely secure about it.

After watching the opening match, Cable says, "That was so fake..."

"No it's not!" Kenny protests. "It's real! Didn't ya see the blood? Did you ever see Mick Foley fight? Hell in the Cell? He was the kewlest!"

"Don't say 'hell' -- did I just say that?" Cable asks, confused. "Well, I'm sure all the fights are choreographed, but both fighters know who wins and loses before they get into the ring."

"It's still cool to watch," Kenny says with a smile.

"I guess," Cable says, laughing. "Just remember that you should never do anything like those guys..."

"What about what you do?" Kenny asks as he chomps on some hard candy.

"Definitely no!" Cable says. "My work is my work only."

As the next match starts, Cable asks, "So, who is this Triple H? And what's with the sledge hammer? Does he think he's Thor or something?"

"He's a bad guy. Stone Cold can beat him, he's his opponent tonight," Kenny says, enthused.

"Is that a hooker with him?" Cable asks.

"No, that's Stephanie McMahon, daughter of Vince, the owner of the WWF. What's a hooker?" Kenny asks.

"Never mind," Cable says, "let's just watch this 'Stone Cold' person kick some booty..."

NEXT ISSUE: Cable must face Deathglare whether he likes it or not! Meanwhile, Blaquesmith fights for his life!