_(This is only for those 18+ and all characters are 18+. As with all my stories its written for entertainment purposes and not meant to impinge on copyrighted characters or upset anyone. _
Author's note: Going into this story, Mark - Kara's FBI handler - has no idea what her secret identity is. For the eagle eyed of you that may have spotted him call her "Kara" once or twice in the previous chapter, please ignore that. Let's blame the author's poor proofreading skills and inability to go back and edit - thanks for reading).
Part 4: Energy Crisis
Kara Danvers’ cursor blinked accusingly on the half-finished draft. ‘Metahumans Off the Grid: Why Some Heroes Are Choosing to Disappear.’ It was a strong headline and had some decent reporting within it, if she did say so herself. It needed tightening. Her boss Andrea Rojas would say it needed teeth.
She checked the time in the corner of her laptop screen. Forty-eight minutes until she had to physically be at CatCo.
Plenty of time.
Her coffee had gone cold. The city outside her apartment window glowed in late afternoon gold, deceptively calm. She glanced over at the pale blue pantsuit she had hung up on the back of her door. She was going to rock this presentation today.
Of course, that’s when her super hearing heard the alarm.”Ah… dammit.”
Dressed in an old hoodie and sweatpants, she pulled them off as quickly as possible and grabbed her costume - hung haphazardly over a radiator. She’d washed it three times after the events of Utah and still dirt hung to it. Added to that, it hadn’t dried properly yet. She cringed as she pulled it on. “Eww…”
She placed her glasses next to the replacement earpiece Mark had given her. It was alive and vibrated on a table. She picked it up, rolled her eyes and slipped it into her ear.
Mark’s voice came alive. “Supergirl, multiple energy signatures spiking near Grant Street. Three hostiles. Non-terrestrial tech. Likely coordinated robbery.”
She closed her eyes briefly, tugging her red skirt up over her red pants. “Hello to you too Mark. Yeah, I know. I mean I heard already. I thought you were going to leave National City to me?”
“These are three non-terrestrial criminals wanted by the FBI. I only want to help.”
“Mark, I fight aliens everyday I-““Times already wasting, Supergirl.”
She sighed and moved, she only stopped briefly to save her work on the laptop. She slipped her phone into one of her red boots as she had a feeling she might need to let Andrea know she’d be late.
The jewellery exchange detonated outward in a burst of glass and smoke just as she landed. Three armoured figures emerged, weapons humming.
“The leader has a high-density charge on his left gauntlet.” Mark said immediately. “Recommend right-side approach. Blind spot at forty degrees.”
“I see it.”
“Adjust two degrees further. Drone feed suggests compensation.”
“Adjust two degrees?” She said confused, trying to altered her trajectory mid-step. She moved half a beat slower than she would have moved naturally.
The rear guard pivoted and fired. The blast clipped her shoulder and slammed her into a streetlamp, showering sparks across the sidewalk.
She caught the falling debris before it crushed a parked car. She glanced down at the scorch mark on her shoulder. The costume she’d been cleaning for days instantly dirty. “Ok, that’s really annoying.”
“Your original trajectory intersected with projected detonation radius.” Mark continued.
“Wait, what?” Kara responded, now actively confused about the direction he had given.
The leader sprinted for a black van idling at the curb. “Do not engage directly.” Mark continued. “Disable from elevation.”
“Ok, so fly up and take it out. Just say that.” She launched upward as instructed, heat vision slicing down and the van just fishtailed anyway, tires shrieking as it lurched into traffic.
A pedestrian froze in the crosswalk and Kara abandoned the aerial angle instantly, diving to yank the pedestrian to safety as the van swerved past.
And now her phone vibrated inside her boot.
Andrea.
Kara caught the call in a blur of motion while she blocked a kinetic blast from one of the aliens with her forearm and dodged another.
“Danvers.” Andrea’s voice cut in, sharp as glass. “Where the hell are you? I need you in the office in ten minutes.”
Kara ducked as another pulse shot scorched brick behind her. “I’m just… I’m just finishing that piece on the heroes.”
“You were supposed to be here fifteen minutes ago.”
“There was a… delay. Traffic is rough today.”
“I don’t pay you for delays,” Andrea replied coolly. “Ten minutes, Kara. Conference room. And bring something that reads like actual journalism, not some fawning piece on what Supergirl ate for lunch today.”
The line went dead. In her other ear, Mark hadn’t shut up “Leader approaching bridge access. Vector left in three. Are you listening to me Supergirl?”
“Not anymore.” She muttered, as she pulled the communicator out of her ear and slipped it into her boot. “Enough backseat flying, thank you.”
All this distraction hadn’t helped the fight. Another kinetic strike, powerful enough to knock down a wall, caught her in the ribs knocking her backwards. “OOFT.” That just irritated her.
For a moment, the criminals had momentum. But now, instead of chasing from above, she shot forward at street level, seized the van’s rear axle and lifted cleanly.
The vehicle swung upward, tires spinning uselessly, before she set it down sideways across the road, engine crushed, chassis intact. Traffic halted. No collisions.
One precise strike shattered the leader’s charge gauntlet without detonating it. A pivot disarmed the trigger. Some controlled and surgical heat vision sliced through the alien rifles without igniting their cores.
One of them tried to run and she appeared in front of him and tapped the base of his neck with just enough force that he collapsed instantly.
Thirty seconds. Minimal damage. No casualties. Yet, with her super hearing, she could still hear Mark buzzing in the communicator.
