Supergirl Defender Of Love

Chapter 75: Chapter 75 He's Alive



Kara Zor-El stepped through the front gates of Buckingham Palace with all the casual entitlement of a villainess who had just stolen a country. The palace staff, recently dismissed with generous bribes and legally vague retirement packages, had vacated the premises quietly. In their place, interior decorators scurried back and forth with swatches of royal crimson, obsidian stone tiles, and chrome-and-gold furniture designs. One stared at a sketch nervously, muttering, "She wants lava pipes under the ballroom… and a throne made of antique bayonets?" Kara strolled past the confusion with her cape flowing behind her, pausing only to admire a gold-inlaid chandelier now being modified to hang upside down with mounted LED flames.

Rogue kicked off her boots and slumped across a velvet chaise lounge that had once belonged to Queen Victoria. "I gotta admit, sugar. This place's got class. Just needs a little more villain."

"We're working on it," Kara said, nodding toward a freshly installed obsidian statue of herself holding Excalibur above a kneeling crowd of marble politicians. Natasha stood nearby, arms folded, overseeing the construction of a subterranean war room underneath the East Wing, while Storm and Jean debated over whether they needed a lava moat or a kraken pit surrounding the royal gardens. Meanwhile, Magneto's endlessly suffering credit card was still being charged for everything from enchanted wallpaper to dragon-shaped topiaries that spit scented smoke.

Half a world away, under the brutal glare of the South African sun, Magneto slammed his pickaxe into a gleaming vein of quartz. His face, streaked with sweat and defeat, twitched with every swing. An Evil Banker leaned against a rock nearby, swirling iced tea in a crystal glass. "Sir, perhaps it's time to cancel the credit card? The APR alone could strangle a man."

Magneto, gasping for breath and red-faced with sunburn, shook his head violently. "No! Never! I'll never give up my frequent villain points! They're all I have left!"

The banker sipped quietly, muttering under his breath, "He doesn't know they spent them all last week on caviar-scented toilet paper."

Back in London, Kara pushed open a heavy iron grate tucked into the far corner of the basement and stumbled across something curious: a dusty etching of an old map carved into the stone floor. "Girls," she called, "I think I just found our next villain arc."

Rogue appeared at the top of the stairs, holding a half-eaten apple. "You're not seriously gonna start dungeon crawling, are you?"

"This is England," Kara replied, brushing cobwebs off the stone. "Of course there's treasure under the castle." With a swift punch, she shattered the ancient brick wall behind the grate. A dark tunnel yawned open, and moments later, they descended into the gloom with flashlights and a sense of unearned purpose.

What they found could only be described as a supervillain's dream and a historian's existential crisis. Mountains of gold bars stacked like Lego bricks gleamed under the pale glow of emergency lights. Gemstones the size of fists, ancient scepters, and priceless artifacts—supposedly lost to time—were piled like supermarket produce. One ornate crown balanced precariously atop a centuries-old Fabergé egg. Wanda casually kicked aside what looked like the original Magna Carta, which someone had been using as a coaster under a goblet made of solid sapphire.

Then they heard it. The soft hum of "Can't Help Falling in Love" echoing from behind a stack of platinum bricks. Gwen stepped forward and drew her weapon, but then a shape emerged—tall, bedazzled, and glowing faintly in the torchlight.

"Elvis?" Kara blinked.

A man in a rhinestone-studded white jumpsuit, oversized sunglasses, and jet-black hair styled to gravity-defying perfection stepped into view. "Hey, baby. I never left." He held up a gold-plated ledger. "The money keeps me young."

Natasha took a slow step forward, eyeing him. "You've been managing the UK's hidden royal treasure all this time?"

Elvis shrugged, sipping from a goblet filled with glittering liquid. "Yup. It's how the real monarchy stays in power. People think it's all tea and waving from balconies, but down here—it's compound interest and offshore holdings."

Kara studied him with quiet respect. "Sir, I can tell greed is your motivation in life. And I can admire that."

Elvis raised his goblet. "Power's not about shouting, sweetheart. It's about owning."

Kara paced slowly past towering stacks of bullion. "If only the villains in my world were such honorable and greedy tyrants. Instead, they waste fortunes on monologues and explosions. You hoard treasure and rule from the shadows."

"I tried to teach 'em," Elvis said, shaking his head solemnly. "But the kids want fireworks, not financial strategy."

Kara turned to the rest of the girls. "You know, my best friend Batman figured it out. Controls the entire Western economy through blackmail, silent investments, and a portfolio that makes world banks cry."

Everyone froze.

Jean's eyes narrowed. "Wait. What?"

Kara blinked. "Oops… did I say that out loud?"

She cleared her throat and waved a hand quickly. "Forget I said anything. Don't look into superhero finances. Its just a black hole. You'll get lost. Probably eaten."

Natasha folded her arms slowly. "Kara. We control all your money."

Kara let out a dramatic sigh of relief and flopped backward onto a throne made entirely of antique war medals and bayonets. "Oh thank God. I thought I had to learn how to pay taxes or something."

Storm leaned down, brushing cobwebs off a golden orb inscribed with ancient Latin. "You realize you're now richer than most sovereign nations, right?"

Jean added, "Some of this gold predates organized banking."

Kara stood, lifted Excalibur from its sheath, and drove it into the stone floor at the center of the vault. The blade glowed bright, bathing the treasure chamber in divine light. "I hereby claim this vault as my royal treasury."

Gwen stepped over a pile of rubies and leaned on the sword. "So what's next? We've got the gold. We've got the palace. We've got the sword."

Kara stretched her arms behind her head. "Now we use all of it like villains should: fabulously."

The gold beneath England now had a new queen—and Kara Zor-El intended to spend every last jewel of it without mercy, without shame, and with style.

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