Chapter 2: The Spark and the Forge
Chapter 2: The Spark and the Forge
June 3rd, 2026.
Arthur stood still in the penthouse of the SpaceX executive suite, hundreds of stories above the restless sprawl of Los Angeles. The sun hadn't yet broken through the coastal fog, casting a pearlescent haze across the horizon. In the silence, a massive OLED screen on the wall streamed global news in near real-time—headlines bursting with speculation about his reappearance and Tesla's privatization.
He watched, calm and calculating, sipping a glass of hydrogen-infused alkaline water that shimmered with flecks of gold—purely aesthetic, of course. The world had seen Elon Musk return, but they hadn't seen Arthur. Not truly.
They saw the surface, he mused, his inner thoughts sharp and quiet. But they're still blind to the force behind it.
Tesla's share price was no longer a concern. He had bought it back at $27.5 billion without raising alarms—thanks to months of subtle shell acquisitions and AI-masked investments. The headlines had barely caught up. Elon Musk Takes Tesla Private: A Vision Beyond Vehicles. The masses were still absorbing that. They hadn't yet understood what it meant.
He turned his attention to a secured terminal—a holographic interface rose at his command. Dozens of buy orders were executing live, targeting SpaceX shares at $2,500 a piece.
"Phase Two," he said under his breath.
Five hours later, the final shares cleared. Arthur now owned 100% of SpaceX.
The financial systems were in awe. Analysts were dumbfounded. Commentators on X and YouTube offered conspiracy theories faster than facts. Some called it the greatest consolidation of tech power in human history. Others called it a mistake.
He simply called it... necessary.
The next morning, the world watched.
Arthur walked into the press conference with poise—not rushed, not staged. The suit he wore was woven from experimental smart-thread, form-fitting, pitch black, and subtly iridescent under light. Cameras flickered, reporters leaned forward. There was something about him—an aura, a gravity—that silenced the room even before he spoke.
"Thank you all for being here," Arthur began, his voice deep but smooth, calculated yet warm. "As many of you know, yesterday I completed the full privatization of SpaceX. Effective immediately, SpaceX is no longer a public company. There are no shareholders. Only vision."
Gasps rolled through the room.
A reporter from CNBC raised her hand. "Why take both Tesla and SpaceX private, Mr. Musk?"
Arthur smiled slightly, his gaze unblinking.
"Because innovation doesn't respond well to quarterly earnings reports. It responds to purpose."
He let that hang in the air.
"But that's not why I brought you here," he continued, stepping toward a glass podium. The lights dimmed. Behind him, the wall screen split into two massive renders: metallic blueprints, layered chemical formulas, and test data scrolling like divine scripture.
"I'm here to unveil two discoveries that will redefine the 21st century."
The room froze. Phones went up. Broadcasts went live to millions.
"The first," Arthur said, motioning to the left display, "is Mythion-Ion."
The screen pulsed alive with simulations of energy flow, extreme environments, and battery modules lighting up like stars.
"It is 10 times the energy density of lithium-ion, 10 times more thermally stable, and 10 times lighter. It works in the vacuum of space, under the Antarctic ice, and inside your next phone. And yet, it fits into the same form factor."
He paused, letting it land. The audience was locked in.
Arthur continued. "Its manufacturing cost is $5 per gram. But its value? $20 a gram. Why? Because it doesn't just power devices—it empowers civilizations."
He tapped the hologram, shifting to the right.
"The second," he declared, "is Neosteel."
Footage rolled of rods resisting gunfire, bending without breaking, surviving hypersonic wind tunnels and plasma torches.
"Neosteel is 10 times stronger than the strongest carbon steel, 10 times tougher, and 10 times more durable. And still, 10 times lighter. This alloy isn't made for the world as it is—it's made for the world we're about to build."
He looked out over the stunned crowd. "At $10 per gram to produce, and a market valuation of $200, Neosteel is the backbone of the future. From aerospace to architecture, from EVs to exoplanets."
A Bloomberg correspondent asked the inevitable. "What about Tesla cars? How will Mythion-Ion affect production?"
Arthur's face turned solemn.
"There won't be Tesla cars," he said.
The room rippled with confusion.
"Production ends today. Permanently."
Reporters burst into questions. Shouts rose. He raised one hand and silence followed like a wave.
"They're outdated. Fossils of a technological era that's ending. I refuse to build the past."
He continued, unshaken. "We are not iterating. We are redefining."
He left the stage to a storm of stunned silence and disbelief. There was no Q&A. There didn't need to be.
By midnight, the internet ignited. His X account gained 155 million new followers in under 24 hours—same for Instagram, YouTube, and even TikTok.
The hashtags trended globally: #ElonReturns
#MythionIon
#Neosteel
#TeslaNoMore
#Musk2.0
Conspiracy theorists went wild—"he's a clone," "he's an alien," "he's not Elon at all." And they were right. But they didn't know how right.
Arthur stood alone on the roof of the compound that night, hair brushed back by the winds of destiny. His physique—engineered perfection. His aura—unshakable. Earth-2 had seen the rebirth of Elon Musk. But in truth?
They had witnessed the emergence of Arthur De Santa.
And the world would never be the same.
To be continued…