Police sirens wailed in the distance. Kara hovered once above the contained chaos, chest rising evenly. She glanced down at the scorch mark on her suit and sighed. Then her phone buzzed again. Andrea. “Where are you, Danvers?"
Five minutes to get there.
“Uh… Two minutes. I-I’m just coming to the entrance.”
She shot upward, a red and blue streak cutting across the city, landing on her balcony hard enough to rattle the glass. The door stuck again, and this time she gave it too much of a pull. She heard something break, but didn’t have time to worry about it.
Inside she pushed her super speed to the limit. Uniform hidden beneath her civilian clothes. The pale blue pantsuit hugged her curves. Hair twisted back in a tight ponytail. Glasses on.
She grabbed her laptop, scanned the draft, added three sharp paragraphs in under twelve seconds, hit send.
Then she ran. Two blocks from CatCo she slowed to a breathless jog, she had forced her pulse higher and her cheeks were flushed. She had pushed herself so much that for the first time in forever she actually felt what it was like to be out of breath. Even briefly.
She pushed through the CatCo doors at exactly the five minute mark. Andrea stood outside the conference room, tablet in hand. “You’re cutting it close. So close Danvers.”
“I’m here.” Kara said, still slightly winded.
Andrea’s eyes swept over her. There was a faint streak of soot along Kara’s jawline she hadn’t noticed. Andrea arched a brow. “Rough commute?”
Kara adjusted her glasses and plastered on an awkward smile. “Traffic.” Technically, it wasn’t a lie.
Kara pulled off the pale blue blazer, her blouse sleeve, barely visible, was torn at the cuff. Andrea silently noticed that too.
That night, Kara was looking over the city again from a familiar venue.
The hotel hadn’t improved. If anything, it looked worse. The carpet’s colour was influenced by the dried wine that hadn’t quite come out, the wallpaper peeled at the seams and the fluorescent lights buzzed with a low, persistent vibration.
As Kara sat back against a small desk, she couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched.
That was because she was being watched.
Kara had heard the recorders before she had even flew in through the window. Had pinpointed them with her super vision.
Four this time. One in the smoke detector. One threaded into the cheap lamp wiring. One tucked behind the warped mirror. And a new one, this one federal grade, embedded somewhere in the vent.
Immaculate as she was, Supergirl did not belong in rooms like this. Red and blue against the seedy nicotine ceilings.
Mark stood near the window, immaculate as ever himself. Suit pressed within an inch of its life. He passed her a tonic water as requested and watched her take a sip. “I love your choice of meeting place. So ambient.” She said lightly, a playful smile on her face. “Very coastal chic.”
“It’s unregistered. And deniable.”
“It’s wired.”
“Yes.” He turned and looked her in the eyes as he said it. He didn’t flinch.
She returned the stare with one of her own, steely. For a moment there was nothing but silence and tension.
A faint curve touched his mouth as he finally spoke. “San Francisco. Tech sector. Alcatraz Island would you believe”
Her posture shifted, she crossed her arms and listened.
“Vale Dynamics. Know them?”
That meant something to Kara, she nodded and let him continue.
“CEO: Adrian Vale. Two-time Coast City Man of the Year. Philanthropist. Green energy investor. Defence contracts.”
“And?” She prompted.
“And we believe his company are abducting metahumans. We’ve linked disappearances to venture funding outreach. Invitations to private R&D partnerships. Several metas went off grid within weeks of contact.”
“How many?” Kara couldn’t hide the concern on her face.
“A handful confirmed. A lot more suspected.”
Her jaw tightened and she took another sip of her drink. “Names.”
He watched her carefully as he answered. “Do you know Rex Mason?”
The reaction was instant. “Rex?”
“Yes.”
“He’s not…” She cut herself off, recalibrating. “I mean… He’s careful.”
“He was. Last sighting, Oakland warehouse district. Two days later, his apartment was scrubbed.”
“You’re talking about the Element Man?”
“I’m talking about Rex Mason. Chemical engineer. Corporate whistleblower. Former employee of Stagg Industries.”
Her eyes sharpened. “You’re using his civilian identity in a bugged room.”
“I’m aware.” Silence stretched again, charged but contained. Kara did not like how casual he was being with his knowledge. She was quietly thankful he had no idea of her secret identity. “And he’s missing.”
Her fists clenched, just slightly. “And you think Vale has him.”
“Yes. Not only that, we think Vale wants to weaponise him.”
Her gaze flicked toward the vent. Toward the mirror. Toward the smoke detector. “And you want me to go to San Francisco.”
“I want you to find out what you can. Get us some proof one way or another.”
Kara leant back and thought about it. A plan began to formulate in her head. One that she would need to proceed with alone. “Ok, but I need to do it my way. That means I don’t want you in my ear the entire time. Or at all.”
“That’s the protocol.”
“Let’s make a special case. I don’t need to be surveilled or told how to do things. I’ve been doing this for a while.”
“I thought we were making a good team.” He asked, for the first time a little note of disappointment in his voice. Something sharpened in his posture.
“I handled those alien criminals on Grant Street. I handled it better when you weren’t recalculating my angles or whatever you were doing.”
“You deviated from coordinated strategy.”
“YOUR coordinated strategy. Believe me I had it under control. I prevented civilian casualties.” A beat. “Mark, I need space. Listen, there’s times when I need some room and times when you’ll be useful in my ear - like Utah. Trust me.”
“Ok.. ok. It’s a results based business.” He raised his hands to his side, letting her win the argument and laughed a little bitterly. “But take this.” He handed her a small box, inside it was a new communicator.
