Chapter 10: The Quiet Evolution

Back in the reality of the village, Elías found himself drawn to a new, calming rhythm. Writing books had become his favored pastime, a quiet counterpoint to the relentless analytical hum of his mind. The village, he observed, was starkly different from the vivid, often terrifying landscapes of his dreams. It was more real, brimming with rudimentary emotions and simple thoughts that, surprisingly, offered their own complex patterns for his quantum brain to decipher.

With his customary cold analysis, Elías began his days early, meticulously crafting small books, each one a drop in the ocean that was the village's meager library. He filled the shelves, book by book, a silent act of generosity. Yet, the monotony of his previous task soon grated on him. He tired of the old librarian's mold, a symbol of his self-imposed obscurity. It was time for a change. His next creation would be a more youthful, larger mold, allowing him to embody a stronger, more capable presence if needed. His inherent detachment allowed him to create things he himself didn't fully comprehend, driven by an instinct for efficiency and adaptability. He was a different kind of child, untouched by conventional notions of maturity, unburdened by arrogance or pride.

Conscious of a subtle lack of conventional meaning in his isolated existence, Elías began to actively join the children. Through their eyes, he started to perceive a more colorful world, one where being "good" or "bad" at certain things held less weight. He observed that ignorance wasn't always a negative force; sometimes, it allowed for simpler joys, unburdened by the complexities of absolute knowledge. Elías found himself letting go of his habitual over-preoccupation, allowing his quantum brain to branch out, effortlessly weaving small, interconnected patterns from physics, biology, and even the study of stars. At his young age, he was already entirely self-sufficient, a quiet force of intellect and ingenuity.

As time passed, Elías found himself enjoying his rural life. The seasons turned, the crops grew, and the children around him continued to evolve. He was now eight years old. The initial spark he'd ignited in the children had transformed them. They were still rural kids, still deeply connected to their lives, but they were now notably more disciplined and eager to learn, a quiet testament to his influence.

With the same cold, calculating efficiency he applied to all his decisions, Elías recognized the potential in this growing pool of eager minds. He quietly decided it was time to take certain individuals under his command, not through overt power, but through the subtle, irresistible pull of knowledge and understanding. He would mold them, not into extensions of himself, but into vessels capable of carrying the unique insights his mind so effortlessly produced.

What kind of tasks will Elías give to these children he's decided to "command," and what immediate impact will this new hierarchy have on the village or their learning?