Perfect Equation ~ A fanfiction about Elon Musk

Autumn arrived with cooler breezes and longer nights. Priscilla stared at the calendar on her tablet, her fingers freezing momentarily over the screen. The days had blurred into a routine of SpaceX meetings and silent evenings beside Elon—each lost in their own universe, avoiding the subject that had hung between them like a storm cloud since that day.

It was while washing her hands in her office bathroom that the thought struck her like a shock:

"I should've gotten my period last week."

She dried her hands slowly, staring at her reflection. Her body never lied—no cramps, none of the usual signs. Just a strange emptiness, as if something had shifted without warning.

On the way home, Priscilla stopped at a pharmacy. She grabbed a pregnancy test like someone buying a secret, hiding it between vitamin bottles and a pack of watermelon gummies—the candy Elon hated but she loved.

John, the driver, kept his eyes on the road, but she swore she saw his gaze flicker to the plastic bag for half a second.

— Everything alright, Mrs. Musk? — he asked, noticing her tension.

— Perfectly fine, John — she lied, her fingers crumpling the bag.

The house was empty when she arrived. Elon was overseeing the latest Starship launch. Priscilla locked the master bathroom door and tore open the test with trembling hands.

"Three minutes."

She set the stick on the sink and stepped back as if it were a bomb about to detonate. Her Apple Watch pulsed seconds against her wrist like a countdown.

When she finally looked, two pink lines stared back.

Positive.

The air left her lungs.

This was natural. No genetic screenings. No control.

And then—the fear.

"What if...?"

The image of Nevada Alexander flooded her mind, followed by Elon's face the day Maye had revealed the truth. Her fingers brushed her still-flat stomach, imagining what he'd say.

Priscilla tucked the test into her purse, resolved not to tell him—not yet. She needed certainty first. A blood test. Courage.

And, most of all, to find out if Elon Musk was ready to face the one equation he couldn't control: chance.

MEANWHILE...

AT SPACEX

Elon watched the car's real-time data on the holographic display. Priscilla's heart rate (captured by the seat sensors) pulsed at 118 bpm.

He tapped the voice command:

— Reduce speed to 40 km/h. Lock doors.

The Tesla obeyed instantly.

In the corner of the screen, an alert flashed:

AUDIO RECORDING – FILE 5478 TRANSCRIBED
"...worried about his reaction..."
"...pregnant..."

His pulse spiked. His eyes landed on the only photo on his desk—face down. Without thinking, he flipped it: Nevada Alexander, 10 weeks, smiling.

His fingers hovered over the console.

— Activate SafeReturn Protocol — he ordered.

Priscilla's Tesla began recalculating its route—not toward home. To GenFuture Clinic.