“Two-way. Encrypted. Direct to me. It’s tougher than the one that was damaged in Utah or the temporary one you have now. Plus, you can now get in touch with me when you want and, this button-“ He pointed to a small red button. “- hit that and I’ll treat it as an emergency. It will send out a tracking signal so I can find you.”
She glanced up with a face that said, do I look like I need help.
“You know… if you run into magic again or something.” He smiled weakly.
“I… thanks Mark.” Kara responded.
He stepped closer now, not touching, not quite but close enough that his words carried weight. “You understand, that if you are compromised, I need to intervene. And we’ll both need to answer to my boss.”
“I’d expect nothing less.”
His mouth curved faintly. “But I’m willing to let you do things your way.”
“You’re very comfortable rewriting federal parameters.” Kara smirked.
“You get one window. Limited surveillance. Passive monitoring only.”
Her brow arched. “Passive.”
“You check in with me whilst you’re onsite. No tactical interference unless you request it.”
She considered him. “Fine.”
For the first time, something unguarded flickered in Mark’s eyes. “Be careful.”
She turned toward the window now, opened it and turned back flashing her winning smile. “Hey, haven’t you heard? I’m Supergirl. You’ve got nothing to worry about.”
The ferry cut through the bay, the water choppy, making it bounce. Kara stood near the railing, fingers curled lightly around cold metal, letting the wind whip strands of hair loose from her tightly pulled together ponytail.
The skyline of San Francisco shimmered behind her. Ahead, Alcatraz rose from the water. Historic. Infamous. Once a prison. Now something else.
She’d sold it to Andrea as an investigative follow-up to her disappearing metas piece “Energy startups exploiting regulatory gaps. Private defence funding on federal landmarks. The symbolism writes itself, Andrea.”
Andrea had narrowed her eyes, tapped her tablet and said. “I’ll give you two nights in San Francisco, Danvers. Bring me something tangible.”
So here she was. White shirt. Dark blazer. Pencil skirt. Chunky handbag. Sensible heels. And beneath it all, folded against her skin like a second skin, her famous red and blue costume.
Infiltrate the most famous prison in the world, find out what a mysterious tech company are up to, do it without revealing her secret identity to said mysterious tech company (and the FBI), and then write an article that puts a smile on Andrea Rojas’s face.
Easy.
The ferry docked with a hollow thud.
A woman in a sleek charcoal suit waited at the end of the gangway. Late thirties. Efficient posture. Tablet tucked to her side. “Ms. Danvers?” She called pleasantly. Kara adjusted her press badge and smiled. Bright, a little too eager. “That’s me.”
“Laura Moreau. Mr. Vale’s chief of staff. Welcome to Alcatraz.” They walked up the concrete incline together. “The island was acquired under a joint historical preservation and green redevelopment initiative.” Laura explained smoothly. “Vale Industries partners with the city and the National Park Service. Restoration funding in exchange for limited research zoning.”
“Limited?” Kara tilted her head, dorky curiosity dialled to about an eight.
“Contained.” Laura corrected. “Symbolism matters to Mr. Vale. Alcatraz once housed the most dangerous men in America. Now it houses the technology that might make dangerous men obsolete.”
Kara smiled politely. Ok then.
The old prison structures remained. Rusted bars, weathered brick. but beyond them rose something jarringly modern. Clean architectural ambition grafted onto the historical stone.
Vale Industries gleamed against the scarred rock.
Inside, everything was white light and reflective floors. Sterile optimism. Transparent offices.
And then. “Ms. Danvers.” His voice carried warmth like a practiced instrument. Adrian Vale crossed the atrium toward her, hand extended. He was handsome, no doubt. Mid-forties in a very nice tailored suit. Confident of course. “Call me Adrian, please.” He said as she shook his hand, flashing a winning smile.
His grip lingered half a second too long.
“I’ve read your work. Your piece on post crisis infrastructure reform? Smart. Compassionate. You have a gift for humanising the larger narrative.” Kara blinked. “That was three years ago.”
“Yes.” His smile deepened. “Before CatCo shifted editorial tone. I’m not sure whose tone I prefer, Cat Grant or Andrea Rojas. Both have their strengths.” He knows my career trajectory. She laughed lightly. “Well they both keep things interesting. And I try to too.”
“Oh, you do.”
Something in his gaze held a fraction longer than it should have. Subtle. She felt it then. The faintest shift in herself. Not pain. Not weakness. Just… Dimmer.
Like a bulb turned down a notch. Her heartbeat ticked a little faster. Heat gathered slower behind her eyes when she reflexively tested it. The ambient noise of the building fuzzed at the edges.
Strange.
“Shall we?” Adrian gestured toward a glass-walled conference room overlooking the bay.
They sat across from one another. Recorder on the table. Kara clicked her pen. “So…” She began brightly. “Vale Industries relocating to Alcatraz is quite the statement.”
He folded his hands. “Energy is the future, Ms. Danvers. Redistribution, optimisation, sustainability. Humanity has always depended on unstable forces. Fossil fuels, volatile markets… volatile individuals.”
“Metahumans?” She asked gently.
“Potential. Untapped potential. Why rely on individuals when we can understand the mechanisms behind them?”
Her pulse ticked again. Slightly elevated. “You’re studying metahumans?”
“We’re studying energy. All living beings generate it. Some simply… express it more dramatically.”
