Chapter 2: Deeper Than Money - Descent into the Abyss

The salty spray stung Elon's face as he stood on the pitching deck of the research vessel, the aptly named "Iconoclast." Gone were the sleek lines of Tesla factories and the controlled chaos of SpaceX launchpads. Here, the ocean reigned supreme, a vast expanse of churning blue that mirrored the chaos brewing within him.

Months had passed since the discovery of the cryptic reference to mythril. Elon had poured his considerable resources into outfitting the Iconoclast, transforming it from a standard research vessel into a state-of-the-the-art submersible platform. His team, a motley crew of oceanographers, geologists, and even a conspiracy theorist with a surprising depth of knowledge about ancient myths, had grown accustomed to his relentless drive and occasional bouts of manic energy.

Dr. Anya Petrova, the ship's lead oceanographer, a woman with a steely gaze and a dry wit that rivaled Elon's, approached him. "We're nearing the target coordinates, Mr. Musk. The sonar readings are… unusual."

Intrigued, Elon joined Anya at the bridge's control panel. The holographic display flickered, revealing a vast underwater canyon unlike anything they'd encountered before. The sheer depth was staggering, the readings pushing the limits of the submersible's capabilities. But nestled within the canyon's depths, a faint anomaly pulsed on the sonar – the signature they'd been searching for.

"That has to be it," Elon muttered, a mix of excitement and apprehension in his voice. "The meteor shower's impact site."

The descent was agonizingly slow. Hours bled into each other as the Iconoclast plunged into the inky blackness. The crew, confined to the cramped quarters, felt a growing sense of isolation as daylight became a distant memory. Dr. Anya's usual calm demeanor faltered as the pressure gauge climbed precariously high. Even the ever-optimistic team engineer, a tech prodigy named Kai, couldn't hide the nervous tremor in his hands.

Finally, with a bone-jarring jolt, the submersible settled on the ocean floor. Silence, thick and oppressive, filled the control room. Elon, his heart pounding against his ribs, activated the external camera.

The sight that greeted them was breathtaking. The canyon floor was littered with fragments of an unknown, shimmering metal. It was far more than just a few scattered pieces; it looked like a celestial graveyard, the remnants of a shattered star fallen to Earth. Elon felt a surge of triumph, a validation of his seemingly outlandish quest.

"Bingo," he whispered, his voice echoing in the silence.

Suddenly, the submersible lurched violently. A high-pitched whine filled the air as a red warning light blared on the control panel. Dr. Anya swore under her breath.

"Hull breach! Pressure's dropping rapidly!"

Panic erupted in the control room. Kai scrambled to assess the damage, his fingers flying across the holographic console. Elon, his initial elation turning to ice, felt a surge of primal fear. Trapped at the bottom of the ocean, surrounded by a treasure trove of mythril and facing imminent death – was this the price of his obsession?

As the control room lights flickered and died, plunging them into complete darkness, one horrifying thought echoed in Elon's mind: Had they found the mythril, or had the mythril found them?