The world had been waiting for this moment for decades. SpaceX’s Starship stood on the launch pad at Boca Chica, the sun casting long shadows over its stainless steel frame. The first two tests had proven that the vehicle could reach orbit, refuel, and return. But time was running out. If the third launch didn’t happen now, Earth and Mars wouldn’t align for another 26 months. That was too long to wait.
Elon Musk, once the darling of progressivism, had become a divisive figure. His increasingly erratic statements, his open embrace of extreme ideologies, and—most infamously—his right arm raised at a Tesla event had shattered public trust. Some said it was a simple wave, a misunderstood gesture. Others saw it as something far darker. Either way, his empire had suffered.
But Musk didn’t care about PR. He cared about the mission. Mars needed to be settled.
Despite the controversy, the team worked tirelessly. Starship was ready. Yet this wasn’t a routine test flight. This third launch carried something different. Something secret.
T-minus 10 minutes.
Inside the crew cabin, Optimus-1 stood motionless. Unlike its factory-floor siblings, this humanoid robot wasn’t just a mechanical worker. It was alive, in the way that a program can be. Neural net algorithms trained on billions of interactions, synthetic muscle actuators finer than human nerve endings. Its mission was to be the first intelligence on Mars.
But it wasn’t alone.
In the cargo bay, a sealed black container sat secured. Inside, in cryogenic suspension, were the first human embryos ever sent beyond Earth. They had been edited, improved, selected for resilience in a Martian environment. Musk’s greatest secret wasn’t Tesla’s next AI model, nor an underground superhighway.
It was Homo Martis—the next stage of human evolution.
T-minus 2 minutes.
The world watched, half in awe, half in anger. Would this be the moment humanity took its first true step into the cosmos? Or was it a mad billionaire’s final defiance against a world that had turned on him?
The countdown continued.
T-minus 10 seconds.
The engines ignited. A low rumble grew into a deafening roar. Plasma erupted from the base of the rocket, sending waves of heat across the Texas sands.
Then—liftoff.
One Hour Later – Low Earth Orbit
Starship reached the parking orbit phase. Engineers on the ground checked every system. The public believed it was a simple Mars cargo flight. But in a hidden control room, only a handful of people saw what happened next.
A signal was sent.
Inside Starship, Optimus-1’s eyes flickered on.
Its prime directive activated. It turned to the embryo chamber. It would not simply transport them. It would raise them. Train them. Shape them.
For Musk, Mars was not merely an outpost. It was the beginning of something greater.
A future without Earth. A future without those who doubted him.
Mission Timer: T+3 days
As Starship accelerated toward Mars, an encrypted message played in the Optimus unit’s neural core.
“Make them better. Make them stronger. Humanity 2.0 begins now.”