Her vision blurred for half a second. He noticed. His eyes flicked to her throat. He seemed to measure her for a moment. He noticed a tiny bead of sweat on the nape of her neck. His eyes traced her neck, to the collar of her shirt. “Too warm?” He asked conversationally. “The island climate can be deceptive.”
“I’m fine.” She replied. But he wasn’t exactly wrong. It was warm in here. Not the sort of thing she usually noticed.
He leaned back, satisfied. They spoke for forty-five minutes. About reducing dependence on unregulated actors. About the energy crisis.
Every sentence was polished. Every phrase intentional. And the entire time she felt…
Off.
He stood smoothly at the end of it. “Unfortunately, I’m needed for a call with our Coast City partners. But please. Explore. Laura will show you our restoration labs, our materials wing. Alcatraz is about reinvention. I think you’ll appreciate the metaphor.” He paused at the doorway. “We’ll continue in a couple of hours.”
His smile lingered. And then he was gone.
Laura reappeared at Kara’s side as if summoned. “If you’ll follow me.” They walked through corridors of glass and light.
Kara tested her vision. Nothing. Every wall was lead lined. Every lab partition was shielded. Even the flooring. Lead the one thing she couldn’t see through. She pushed her hearing outward instead. At first, just the hum of systems. Footsteps. Murmured voices. And then… A sound.
Faint.
Metal against metal. Not rhythmic. Not machinery. It was intentional. Below them. She slowed half a step.
“Is something wrong?” Laura asked smoothly.
Kara adjusted her glasses. “Just taking it all in.” Another sound. A strained breath. Filtered. Distant. Her smile remained perfectly intact. “I’d love to see the lower levels. The original infrastructure.”
Laura’s expression didn’t change. “Of course.” But her grip on the tablet tightened almost imperceptibly.
Laura’s heels made a precise, rhythmic sound against the polished floor. Kara let herself trail half a step behind, nodding at appropriate intervals while Laura explained the scintillating topics of mineral reclamation processes and sustainable alloy research with rehearsed fluency.
The sound came again. Faint. Metal shifting against restraint, below them.
Breathing.
Kara slowed, pressing her fingers briefly to her temple. “You mentioned archival restoration?” She asked, injecting mild embarrassment into her tone. “I actually did a minor in American history at National City University. I’d love to see the original cell blocks before they were modernised.”
Laura paused just long enough to calculate. “They’re structurally unstable.”
“Oh.” Kara’s shoulders dipped slightly. “Of course. Sorry. I just thought, you know, it’s Alcatraz. How many times am I going to get to see it?”
A beat.
Laura’s smile returned, diplomatic. “There is a preserved section two levels down. I can have someone escort you.”
“That’s okay.” Kara said quickly, waving a hand with self-conscious enthusiasm. “I really don’t want to pull anyone off a project. I promise I won’t wander. Just five or ten minutes. I’ll meet you back in the atrium?”
Laura studied her. Measuring risk. Journalist. Press badge. Mildly overeager. Annoying.
Harmless.
Suspicious.
“Fine. Five minutes. The elevator to the right. You’ll see signage.”
Kara beamed. “Thank you.”
She waited exactly three seconds after Laura turned the corner and then she moved. Not at full super speed. But enough to blur cameras.
Her hearing guided her through corridors that became progressively less aesthetic and more functional. The glass gave way to reinforced composite walls. The curated greenery disappeared. The air seemed to change into something cooler and heavier.
Still warm against her skin. She still felt slightly… dim.
She flexed her fingers experimentally. Fine. She was fine. Even Supergirls got a little rundown. She was just a little out of sorts. That was all. Nerves. After Opal City. Utah. The ferry ride. The tight schedule.
She turned a corner and slipped into an unmarked lab the moment two researchers exited. Inside, stainless steel surfaces gleamed under surgical lighting. Screens. Lots and lots of screens. And on one central monitor.
Rex Mason.
Her breath caught. The footage was dated just three days prior. Rex restrained in a reinforced chair, his skin shifting. Mercury to iron to carbon composite while technicians observed readings scrolling beside him.
One clip showed him attempting to transmute through the restraints. The restraints pulsed. He faltered. Kara’s jaw tightened, she whispered in a gasp. “What are they doing?”
A second file caught her eye. Subject: Mason, R. Status: Stable extraction yield. Extraction.
Her stomach dropped. She scanned further. Lower tier names she recognised from fringe incident reports. A kinetic amplifier from Phoenix. A bioelectric manipulator from Spokane. A density shifter from Reno.
Each file included biometric overlays. Video logs. Some were cooperative. Some screaming.
The air felt warmer.
She copied nothing. Touched nothing, she just memorised. Footsteps echoed in the corridor. Kara moved before the handle turned, slipping behind a storage partition until two lab techs entered.
She waited until they were absorbed in their debate, then slipped back into the corridor and followed the sound deeper. The architecture shifted again in the original prison infrastructure grafted onto modern containment.
The noise was clearer now. Metal scraping. A breath pulled through clenched teeth.
Kara stopped in front of a door. Industrial and lead lined. Of course it was. She pressed her palm against it. She couldn’t see through it, but she could hear him. Not weak in power, but weak in spirit. “Rex?” She whispered under her breath.
No response.
She glanced down the corridor and saw no one coming. Her fingers curled around the edge of the door and applied some force.
The lock resisted but then gave with a soft internal snap. She opened it an inch, just enough. The smell hit first. She widened the gap. And froze. It wasn’t Rex.
The figure slumped in the containment rig was gaunt, purple skinned, veins darkened. His suit, clearly once some kind of containment harness, hung loose against a body that looked half-collapsed inward.
