Chapter 25: Discovery
"We are not cowards, but what we face now is a terror beyond understanding. It has no banner, no single face…"
In Tony Stark's underground lab, on a holographic news screen, the US president is delivering a national address.
His solemn expression flickered and suddenly turned to static. A moment later a strange image forced its way onto the screen.
The background resembled an ancient Eastern temple. A robed man with a long beard and fingers full of rings sat calmly on an ornate chair.
His voice came through a heavy voice modulator, carrying a rasping tone that felt like an archaic prophecy.
"Some call me a terrorist. I consider myself a teacher. America, your war games are over. Because I have arrived."
On the wall behind him was a sigil: two crossed scimitars encircled by ten rings.
The Ten Rings.
Clang.
The torque wrench slipped from Tony's hand and hit the steel floor with a sharp sound.
Mechanical arms controlled by JARVIS continued assembling armor parts without pause, sparks flying while motors hummed. It all blended into the familiar industrial rhythm of the lab.
But Tony didn't hear any of it.
The moment that symbol appeared, the world around him muted. Only the heavy pounding of his heart remained.
The cold cave in Afghanistan came rushing back. Damp stone. Oil and blood in the air. Car batteries on a table, crude tools scattered around, and the electromagnet in his chest threatening to kill him at any moment.
That emblem had been printed on the flags of the men who kidnapped him. On the patches of every brute who dragged him across the cave floor.
It was where the nightmare began.
"My name… is the Mandarin."
The man spoke with the cadence of a preacher, announcing his next attack. The scene shifted to a destroyed military base, flames roaring skyward and thick smoke billowing over the ruins.
Tony snapped out of his trance and lifted his hand with a sharp motion.
"JARVIS, shut it off."
The hologram vanished. The lab returned to its normal lighting, though the chill from that cave still crept up his spine and gripped his heart.
He had thought the Iron Man armor buried those memories forever, but the past had found him again.
"Sir, your heart rate is exceeding one hundred forty beats per minute. Your blood pressure is rising rapidly." JARVIS spoke with perfect neutrality, which somehow irritated Tony more than comforted him.
"I'm fine."
He crouched to retrieve the wrench and tried to tighten a bolt. His fingers trembled, and even that simple task turned difficult.
······
Meanwhile, at Stark Industries headquarters.
Happy Hogan, former bodyguard, now Head of Security, is staring intently at the wall of security monitors.
His suit was freshly pressed, his ID badge gleamed, and he had shaved until his jawline looked sharp enough to pass inspection. He worked hard to match the dignity of his new title.
His responsibilities had shifted. He no longer watched over his troublemaking boss twenty-four hours a day. Now he was in charge of the entire company's safety, especially… protecting Miss Pepper Potts.
On the screen, Pepper was speaking with a visitor in one of the meeting rooms. The man's name was Aldrich Killian, someone claiming to be a scientist.
Handsome. Smooth-talking. Hair styled to textbook perfection. Happy stared at him through the feed and disliked him instantly.
Killian was presenting a holographic projection: a glowing diagram of a human brain.
"Extremis. It unlocks the abandoned repair commands inside the brain. It can regrow lost limbs and even rewrite the body's DNA," Killian explained with a polished confidence.
Pepper leaned in with a polite smile and genuine curiosity.
Happy curled his lip. Limb regeneration? It sounded like something a street quack would promise.
He looked at Killian's overly enthusiastic face, at the increasingly close distance between him and Pepper, and an inexplicable anger surged within him.
He pulled out his phone and called Tony. The call rang for a long time before it connected.
"What is it?" Tony's voice sounded distant, metal scraping in the background.
"Boss, it's me, Happy." Happy lowered his voice, like a tattletale elementary school student. "There's this Killian guy bugging Pepper. Claims he can grow people new arms and legs. I'm telling you, he's a fraud. Looks like a male model or something. I don't trust him. Do you want me to…"
"I'm busy, Happy," Tony cut him off, sounding worn out.
"Pepper can handle herself. If he actually bothers her, she can call security. You are security."
The line went dead.
Happy lowered his phone, stunned. He knew the boss hadn't been himself lately, but being brushed aside like that still stung.
