The Unseen Avenger ∘ Marvel

Prologue

Spring of 1999

There once was a little girl who stared at the body of a woman who had long since been proclaimed dead.

The child's deep brown eyes had been clouded by confusion and agitation when a mess of agents clad in tailored suits and weapons had marched into what one may have mistaken for her home. She regarded them as a potential threat and had quickly retreated to the corner of the basement she favored. It was the one that allowed her to see the entire layout of the cramped room as well as the door. The fading paint had begun to wear after months of the girl folding herself into the space.

Somehow, she knew they'd come. She knew someone would eventually come to collect the body.

The first thing Agent Coulson noticed was the child's neglected appearance. Her skin was several shades paler than when he'd last seen her; most likely from the fact she hadn't seen the sun in weeks. Her hair was knitted into knots, her small frame was starved for proper nutrition, and her left arm stuck out at an unnatural angle. A broken bone

Though in great need of immediate medical care, the kid was in much better condition compared to the dead woman lying near the middle of the room. A pool of scarlet surrounded the corpse, the foul smell permeating the space originating from it. Her naturally tanned skin had taken on a sickly grey complexion. The cause of death was apparent; the gory, blood-clotted hole on her chest was evidence enough, but that wound wasn't the most unnerving sight. It was Isabelle's wide, lifeless eyes staring straight up at the ceiling above her with blood leaking from the edge of her mouth. Phil always found that the stiff expressions he routinely saw on the dead were one of the most disheartening aspects of his job.

An agent on his left collected a discarded Glock-17 pistol off the floor and into an evidence bag while his boss asked in his ear, "Is Sprouse dead?"

Coulson didn't hesitate to answer, eyes darting back towards the skittish child who's gaze stayed locked on the corpse. He answered the man on the phone, "Definitely."

"Cause?"

"GSW." The agent observed the body a moment longer, looking for any more apparent injuries, "Or it appears like it. One right through the heart. No ID on the perpetrator."

Phil found that the girl had fixed her attention onto him as if she sensed he had begun to speak about her. The agent didn't meet her eyes, "Malnourished. Broken arm. Traumatized. My guess is that she's been down here at least two months, maybe three. She hasn't said a word yet."

A deep sigh came from the other end of the line before static filled the silence. Coulson waited patiently waited upon for any more orders he may give, more forensic agents busily documenting the scene around him to fulfill the incident report. It was another ten seconds before his superior officer responded, "I want her at HQ in the next few hours. Get what you can from her now. We'll have a developmental psychologist on standby for when you arrive."

He nodded, "Yes sir-"

"Up this to Level 8 security precautions." The man added quickly, voice leaden with authority, "I don't want this file sent to anyone but me. This is an anomaly we're dealing with. I don't want this publicized in any way."

Phil's brows furrowed in minor confusion but didn't press on the nature of such confidentiality, "Consider it done. What do we cite the cause of death?"

"Get creative. Tell some story to the next of kin. Just don't leak anything. Get her here and clean this up."

Nick Fury cut off the call shortly after that declaration. Coulson heavily exhaled at the abruptness, pocketing the cell phone and glancing back towards the body. The team had begun preparations to transport the corpse, meaning SHIELD's presence at the crime scene would be gone in the next few minutes. The whole ordeal would be wiped from all existence within a half-hour of their arrival.

Phil looked back at the child who's stare jumped from one agent to another with empty indifference. It was as if the young girl had detached from reality for a moment, perceiving the horrifying occurrence as if it had no relevance on her life. At least, that's how she presented herself. Coulson knew it must be a reaction to overbearing shock.

He made his way across the room to the scrawny kid, hunching down to her level a few feet away as to not overwhelm her. She flinched away despite his effort and dropped all eye contact, burrowing deeper into the darkened corner.

The man offered a kindly smile, not making any sudden movements to startle her. His tone took on a soft manner in order to appear non-threatening, "We've met before, but I don't know if you would remember me. It's been awhile."

There was no visible reaction to his greeting immediately, but the child seemed to recognize him. He elaborated anyway, "My name is Phil Coulson. Do you wanna tell me yours?"

Her left cheek twitched, pensive to reveal her name. Her chapped lips parted, the small sound coming from her mouth tainted by a fading foreign accent, "Sienna Firman. You knew my dad."

Coulson gently smiled at the mention of her late father, glad for the vocal response, "Yeah, me and him were good friends. He worked for SHIELD. That's who we are. We're here to take you somewhere safe."

With those few words, Sienna Firman was taken into the permanent care of the organization she would call home. It was the beginning of her becoming one of Nicholas Fury's many problems.