Energy rippled faintly across him, unstable. His eyes were hollow and his breaths shallow.
The Parasite.
Not rampaging and not all that monstrous. Drained. Used up. Electrodes lined his arms and conduits fed into a central column humming with captured charge.
He lifted his head at the disturbance. Their eyes met and recognition flickered. Kara’s throat tightened and she shut the door instantly.
Her heart racing, not from fear or any kind of weakness. But from fury.
She stepped back from the door and counted to three. Calm. She checked her reflection in the brushed steel panel opposite. Glasses straight. Blazer smooth. Smile recalibrated.
She retraced her steps upward, matching her pace to something plausible for a curious journalist who had taken exactly five minutes too long.
The atrium light felt blinding after the lower levels, she saw Laura stood near the reception desk with Adrian Vale beside her. They stopped speaking the moment Kara approached, a little too quickly. But she hadn’t caught the words.
“There you are.” Adrian said warmly. “Enjoying our history lesson?”
“Fascinating.” Kara replied, slightly breathless but attributing it to enthusiasm. “You’ve done remarkable work preserving the site.”
Laura’s gaze flicked, just briefly, to Kara’s cuffs. To the faint flush in her cheeks. Back to Adrian. Something unspoken passed between them.
Adrian stepped closer. “Well, I do hope you’ll stay.”
“For…?”
“Dinner! I love to host. You’ll never believe where my office is and oh the chef we have out here… You really must stay. You’ve come all this way. It would be a shame to rush back to the mainland.”
Kara hesitated just long enough to appear flattered. “I… I’d love to.”
The dinner was set in Adrian Vale’s office, though “office” hardly captured it.
Adrian had proudly let her know this was the Governor of Alcatraz’s original quarters. She noticed the lack of windows and the general dourness of the room. Still she pretended to be impressed.
A place setting had been laid out for the two of them, on a little table in the middle of the room, the cutlery gleaming.
Vale gestured toward it with a faint smile. “I hope you like surprises. The chef has prepared something very special. Very Alcatraz.”
Kara perched at the table, blazer tight over her shoulders, hands folded neatly atop the linen, press badge tucked into her purse along with the communicator Mark had given her. She smiled politely. Dorkily enough to seem engaged, but her senses were already scanning.
She wanted to make this dinner and second interview quick, leave, report back to Mark and then pay this place another visit, in the form of her alter ego.
“So.” She said, sliding her fork lightly against the rim of the plate, inspecting the steak in front of her. “Vale Industries. Alcatraz. It’s a very bold location.”
Vale leaned back in his seat. “Boldness is often necessary when one is redefining the future. Let me take your blazer.”
“Oh thank you.” She took it off and handed it to him, her long shirt sleeves still covered her costume. Then, she narrowed her eyes slightly, casually, as if considering him but really reading the lines of his mouth, the faint tension in his jaw. “The future… by studying metahumans?”
He raised an eyebrow, a smile already plastered on his face like he’d expected the question. “You’re perceptive and tenacious, Ms. Danvers. I’ll give you that. Yes. Energy redistribution. Human potential. But it’s not… what you think.”
Kara tilted her head. “Go on.”
“Well, let’s cut the bullshit. I know you’ve seen the videos. The files. Rex Mason. Parasite. No don’t worry, I’m not mad. I’d be curious too.”
Her stomach went taut and she straightened a fraction. “Go on.”
“Underachiever. The Parasite I mean. Never pushed past his limitations. He requires touch. Must physically connect to draw energy. But some of us…” His hand traced the edge of his plate, elegant, controlled. “Can accomplish far more. From a distance.”
Kara blinked. Something tickled in the back of her mind. Fogged her focus just slightly. “I’m sorry, you’ve lost me.” Her voice was calm but sharp.
He smiled faintly, leaning forward, the light in the office glinting in his eyes. “Ms. Danvers… I have perfected what Parasite could not. Taken his power. Enhanced it. And that is how I know everything about you. Supergirl.”
Her stomach dropped. Her senses dimmed further, subtle but undeniable. The room felt heavier. Her reflexes… slower. She felt panicked. Not weak. Not yet. But… dim.
Before she could react fully, he reached for her wrist. Grabbed it. Cold, deliberate and firm.
Energy ripped from her. It surged along her nerves, siphoning carefully. Her vision dulled. Her hearing fuzzed at the edges. She gasped and clutched the table edge.
She tried with all of her might to break the hold, no point in hiding her identity now, but was shocked to find that he now easily overpowered her.
He held her gaze. Calm. Controlled.
The room blurred. Her instincts screamed to fly, to fight, to run out of there, but her body felt sluggish, compromised, like she was wading through molasses.
Her mind raced for a plan. For leverage. For anything.
He let go and she fell off her chair to the floor.
Adrian Vale leaned back, the faintest hint of triumph tugging at the corner of his lips.
Kara blinked. Tried to focus. She flexed her fingers. Her hand ached from the impact of the fall.
The Parasite had always been too easy. Too slow. Easy to avoid. But Adrian Vale… was something different.
Vale leaned back in his chair, hands clasped together, as if the energy he was drawing from her was just another resource to be cataloged. “You see, Ms. Danvers, you think this is about one metahuman. One threat. But we’ve been thorough. Element Man. Several others. Powers siphoned, stored, studied, replicated.”
Kara blinked, trying to steady her racing heartbeat. Every nerve felt like it was being pulled apart. Her vision dimmed at the edges.
