For the lack of a better term, I would call the crystallization of the mind as souls… Now that I had siphoned their soul energy, the souls had become wraiths, invisible psychic echoes that would not do any harm, yet persist to annoy sensitive psychics. I eradicated the wraiths by flooding them with my telepathy.
Back on Planet Earth, telepathy had the least amount of applications… However, I proved otherwise it could be the most dangerous and most destructive power to ever exist. There were a lot of fools who thought it was superpowers that determined a super's capabilities, but it was the other way around.
Depending on how many abilities you could derive from your main one, and as long as you were capable of growth, it was more or less a sign that you were powerful. And I am powerful.
I was surrounded by the corpses of the Frost Fire Sect members… I ignored the dead Vajen and gathered pieces of skin and flesh from the dead.
1400 years ago when I was struck into a rut, I had a psychotic episode where I began researching Patchwork Technology, it was a term I decided on the basis of recreating a Frankenstein Monster with the hopes of resurrecting my daughter, but it ultimately failed.
After collecting enough skin and flesh, I began my cosmetic surgery… Soon, I created a body that I could wear— the final product was the body of an elf with dark hair. This elf looked exactly like the elf I was disguised as, except for the color of the hair. There were no blondes among the dead. Using mass psychic suggestion, I should be able to fool the elf village into thinking I originally had black hair.
My psychic illusions were flawed so it would be better if I wore this meat suit than purely rely on my psychic illusions.
If I were to use my raw psychic power, I tended to overwrite my psychic illusion. The illusion too could be dispelled with a touch if I didn't see it coming. Heck, even good judgment and a good eye for things should be able to bypass it if I were to refer to my time on Planet Earth when specialized detectives would abruptly come at me.
I used my dark robe to summon and unsummon the meat suit. The robe was the result of my extreme knowledge of Patchwork Technology. By using the skin of teleportation-class psychics and a shadow of a unique-type super, I was able to create a mutant cloak with its self-driving artificial intelligence, or AI for short.
AI technology on Earth was advanced enough to apply it to organics, and I was able to derive a trick or two from it… Programming my robe wasn't so hard either since it was mindless. The fact that it had spatial folds roughly half the size of a basketball court was a great boon too.
While wearing my meat suit, I returned to the elf village. As I made my way through the forest, I bumped into Irene. She seemed annoyed, her brows furrowed and lips pressed into a thin line. I knew why. I felt her presence lingering around the battlefield. Maybe she either wanted to watch my fight or join, but I couldn't let her. So, I created a psychic barrier around the battlefield, something which also ensured my opponents wouldn't be able to flee.
"Irene," I greeted her casually, though my tone held a hint of caution.
Irene's gaze sharpened as she assessed me. "Have you defeated the invaders?" she asked, her voice tinged with impatience.
"Yes," I replied curtly, keeping my expression neutral within the confines of my elf-like facade.
"Hmmm… nice hair… anyway, to think you were such a powerful Gifted… The tribe was fortunate to have you." As she spoke, I couldn't help but notice the way her eyes flickered over me, as if searching for something. Was she suspicious? Or merely curious?
"Irene," I began, choosing my words carefully, "there's something I need to discuss with you."
She tilted her head, a curious expression crossing her features. "What is it?"
I was thinking of using hypnosis to make her think I always had black hair, but I think a soft lie would be better, thus altering my plans. Using hypnosis leaves marks and traces after all. Moreover, it would be less of a hassle if I explained that a part of my power was the reason the color of my hair changed while in battle.
It wasn't technically a lie either as my hair changing its color had been a part of my power from the beginning. The elves were ignorant of super matters, which helped my case more.
"So what is it?" Irene repeated.
Before I could respond and explain my situation, Irene lunged at me. My instincts screamed at me to defend myself, but instead of attacking, Irene surprised me by pressing her lips against mine. Shocked, I pushed her away, creating some distance between us.
I almost mind-blasted her. Stupid girl. Sigh… I am not young anymore, and she 'looked' like the age of my daughter when I lost her. I had become aware the elves' have a long lifespan, but it was out of the question.
"What are you doing?" I demanded, my voice tinged with confusion and frustration.
Irene's expression was a mix of surprise and hurt. "I thought... I thought you felt the same way," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. "I mean I could be your reward. You helped the tribe, the village. If you wanted to, you'd be chief, and you would have every woman in your bed."
As a 'Gifted', one capable enough to contend with the Frost Fire Sect and come back unscathed, I just raised my value in the eyes of these elves, so I understood where she was coming from.
I shook my head, feeling a pang of guilt. "Irene, I..." I hesitated, searching for the right words. "I appreciate your feelings, but I can't reciprocate them." I also understood the elves' situation with their extremely few numbers and their desperation for protection.
Irene's gaze faltered, her shoulders slumping slightly. "Why not?" she asked, her voice barely audible.
I took a deep breath, steeling myself for what I had to say next— though I was generally apathetic and emotionless, there were some human parts of me that I resisted abandoning. "Because there's only been one woman I've ever loved," I admitted quietly, my soul trembling with emotional intelligence. "And she's not here."
Well, there were actually two women if I were to add my daughter, but to me, my daughter had always been my little girl, so she didn't qualify as a woman.
Understanding dawned in Irene's eyes, and she nodded slowly. "I understand," she said, her voice tinged with sadness.
I reached out, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Irene, you're a valued member of the village," I said sincerely. "And you offering yourself might be the right move, but I think you can do better…"
She nodded again, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "You're right," she agreed softly. "Thank you for being honest with me."
This world was too primitive for my liking, and the societal norms were flawed… I wouldn't force my ideas into this world, but I knew a system was flawed if the people could not even see the choices available to them— it corrupted their free will, caging their perspective into a thought that the only choice available was the one presented to them.
In Irene's case, it was to offer herself to me… but she could do so much more.
To the other elves, they saw her as their role model— their idol. It almost reminded me of Heroes back in my world who had inspired many and countless. I sighed… again. It was an old man's habit to sigh, right?
It seemed society in this world would need a bit of patchwork too… not that I cared much, but this could be an opportunity. The elves were an opportunity to me, but how I would use them, I would leave it to fate to decide for them.