He was Happy Hogan, head of security for Stark Industries. Was his judgment really worth so little?
No. If Tony couldn't be relied on right now, and Pepper was too kind for her own good, then he had to handle this personally.
From that day forward, Happy kept a close watch on Killian. With his position, he pulled every file he could find. Killian turned out to be that scientist Tony ditched at the Swiss New Year's party back in 1999, but everything else in his record was spotless.
Too spotless.
No real genius went through life without leaving a few questionable stains.
The chance he had been waiting for came sooner than expected.
A few nights later, Happy noticed Killian's driver and bodyguard, a man named Eric Savin, heading out alone.
Happy had seen Savin before. The man's stare was sharp enough to cut glass and always made him uneasy.
Without overthinking it, he climbed into his car and tailed him from a distance.
Savin drove all the way to the Chinese Theatre in Hollywood. The place was packed. Spotlights, camera flashes, crowds of excited moviegoers… a premiere was underway.
Savin didn't go inside. He parked in a dim corner by the side of the building, grabbed a silver briefcase, and slipped into the crowd.
Happy parked his car on the side of the road and followed. He pushed past tourists and fans, eyes locked on Savin's tall frame.
Savin finally stopped in a quiet hallway where another man was waiting.
The man looked nervous. Pale face, sweaty forehead, hands rubbing together without pause.
"You got it?" he asked in a shaky voice. His name was Jack Taggart.
Savin opened the briefcase without a word. It wasn't cash or weapons. Inside lay rows of glowing injectors filled with a faintly luminous fluid.
"This is the latest batch," Savin stated while handing him one.
"Take it and your problem goes away."
Taggart accepted the syringe with trembling hands like it was his last hope of survival.
Hidden behind the corner, Happy felt his pulse spike. Extremis! Killian's so-called Extremis. And they were trading it here of all places.
He took a deep breath, adjusted his suit and tie, feeling like a lone hero in a movie. He couldn't wait any longer. He needed proof.
He stepped out boldly, blocking their path.
"Hey. You two. Mind letting me take a look at that?" Happy tried for an intimidating pose and tapped the side of his hip as if a gun were holstered there.
Startled, Taggart nearly dropped the syringe.
Savin's stare sharpened instantly. He recognized Happy.
"Stark's lapdog."
"Head of security," Happy corrected, reaching for the briefcase.
"According to regulations, suspicious and illegal items like that need to be taken into my custody."
Savin moved faster than he could track. Instead of dodging, he launched a punch straight at Happy's face.
Happy had boxed for years and lifted his arm instinctively to block.
But the force behind the blow was unreal. It felt like taking a sledgehammer to the forearm. His hand went numb.
"You—"
His protest never finished.
Savin's second punch slammed into his abdomen, folding him like a boiled shrimp.
Savin didn't pause. He grabbed Happy's collar, lifted him up like a chicken, and slammed him hard against the wall next to him.
Bang!
The impact echoed.
Happy's head hit the wall, and he saw stars. But stubbornness was the one thing he had in abundance. He clung to Savin's arm with all the strength he had left.
Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted Taggart, who had already taken advantage of the chaos to run away. Only one thought rang in his mind: Don't let that briefcase disappear.
"Let go."
"You first—"
Savin didn't bother listening. His free hand snapped to Happy's throat, squeezing hard. Air vanished from Happy's lungs. His face flushed dark red as pressure built in his skull.
Just when he thought his vision might go black, Happy mustered every bit of strength he had and kicked Savin's knee.
Savin didn't seem to expect him to still have the strength to resist. His knee buckled, and the force in his hand loosened slightly.
Happy tore himself free and stumbled toward the fallen briefcase. He wasn't winning this fight, but he didn't need to. He just needed the evidence. It was his duty as head of security, his promise to Tony and Pepper.
He grabbed the case and barely steadied himself before a crushing force slammed into his back.
Savin's boot connected viciously, launching him forward. Happy crashed into the steps outside the theatre, the briefcase bouncing away and rolling across the ground.
Tourists screamed and scattered.
Happy tried to push himself up but coughed blood instead.
Savin approached with slow, deliberate steps.