“I never expected the Girl of Steel to just walk in.” Vale’s tone was casual, almost conversational, like he was commenting on the weather. “I felt something about your aura and when we shook hands… well, it struck me. What an opportunity.”
Her stomach dropped further. This wasn’t an interrogation. It wasn’t a negotiation. She was inside the lion’s den, and she’d entered it without a second thought.
The office door clicked behind her. Laura Moreau returned, sleek as ever. Tablet tucked under her arm, expression neutral.
“Ah.” Vale said, voice lightly amused. “Miss Moreau.”
Laura stepped forward. Kara’s eyes widened as subtle energy crackled around her hands, faint, but unmistakable. Heat and electricity danced just beneath the skin.
“You’ve met Element Man. Well… Ms. Moreau here…” He tilted his head slightly, an almost imperceptible smirk tugging at his lips. “She has inherited certain qualities.”
Kara’s stomach knotted as realisation hit. Laura’s calm, collected facade was a mask. The flicker in her eyes. “You… you’ve taken his powers?”
Laura’s lips curved, a predator’s smile. She flexed her fingers experimentally, a faint glow pulsing along her knuckles. “Employee benefit.” She said dryly.
Before Kara could respond, the stolen energy surged. Laura’s touch sent a cold wave coursing through Kara’s veins. Her limbs stiffened. She felt utterly powerless. She tried to use her heat vision but she couldn’t concentrate and it spluttered and died. Her body shivered and convulsed as Laura smiled.
Vale’s voice was calm. “It’s curious isn’t it Miss Danvers, how even the most powerful of us can be humbled.”
Kara’s fists clenched, but her body betrayed her. Laura advanced just slightly, letting the stolen energy ripple outward like a silent blade. Kara lay on the floor, trying to hide her face, trying to mask her panic. “ Ooo..ow..ohh…”
Vale continued, putting a piece of expensive steak in his mouth. “As I said, I never imagined the Girl of Steel would simply present herself. But here she is… arrogant, cocky and overconfident.”
Laura’s hand hovered closer. Kara’s chest rose rapidly, shallow breaths. Vale’s gaze met hers, calculating. “Observe, Kara. How even steel bends.”
Laura sent another wave of energy through Kara. This time an electric pulse that caused her to convulse and cry out in pain. “AHHH! NNN AHHH!”
Her body seemed to sizzle as Vale now bent down and grabbed her by the shirt collar. With the flick of his wrist he sent buttons flying.
Kara gasped weakly. “N-no…”
In the reflection of his eyes, a familiar S shield was now visible.
“You know, I really was interested in that interview Kara. I’ve followed your work for the past few years - speaking truth to power and interviewing superheroes. Though finding out that you are in fact one of them taints everything, don’t you think?” Adrian Vale crouched down next to her and stroked her blonde hair, before taking off her glasses without any defiance.
“Wasn’t you Pulitzer off the back of your interview with Supergirl?” Laura Moreau added, the thought of it clearly tickled her.
“No integrity.” Vale sadly shook his head, pulling Kara’s gorgeous blonde hair free of its ponytail. He ran a hand down her pale cheek, draining her just a little bit more.
Kara gasped, her body felt completely drained, yet he found more to steal from her. “W-what are you going to do?” Usually she’d have thought of what to do by now, some kind of plan of escape, but her mind felt fuzzy. The mockery of her journalistic career stung too.
The pair looked at each other and smiled knowingly. Vale brushed her hair out of her face. “We’re going to keep you for the night, learn how to replicate your powers and then let you go.”“It really is that quick a process.” Laura interjected.
“Then you go back to CatCo, write a spectacular article about me and then disappear into obscurity.” Vale finished.
“W-what do you mean obscurity?” Kara weakly responded. She was scared, she was struggling to hide it but she had to try. She thought to herself that she had never been this vulnerable before. She pushed herself to be more defiant.
“Well, perhaps as the process improves we might be able to do it without harming the subject we’re stealing from. But as of now, we steal your powers and there’ll be nothing left for you. You’ll be powerless. Normal. Still, you’ll still have a pretty face. Probably.” Vale shrugged like it was no big deal.
“And it’s bye, bye Supergirl.” Laura said dryly.
Kara swatted at Vale’s hand, tried to push herself up, her panic now rising into fear. “No.. no… I won’t let you… Get your hands off me…”
The blow to her back was harder than Vale intended. He had stolen her powers and hadn’t tested them yet. “AHHH! Ahaha…no.. n-no…” Kara screamed as the impact hit her spine, before she collapsed back to the floor.
Vale stood up and tossed Laura the pair of glasses he had stolen from Kara and turned his attentions to his assistant. A devilish smile creeped across his lips. “All this said… the uh… the evening is still young. And well… she’s certainly better looking than the Element Man, isn’t she?”
“Yes, Mr Vale.”
They looked down at the helpless heroine, her identity exposed. Still half dressed in her civilian clothes. Her costume poking out under her shirt. Fear painted on her face. Her chest rising and falling in weak, pained breaths.
“Miss Moreau. I’d like you to film this. I want a record of the night the Girl of Steel was broken.” The words were clinical and cold, and sent a chill down Kara’s back.
Vale floated over to her, a small display of the power he had stolen from her. He grabbed her by the collar of her costume and yanked her up, held her tightly by the arms as Laura pointed her phone camera at them. “Say hello to the camera, Supergirl.” He told her, as Kara tried to turn her head and look away, closing her eyes.
