April 25th, 2025 — Palo Alto, California

The boardroom at Tesla Headquarters was unusually tense that morning. A large OLED display dominated the wall, showing a looping clip from CNN Philippines: rows of cranes rising over Subic Bay, the Philippine flag fluttering beside banners marked TG Mobility Holdings Co.

Across the bottom of the screen scrolled the caption:

TG Motors PH to produce LithiumX batteries — Southeast Asia's first gigafactory now under construction.

Elon Musk leaned back in his chair, eyes fixed on the display. "LithiumX," he said slowly. "That's the term they're using?"

Tesla's senior battery engineer, Raj Patel, nodded. "Yes, sir. From the reports, it's proprietary—some kind of next-generation lithium architecture. The supply chain references match ours—Panasonic automation, Albemarle for lithium hydroxide, POSCO for steel structures. But the chemistry isn't published anywhere. The press calls it 'LithiumX,' but there's no technical data."

"Which means it's either vaporware," Musk said with a faint smirk, "or they actually found something."

Patel glanced at the chart projected beside the video feed—an overlay comparing known battery metrics. "If they're telling the truth, twenty-eight gigawatt-hours by mid-2026 makes them one of the top five producers in Asia. That's not small talk."

Another executive, the head of supply chain, frowned. "Sir, if they're working with Panasonic, we'd know. We have overlapping supplier agreements."

Patel hesitated. "Panasonic confirmed their involvement—but only for automation and machinery, not chemistry. TG Motors is manufacturing its own cell design. And get this—they're building their own refinery in Subic. Not importing refined lithium. That's vertical integration from raw mineral to finished cell."

The room fell silent.

Musk's smirk faded. "So they're building what we built in Nevada—only faster."

Patel nodded slowly. "And cheaper, sir. Reports say their total cost is around seven to eight billion. That's nearly half of what ours was, adjusted for inflation."

Musk leaned forward, elbows on the table. "Find out everything about their 'LithiumX' cell. Materials, patent filings, research papers, anything. I want a report by next week."

"Understood."

As the meeting adjourned, Musk stood by the window overlooking the Fremont plant. Rows of Model Ys gleamed under the California sun. But his mind wasn't on Tesla anymore—it was on a young Filipino engineer halfway across the world, quietly building what might become his company's next real competitor.

Shenzhen, China — BYD Headquarters

Inside the glass tower of BYD Global, the executive boardroom was equally abuzz. On the screen, Chinese financial analysts discussed the sudden rise of TG Mobility Holdings.

"Subic Gigafactory… LithiumX… interesting," murmured BYD's Chairman, Wang Chuanfu, tapping a pen against his notepad. "They are using similar suppliers as us, but this LithiumX—no formula, no density metrics, no voltage data. It's all hidden."

His technical director replied in Mandarin, voice even. "It's a closed ecosystem, sir. The supply chain involves Albemarle, Panasonic, and POSCO. No public patent filings. Our team cross-referenced manufacturing registries—no existing blueprint matches what they're claiming. Even their cathode plant doesn't align with standard NCM or LFP production."

Wang frowned. "Meaning?"

"Meaning they've designed something new. Maybe solid-state. Maybe high-density lithium-metal composite. We don't know."

He leaned back, thoughtful. "If it's real, this could alter the balance in ASEAN. A full EV industrial chain in the Philippines—it gives them leverage. It gives him leverage."

"Timothy Guerrero," said one executive, scrolling through a dossier. "Twenty years old. Founded TG Mobility Holdings. Studied engineering but didn't graduate. No prior record of battery patents. Yet within months, he signed contracts with global conglomerates. How?"

Wang's eyes narrowed slightly. "It's not about age. It's about who funded him."

The boardroom went silent.

Santa Clara, California — NVIDIA Headquarters

The hum of data servers filled the sleek glass office as Jensen Huang stood before a large curved display, arms crossed. His assistant, Marcus Lin, walked in, holding a tablet.

"Sir, you need to see this."

Huang turned. The tablet showed a CNN Business segment replaying clips from Subic Bay.

"TG Mobility Holdings, a Singapore-based conglomerate, is currently constructing its first gigafactory, founded by Timothy Guerrero, a Filipino."

Hearing the name of Timothy Guerrero snapped something in his mind.

"The same Timothy Guerrero?"

"Yes sir, the one we bought the chip from, for 20 billion dollars," Marcus said. "I think he used the eight billion dollars to start his own automobile company."

"He's bold," Jensen rubbed his chin. "We kind of funded his company. Still, we haven't cracked the codes on his chip. There's not even a progress. I'm thinking we just wasted eight billion dollars on him."

"The engineering team is still confused about the architecture of the chip he handed to us. Months with no progress."

"That chip was supposed to be our trump card against our rivals. We will dominate the ai-technology the moment we crack it. But there are already rumors from OpenAI that they are considering partnering with AMD to meet up the power demand. If that happens, NVIDIA's market dominance could start slipping by next year."

"So what are you planning to do sir?" Marcus asked.

Jensen hummed in thought. There is only one way for them to make sure they get ahead of their rivals.

"I want to meet Timothy Guerrero myself, in person," Jensen revealed.

Marcus's eyes widened slightly. "You're going there personally?"

Jensen nodded. "Yes. I will ask him myself how to decode that chip he had given us in exchange for money. I'm sure if he cooperates, he'll get the remaining 12 billion dollars from us. It's going to be a win-win situation for both parties."

Marcus hesitated. "What should I tell the board?"

"Tell them I'm visiting a potential strategic partner," Jensen said calmly. "And tell R&D to hold all work on Project Helios until I return."

Project Helios, is the name they came up with to reverse-engineer the chip Timothy Guerrero sold to them.

"Yes, sir."

Marcus left his office, preparing the necessary paperworks of his departure to the Philippines.

Meanwhile, alone in his office, Jensen had a thought.

"If you truly know from the start how the technology was made, then you will be an invaluable asset to me."

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