A certain district, the slums.
Dark clouds blanketed the stars, and oppressive darkness shrouded the streets. The pitch-black alleys were narrow and cramped, with uncollected garbage piled at every corner, filling the air with a heavy stench. The already dim streetlights flickered constantly from aging wiring, while a cold wind threaded through the dilapidated old buildings.
A well-trained team of agents silently infiltrated one of the buildings, swiftly climbing the crumbling staircase. They all wore black combat uniforms, with S.H.I.E.L.D.'s distinctive eagle emblem printed on their sleeves.
The team spread out along the fifth-floor corridor. Grant Ward, a Level Seven Agent who wore a perpetual scowl and a thick beard along his jaw; Melinda May, a female agent once known as The Cavalry and an Action Specialist. They were the highest-ranking S.H.I.E.L.D. agents present and the leaders of this operation.
The two stood guard on either side of Room 502. Nearly all the paint had peeled from the ancient wooden door. The agents exchanged silent signals and glances as they counted down to breach it, several gun barrels simultaneously trained on the old door.
Ward spun around and kicked the door in. The wooden door let out a mournful creak and toppled inward, kicking up a thick cloud of dust. He raised his gun in a steady, textbook motion, his flashlight cutting a golden path through the swirling dust.
There was only one room beyond the door. It was unlit and pitch-black, seemingly empty. The room contained only a table, a computer, a wardrobe, and a simple wooden bed that had not been made.
Ward swept the room with his flashlight. After confirming that no one was there, he stepped inside first, with Agent May close behind. Their tactical boots made the aged floorboards creak beneath them.
"Looks like we were a step too late," Ward said, turning to May. "Creel is gone."
Agent May frowned but said nothing. She still held her breath as she slowly searched the cramped room with her flashlight beam.
Just as her light was about to reach the wardrobe, the "wardrobe" moved! Or, more precisely, something clinging to its outer surface moved. A burly shadow lunged forward like a jackal lurking in the dark, the force of its motion whipping the floating dust into a vortex.
It was Carl Creel, the superpowered individual codenamed Absorbing Man. He had transformed his body into the same material as the wardrobe and pressed himself tightly against its surface, like a cunning chameleon.
Perhaps someone had leaked the information. Creel had known of their visit in advance.
Ward and May reacted quickly, dodging aside, but the agents behind them were not so fortunate. Like a bull in an arena, Creel slammed two agents into the air, sending them flying out of the room and crashing into the corridor.
The remaining agents reacted swiftly. They raised their guns and fired in perfect coordination, their interwoven barrage rapidly covering Creel. Yet in that same second, Creel's skin shifted into a translucent Diamond Form. Countless bullets shrieked as they ricocheted off his diamond skin, their flattened, warped casings clattering across the floorboards.
Creel had clearly prepared diamond for his transformations in advance. Guns and ammunition were useless against his diamond skin. In just a few punches and kicks, Creel scattered the team. His brute strength was immense, and the agents had no chance at all.
Agent May spun and delivered a powerful roundhouse kick to Creel's left arm. Unfortunately, as expected, the Absorbing Man in Diamond Form did not budge. He turned around, his diamond right arm shooting out like a venomous python and clamping around Agent May's throat. With a flex of his arm, he effortlessly lifted her off the ground, then swung and hurled her away. She smashed through the peeling wall and rolled into the neighboring room.
In just six or seven seconds, Agent Ward was the only member of the team that had entered the room still standing. At that moment, Grant Ward, the Action Specialist with Level Seven S.H.I.E.L.D. clearance, displayed first-rate agent training. Calm under pressure, he ducked beneath Creel's straight punch, snapped his pistol upward, and aimed the barrel directly at his opponent's jaw. He pulled the trigger. Muzzle flash burst forth, and the bullet violently bounced off Creel's indestructible diamond chin, though the impact still knocked his head back.
Unfortunately, it was still not enough to inflict any real damage. Creel quickly recovered, slapped Ward's pistol away, and drove his massive fist down at the top of Ward's head. His diamond skin reflected dazzling light from the streetlamp outside the window.
Ward adapted instantly, dropping low and sliding past Creel's side. The diamond fist slammed into the spot where he had stood half a second earlier, smashing a bowl-sized crack into the floor.
Agent Ward rose and adjusted his stance. Relying on his extensive hand-to-hand combat experience, he avoided two more punches in succession while striking Creel's waist, ribs, the backs of his knees, and other joints with knife-hands and snapping kicks. Yet it was like striking solid ore, with little effect.
Creel seized the instant Ward was slow to withdraw from a strike and grabbed his wrist. Holding him by the arm, he flung Ward sideways. Agent Ward's body slammed heavily into the wooden bed against the wall, splitting it cleanly in two under the impact.
Ward lay on his back amid the collapsed bedframe, pain searing through the nerves in his back as though thousands of sharp needles were stabbing him. But Creel clearly had no intention of letting him catch his breath. The giant grabbed him by the throat, lifted him from the ground, and viciously pinned him against the wall. Plaster sifted down from the ceiling, and the entire room seemed to shake.
Creel pinned him to the wall but did not finish him off. Instead, he leaned closer and asked in a low voice, "How did you know I was here?"
The pain seemed to intensify, and the pressure around his neck nearly suffocated him. Grant Ward gritted his teeth and forced out through clenched teeth, "Followed your body odor?"
A savage glint flashed in Creel's eyes as his grip tightened. The enormous pressure crushed Agent Ward's throat and blocked his airway, making it seem as though Creel was about to kill him.
Ward's consciousness began to fade. For a moment, he even thought he was dead. But Carl Creel suddenly stopped moving. His pupils contracted, his grip slackened involuntarily, and he staggered back two steps. Ripple-like waves began spreading across his diamond skin, which then started shifting wildly out of control. His skin changed to rubber, then wood, then Diamond Form again moments later, like a Transformer.
It was Agent May. She had viciously rammed a complex cylindrical device into Creel's back. An electronic suction cup at the end of the cylinder clung tightly to him as the device spun at high speed. Countless particles poured through the suction cup into Creel's body like water through a burst dam, disrupting his internal balance and throwing his absorption and transformation abilities into chaos.
Creel let out a pained growl and dropped heavily to his knees. Agent May immediately launched a kick into his face, sweeping him onto his side. He hit the floor, lost consciousness, and went still.
May let out a long breath and extended a hand to Ward, who was leaning against the wall and breathing heavily. "Are you all right?"
Ward grasped her hand and struggled to his feet. "I won't die."
The two glanced at the unconscious Creel on the floor, both unable to suppress a lingering sense of dread.
Ward crouched down and carefully examined the device embedded in Creel's back, the one that had paralyzed his powers. "This thing really works. Fitz developed it?"
May shook her head. "No. Coulson said it was specially issued by higher-ups for this operation. But no matter who designed it, I think we owe them our lives."