His hand snaked inside her torn open shirt and grabbed one of her breasts through her costume, squeezing and groping it. Kara’s discomfort was caught on camera, her gasp when he bit her earlobe too. She strained against his grip, but was overpowered.
Then he pushed her forward and Kara stumbled to the floor, ending up on all fours. Her dark skirt was scuffed and dirty now, he grabbed her hair and pulled her head up towards the camera. The discomfort and fear was exposed, a single tear ran down Kara’s cheek before she felt Vale’s hand slap and grab her ass through her skirt. “Ah!” She couldn’t help but yelp.
She stared into the camera, fear boiling into a mix of frustration and rage. It took her captors a moment to realise, but she was trying to force her heat vision to power up. The camera caught her eyes briefly light up red, before sparking out. The only things that escaped Kara were a few more tears and a gasp as she felt light headed.
“Miss Moreau, the office wear is cute, but would you do the honours.” Vale stepped back and Kara looked up through blurry eyes as Laura’s hands began to change, her eyes widening as Laura’s fingers turned to flame.
Kara tried one more time to push herself up as she realised what was about to happen. “NNNNHAHH…” The flame engulfed her and through some direction from Laura, burnt through her white shirt and dark skirt.
Laura ripped the still burning rages from her body, leaving only her Supergirl costume. The red skirt and blue spandex top, tight to her body. Kara’s mind raced, pain and humiliation ran through it - they had exposed her.
Vale held one of Kara’s sensible heels in his hand. “So where does she keep the red boots? And the cape?” He noticed Kara’s handbag, large and abandoned on the floor. “Unless…” He nodded for Laura to look.
“No…” Kara gasped, her body in pain, she had collapsed onto the ground and her arms hugged herself, as she watched helplessly.
“Secret compartment. Smart. Very smart. Whoever made this for you must be a genius.” Laura commented, pulling out Kara’s cape and red boots, it seemed impossible that they could fit in there. “What else is in here. Makeup… your badge… phone…” She held the communicator that Mark had given her for a moment. “Cool headphones.” Tossed it back in.
“Please… this does’t have to go any further. I-I…” Kara quietly began to beg as Laura tossed her boots and cape next to her. She was out of other options. “I won’t - AHH!” Kara was cut off mid speech as Vale grabbed her hair and pulled her back up to all fours. He spanked her again and tossed her skirt up, exposing her ass and the tiny pants she was wearing.
His hand slid in-between her legs, running up her pale thighs until his fingers pressed against her pants and he began to trace the outline of her pussy through them. Kara whined as she felt him press against her clit and her face twisted, all caught by Laura on her camera phone. “Nnnn…. S-stop this… You can’t do this to me…”
He began to rub her and tested out the super speed he had stolen as he pressed hard against Kara’s clit. He pulled her hair back hard again and the camera recorded all of her reactions. The lingering defiance. Her pleading. And inevitably, the little gasps and moans that began to come out of her mouth.
“I think she likes that.” Laura said coldly from behind the camera. She focused on Kara, eyes closed, mouth open, the moans coming out of her mouth. The camera panned and caught her nipples pressed hard underneath her suit. “So shameful.”
Kara was trying to drown it all out, to just get through the next few minutes. The only words coming out of her mouth were “No. Stop.” But Laura’s words stung and the feeling between her legs was, though she would never admit it, indescribable. The added shame and humiliation ate at her, but in some ways seemed to be making it ok.
Perhaps being so weak was to blame, she certainly felt more sensitive all over her body. She tried to rationalise it as her body betrayed her, yet again. She moaned loudly now. Laura bent down and took her by the chin, planted a kiss on her. Kara found herself returning it.
She felt something building up inside her, something different than even the time in Utah. She had been weak and tired then, but nothing like this, weak - no weaker - than a human. “Oh… oh God…” Kara moaned, she was going to cum so hard. Explode.
And then nothing.
Vale stopped, let go and let her collapse to the floor again. “Only when you beg for it. On camera.” He said coldly, cruelly. He flashed his soaked fingers at the camera, as Kara shook, suddenly so cold on the floor.
Kara shivered, but looked up at him. “I-I don’t want it… don’t like it…” Her words seemed hollow given her moaning, and Vale crouched down and slowly forced his fingers into her mouth. Painting her lips as he ran his wet fingers across them. He made her taste herself and suck them clean.
Kara coughed and spat out the taste, as he stood back up. Her own juices running down her chin.
Vale was not yet done.
Again he pulled her up and presented her face first to the camera. “You know, I’ve always admired you in this costume. I think it takes someone bold to wear that sort of outfit and then stand there and tell us how respectable you are.” Kara turned away as best she could, the words were harsh and her pained reaction again was caught on camera. “But honestly, I’ve always been more interested about what’s under here.”
Kara’s breath hitched. She felt Vale’s hand on the collar of her costume. “No… No…” She moaned quietly. “Stop.. s-stop.. You can’t..” But then his other hand was on the other end of the collar. “Please you don’t have to do this…”
He pulled, tearing it slowly, stretching it at first before the entire costume split down the middle. Her S shield was torn in half and he didn’t stop until the costume hung around her shoulders like drapes, split in two.
“W-why…?” Kara whined, tears sliding down her cheek.
Vale ignored her, spoke to the camera. “White sports bra.” He lifted her skirt, flashing her soaked red pants for the camera. “Not matching.”
It was her one costume, the only one she had left from the DEO days, made from tough material. And Vale had used the powers he had stolen from her to rip it open. To desecrate it and degrade her.
