With the growing weight of unease pressing down on him, Musk found himself abandoning even his long-cherished goal of adapting to one hundred times Earth's gravity.
For the first time in years, he felt suffocated.
Another year on this planet… and he might lose something far more important than progress.
Freedom.
The Moon had already become his next destination. Not for ambition this time—but for distance. For silence. For one final calibration of his shuttle… and perhaps, of himself.
"Good evening, Master."
The soft, pleasant voice echoed beside him.
Musk didn't react.
He had created it long ago. What began as a simple assistant had evolved over the years into something far more sophisticated—but to him, it had long since lost its novelty.
The bracelet on his wrist shimmered faintly.
Forged from the strongest asteroid fragments, it was both a technological marvel and a companion that refused to age. Yet… there was no one left to impress.
Everyone else eventually faded.
Only it remained.
And perhaps that was why he still wore it.
Not for pride.
But to delay the feeling of being truly alone.
Far beyond his awareness, in a higher dimension, unseen observers watched.
To them, the passage of millennia was no more than a fleeting moment.
And in that fleeting moment, they had already reached a conclusion.
Among all humans, Musk stood at the pinnacle of intelligence.
Yet even so… he was still human.
His knowledge, though vast, was built upon the foundation of Earth. His logic, no matter how refined, remained bound by human limitations. Even his understanding of deep space was riddled with assumptions he had never questioned.
Ironically, he was proud of that very intelligence.
If the average peak of human intellect could be quantified as twenty-five… then Musk might reach sixty-five.
An extraordinary leap.
Yet still insignificant in the grander scheme.
But what one does not know… rarely troubles them.
Inside the shuttle, the AI came to life.
"Destination positioning…"
"Lock set."
"Takeoff authorization?"
Musk's voice was calm, steady.
"Affirmative."
The shuttle rose silently from the ground.
At half a kilometer above the surface, the air around it began to distort—not from instability, but from sheer force as space itself seemed to ripple under the pressure.
Then—
It vanished into the sky.
No roar of engines.
No trail of fire.
Only speed.
Satellites detected its ascent, but no alarms were raised.
Shuttles entered space every day—hundreds of them.
Exploration had become routine.
Humanity had long since tied its hopes of longevity to the vast unknown beyond Earth. Space was no longer a frontier—it was an opportunity.
And Musk… had long since stepped back from controlling it all.
He had built the system.
Now, he let it run.
The Safelites hovered in orbit, arranged in intricate formations unlike anything from his previous life.
Each unit amplified the others, forming a vast network capable of conducting deep-space sonar sweeps.
Even Musk had to admit—
Whoever designed it was a genius.
Within minutes, the shuttle pierced through Earth's atmosphere and surged toward the Moon.
Less than ten minutes later, it landed.
Effortlessly.
The energy cells powering it were terrifying in capacity—technology refined over countless years, drawn from forgotten eras and perfected through relentless iteration.
When the shuttle connected to the lunar residence grid, the entire structure pulsed.
Then, seamlessly, it switched power sources.
Musk stepped out.
Gravity was almost nonexistent.
But the moment he entered the glass residence, everything changed.
Gravity surged.
Three times Earth's standard.
To him, it was nothing.
To others, it would be unbearable.
He had designed it this way—for cultivation.
For control.
For growth.
The residence stretched across a 2.5-kilometer radius, enclosed in reinforced glass.
Inside was a self-contained ecosystem, untouched by external chaos.
Others had built similar structures on the Moon—but none matched his.
After all, he had designed the blueprints.
As he walked deeper inside, his gaze shifted.
In the distance, about a kilometer away, a figure sat atop a circular platform.
Sweat poured down her body.
Beside her, a number glowed:
14.5x Gravity
His only disciple.
The only person in this world he had chosen to teach.
Musk didn't approach immediately.
He simply observed.
Then, without a sound, he turned and walked toward the edge of the glass barrier.
A bag rested on his back.
From it, he retrieved a helmet.
He paused.
Then—
"Warning! Not wearing standard equipment. Warning! Not wearing standard equipment!"
The AI's voice echoed urgently.
Musk ignored it.