Happy Hogan.
Tony Stark's personal chauffeur, the Head of Security for Stark Industries, and his ever-loyal bodyguard.
This stocky man had always been by Tony Stark's side.
Even during the days when Pepper Potts left, he remained steadfast, proving his unwavering devotion—so might even say it was true love (controversial take!).
So when the words "Happy Hogan," "Christmas," "Oriental Cultural Theater," and "Extremis Bomb" connected in Kagura's mind, only one thought surfaced:
Happy Hogan is in danger!
Based on known information and predictions from the MCU universe, Happy Hogan had likely started tracking A.I.M. operatives after Aldrich Killian's recent visit to Stark Industries to see Pepper Potts.
There was no way Happy was in the Los Angeles Oriental Cultural Theater just to enjoy a play.
His excellent instincts must have led him there while tailing A.I.M. employees, trying to uncover whatever shady activities they were up to.
Whether by sheer bad luck or unfortunate coincidence, this very theater happened to be the next target of the Mandarin's Extremis virus attack.
As a result, the poor, overly straightforward Happy Hogan was about to get caught in a devastating explosion, leaving him gravely injured.
Kagura couldn't be certain whether events in this world would unfold exactly as they did in the MCU.
But rather than hoping Happy wouldn't be attacked, she was more worried about the possibility that this ti, he wouldn't just be injured—he might actually die.
That would be a huge problem!
Kagura quickly considered her options.
It was still early. The sun had just set, aning there was still ti before the attack on Happy Hogan.
If she could find a reason to leave this place, she could either take the Halo Transport Aircraft or drive there in ti.
The problem was: how to slip away from such an important dinner event.
"Hitomi, are you okay?"
Pepper Potts had noticed Kagura spacing out and asked with concern, "Are you feeling unwell?"
"N-no, I'm fine."
Kagura shook her head before quickly coming up with an excuse. "Uh... I need to use the restroom. Ahaha..."
Scratching her head in mild embarrassnt, she said, "Sorry, Mr. Stark, Pepper, I'll be right back!"
"Alright, go ahead."
Pepper smiled warmly.
........
Once in the restroom, Kagura locked the door and double-checked for any hidden caras or monitoring devices.
[Puppet Clone: Activate]
A soft blue glow radiated from her body, coalescing into a perfect replica of herself.
As expected, this skill was proving to be incredibly useful!
"Okay, listen carefully. Your mission is to act as if I never left. Stay with Tony Stark and Pepper Potts, enjoy dinner, and celebrate Christmas. Got it?"
"Understood!"
The clone smiled confidently. "Don't worry, real ! I'm your perfect copy—I won't ss up."
"Even so, I have to warn you."
Kagura folded her arms and gave the clone a serious look.
"Listen. You can celebrate, but be mindful of your personal boundaries. Whatever you do, don't let Tony trick you into his bed!"
"I wouldn't!"
The clone puffed her cheeks in protest, looking exactly like Kagura when annoyed.
"Good. Then I'm off."
Waving a hand, Kagura smirked. "Have fun."
[Full-Spectrum Electromagnetic Stealth: Activate]
———————————————————————
Los Angeles Chinatown – The Oriental Cultural Theater
The theater was an elaborate structure built in the style of traditional East Asian architecture.
Of course, aside from its outer appearance, it was purely an Arican creation—much like the famous 'fortune cookie.'
Just another Western reinterpretation of Asian culture.
After all, the average Westerner couldn't even distinguish between a Korean and a Japanese person.
It was no surprise they never bothered to research who actually invented fortune cookies.
Outside the theater, street vendors were selling various souvenirs and trinkets.
So people were leaving after a show, while others were arriving for the next performance.
Neon lights illuminated the bustling streets, where cars flowed endlessly, painting a scene of peace and prosperity.
Among the crowd, Happy Hogan was at a sunglasses stall, pretending to browse while secretly watching a suspicious bald man sitting on a nearby bench.
The man was fidgety, his nervous glances darting around as if expecting soone. His entire deanor scread unease and guilt.
Happy had tracked an A.I.M. vehicle to this location.
This sketchy guy imdiately caught his attention—there was a good chance he was involved in so shady dealings with A.I.M.
And sure enough, an A.I.M. employee, whom Happy recognized from Stark Industries, soon arrived carrying a high-tech black briefcase.
Walking straight to the bald man, he said, "Hey, man, I brought what you asked for. But are you sure you can handle its power?"
Happy's interest piqued.
He casually moved closer, discreetly activating his phone's recording app.
"No problem. I can control it," the bald man insisted. "I know this will heal , so I'll make it work."
"Are you certain?"
The A.I.M. agent narrowed his eyes. "If you lose control, the consequences will be severe."
"I understand."
The bald man nodded, accepting the briefcase.
"Well, don't say I didn't warn you."
The A.I.M. agent smirked, his expression carrying a sinister undertone. "Good luck."
"Thank you. I appreciate your help."
The bald man opened the case, revealing a small tallic container filled with a gaseous substance.
These were Extremis virus capsules, designed for direct aerosol infusion into the human body.
Clearly, this man had so kind of physical disability.
Upon hearing that A.I.M. had a way to cure him, he had reached out for help.
Now, he was about to inject himself with the Extremis virus.
However, A.I.M.'s Extremis formula was notoriously unstable.
If mishandled, it would cause a subject's body temperature to spike uncontrollably, effectively turning them into a walking, ticking ti bomb.
Unbeknownst to him, the batch he was about to inject had been tampered with—its concentration drastically increased.
The mont he administered it, a violent explosion would be inevitable.
That's right.
This poor man was just another pawn in the Mandarin's terrorist attack—a human Extremis bomb!
In the distance, the Halo transport aircraft was rapidly approaching.
Inside the cargo hold, Kagura checked her gear.
"Cortana, modify the 'White Moon' combat suit's appearance and color sche. Paint it black this ti, and add a cloak. I don't want it looking like 'Flash Blade.'"
"Command confird. Master, are you creating another superhero identity?"
"No. I just can't let Tony Stark know I'm here. Otherwise, my Clone's cover will be blown."
"Your plans are always so flawless, Master."
"...You're getting way too good at giving sarcasm."
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