~Tennessee, Countryside Estate~
Under the pitch-black night sky, this vacation villa standing in the desolate wilderness appeared empty and quiet, but in reality, it was heavily guarded like a dragon's pool and tiger's den, filled with terrifying dangers...
Burly and well-trained security guards armed with submachine guns patrolled the perimeter in groups of three, accompanied by fierce guard dogs. Shifts changed every hour, and every corner was monitored by infrared cameras.
The security system was so tight, that it would be extremely difficult for anyone to infiltrate...
"We turned the Stark mansion upside down but found no body. Maybe he's buried at the bottom of the ocean, along with all those Iron Man suits."
In the ornately decorated study, Killian listened to the report over the phone, his brows gradually furrowing into a deep frown. He was clearly dissatisfied with this vague answer.
The reason he had partnered with these people in the first place was their extensive covert connections and their ability to leverage powerful influence within the government. Otherwise, where would he have found so many professional soldiers as test subjects for the Extremis virus experiments?
Hiding a terrorist organization within U.S. soil, evading the FBI, CIA, and S.H.I.E.L.D.'s relentless scrutiny, hacking into television networks at will, hijacking airplanes, orchestrating multiple bombings... these were feats far beyond Killian's capabilities alone.
After all, since 9/11, the U.S. had placed extreme importance on homeland security, even launching the "PRISM" program to conduct mass surveillance and access classified information from any region within the country, directly mining data from the central servers of internet companies.
Without the protection and assistance of internal forces, the Mandarin and the Ten Rings would have been exposed long ago. They would never have been able to fire a cruise missile at Tony Stark's mansion, nearly blowing the Iron Man to smithereens.
"I want a definitive answer," Killian emphasized, "Proceed as planned. Stay in touch."
Truthfully, he didn't want Tony to die just yet. Remembering the humiliation he had suffered, this rising star of the tech world longed to personally crush Iron Man, to trample his dignity underfoot just as Stark had once done to him.
Killian hung up decisively. He had been collaborating with that mysterious organization bearing the Hydra insignia for some time now, and they had come to understand each other well.
After bankrupting himself to purchase the Extremis research from Maya Hansen, Killian had thrown himself into the project wholeheartedly.
Somehow, he had caught the attention of Hydra, and the two sides hit it off immediately. With massive funding and manpower, they had finally succeeded in applying the technology to human subjects.
Though the rejection issues with Extremis had never been fully resolved, neither Killian nor Hydra cared. They could create an unstoppable super army at any time. As for the lives lost in the process... who cared?
Killian strode out of the study. The main hall had been set up like a broadcasting studio, with spotlights overhead, cameramen adjusting their lenses, and others meticulously arranging the set. The Ten Rings emblem was emblazoned on the walls, antique carpets covered the floor, and beside an ornate sandalwood chair stood two bronze-cast Eastern totems.
The Mandarin's persona was that of an Easterner descended from Genghis Khan, with a British noblewoman for a mother. Orphaned shortly after birth, he was raised by his uncle.
Thus, Killian had to ensure everything was perfectly staged so that the washed-up actor they had hired could convincingly portray the feared terrorist leader... the legendary and deadly Mandarin who had even brought down Iron Man, a man whose will none dared defy.
Clad in a black robe and wearing ten rings, the 'Mandarin' stood ready. This down-on-his-luck British actor, whose real name was Trevor Slattery, had once performed in Broadway plays.
Like most struggling actors dreaming of stardom, Trevor had languished in obscurity, never catching his big break. His only vaguely memorable role was as a Russian cop in CBS's 'Anger Management', but after a poorly received pilot, his scenes were cut entirely.
By chance, Killian had encountered this third-rate actor wallowing in self-pity. Finding his appearance fitting, he decided to cast him as the terrorist who would strike fear into the heart of America.
The Mandarin!
In truth, the name should have been translated as 'Mandazhuen', but due to transliteration quirks, most Americans preferred 'Mandarin'
From that moment on, the actor Trevor Slattery ceased to exist, replaced by the Ten Rings leader Mandarin... an ambitious, world-destroying villain.
Two women dressed in cheongsams lifted the Mandarin's hood, revealing a hooked nose, deep-set eyes, a thick beard, and hair tied into a traditional Chinese topknot. His grim expression exuded authority.
This was the leader of the Ten Rings, the mastermind behind the wave of terror attacks that had plunged a nation into shadow.
Killian nodded in satisfaction. Next, Hydra would hijack signals across the Eastern Seaboard and issue a direct threat to the White House. Their goal was to plunge the country into crisis, just like the Kennedy assassination, removing uncooperative figures and installing their own people.
Political games were incredibly complex. They were full of scheming and power struggles.
Yet, they were also brutally simple... provided one had the strength to flip the table and rewrite the rules at will.
This was the agreement between Killian and Hydra. Once the new president and cabinet took office, they would hand over the Ten Rings and the Mandarin to appease public outrage, while silently consolidating power. With an Extremis-enhanced super army and AIM's bright future, crushing Umbrella and toppling Stark Industries would be child's play.
"Tony, it's a shame you won't be here to witness this." Killian spoke with deep regret.
He longed to see the look on that arrogant Iron Man's face when the empire his family had built came crashing down.
Perhaps Stark would kneel at his feet, begging for mercy. That was what the founder of AIM imagined...
New Year's Eve in Switzerland, 1999, remained an eternal wound in his heart. That night on the rooftop had irrevocably altered the course of his life.
Killian had once idolized Tony Stark, viewing him as the world's greatest genius, a figure to be worshipped. But Stark had crushed his dignity underfoot, grinding it to dust without a second thought.
"Master, the overture to your return has begun," Killian said excitedly into a secure phone line as he stepped out of the hall, "This nation will grovel at your feet, awaiting the return of its true king."
His voice trembled with reverence, but the response was cold and indifferent, as if unmoved by Killian's grand proclamations.
<...Have you achieved your revenge?..>
The cold voice asked.
"Yes. The greatest gift Tony Stark ever gave me was despair." Perhaps intoxicated by impending victory, Killian's voice shook as he continued, "That night in Switzerland, I stood on the rooftop. For the first twenty minutes, I still believed he would come. Then an hour passed... I wanted to take that step, to let myself fall."
"...In that moment, as I looked down at the city, I realized no one cared about me. No one even noticed me. But then you appeared, offering me a reason to live... I did as you instructed. I hid in the shadows, and pulled strings from behind the scenes until the day gods descended with hammers from the sky. Asgard revealed itself, and the time for hiding ended. The world stage awaits us!"
<...Ambition clouds your judgment. Stay focused, Killian...>
The voice on the phone remained detached.
<...You chose this path. Now bear its consequences...>
"I understand, revered Mandarin," Killian replied in flawless Mandarin.
Every legend had its origins. The Ten Rings, the Mandarin... these were not mere fabrications.
Hanging up, Killian checked the time, a cold smirk curling his lips...