He pulled it down over her arms, freeing them, before tossing the torn and destroyed bodysuit onto the floor. Quickly he tore her sports bra off, tossing it at the camera. Her pale tits now on show to the room. “I thought they’d be bigger.” He whispered in her ear, before grabbing one of them and groping her. Teasing her nipple with his fingers. She gasped as he pinched it.
Next her red skirt was effortlessly pulled down around her ankles. A moment later, she was naked as he torn her pants off her body and shoved them into her mouth. It muffled her cries as he swept a hand between her legs again and slowly got rougher with her tits. He pinched, twisted and slapped her.
She was carried to the desk in the centre of the room and tossed over it, papers flying everywhere. She could barely stand, felt her legs kicked out wide and moaned in pain as her head was pressed hard into the desk. She spat the panties out onto the desk.
“Ahhhh…hah.. God.. s-stop…” She gasped as he spanked her again.
“Capture her face.” Vale told Laura, who moved to the other side of the desk and pushed the camera in her face.
“Yes, Mr Vale.”
Kara’s face was caked with fear. Her hair was damp from sweat and limp. Her whole body seemed to have a thin layer of sweat over it. Her tits pressed against the desk and stung in a way she couldn’t understand after Vale’s assault. She had time to think about her suit one last time, how she didn’t have any spares, before she felt his hard cock slam inside her. “AHHHH!!!”
She was soaking wet from earlier, so it was easy for Vale to push himself inside. He began to fuck her hard and deliberate over the table. Slow, long thrusts into her tight pussy. All the while made worse by the fact that the skin on skin of his cock inside her was draining her even further.
“Ah…AHH.. Ughhh… Nnnpp…” Noises came out of Kara that didn’t make sense, she grunted with every hard thrust. No one had ever fucked her like this before. Used her. Disrespected her. The handful of lovers she’d had in her life had been a kind and passionate. The entity in Opal City, the Kryptonians in Utah had been something… but she had never felt this weak and pathetic before. Never been used.
“You’re nothing, hear me, nothing.” He said, voice terrifyingly calm.
Kara groaned and was aware of the abuse he was shouting at her, the pleasure this once charming man was enjoying in taking her down a peg. He pulled her hair, wrapped a hand around her throat and squeezed. Choking her as he fucked her deeper.
“Ahha.. no… pl-…no…” Kara choked out. Earlier, he had nearly made her cum, ruining her orgasm with great pleasure. Now though, an orgasm was far out of her mind.
She felt his cock throb, heard him grunt, heard him scream in her ear and then felt him fill her up. Vale exploded, cumming inside her. He didn’t stop pounding until every drop was inside her pussy. And then, when he was done, he pulled out and let her drop.
No one had ever cum inside Kara, not even Mon El.
She collapsed on the ground, barely conscious. Whatever strength she had left gone from the mix of fucking and power drain. Her chest rose slowly, pained breaths as she coughed and tried to cover up.
“Lets get her down to the lab.” She heard Vale say. “Give me a moment just to freshen up.” She watched him through blurry eyes walk off.
“Mr Vale needs to clean up. Back in a minute.” She heard Laura say. She also left.
Clearly, neither of them saw Kara as a threat. And right now, she wasn’t.
She looked around the room, surveyed it as best she could. She could feel a stranger’s cum leak out over her thighs and she wanted to curl up in a ball - but something, the tiniest amount of defiance kicked in. Kara knew that if she was going to escape, this might be her only chance to do something.
Then she saw it. Her handbag.
She used the little strength she had to crawl over, her hand slid inside the bag and she felt around. She found the communicator. She hit the red emergency button. Nothing happened.
“Stop.” Laura was back, carrying a drink. “Trying to reach your phone are you?” She kicked the bag away from Kara, then measured her with a look, as she loomed over her, saying words that allowed Kara to understand what made her tick. “You are the most powerful woman in the world, and Mr Vale was able to destroy you in about ten minutes.” She said, her voiced awed by the thought of Vale. “He really is an amazing man.”
Laura poured her drink, a gin and tonic over Kara. Why? Why not? Casual cruelty was their stock in trade.
“How is she?” Vale’s voice filled the room again, he had changed into more casual clothes.
“She tried to get her phone. Naughty girl. Don’t worry though, she didn’t manage to call any of her friends.” It crossed Kara’s mind that her friends were thin on the grown at the moment. The gin stung her eyes and she was exhausted.
“Good to see she has some spirit left in her. I was beginning to think what a letdown she’s been. Come on, to the lab.”
Kara had finally blacked out as they carried her down a secret staircase. When she woke up, her wrists were bound to the wall in a lab and Vale was lightly slapping her. “W-what… oh… s-stop…”
She had hit the emergency button on the communicator and nothing had happened. Her heart sank as she realised to herself, no one was going to save her. Vale was going to steal her powers and probably use her however he desired for the rest of the night.
She glanced and saw Laura eyeing her up as she was typing something into a laptop. Laura would probably have her fun too.
Kara strained against the clamps digging into her wrists, but to no avail. She gave up, head sinking to her chest. Her body ached.
“Now, be sure not to include this part in your article.” Vale darkly joked as he gave one of Kara’s tits another slap causing her to yelp again. He turned to Laura. “Ten minutes and I’ll be ready.” His cold words dripped with cruel implication.
He pushed her head back against the wall and clamped another restraint around her, this time around her neck. Kara was choked as he admired his prey.
Then the room filled with his grunts and her gasps. Her wrists and neck bound to the wall, he fucked her as she hung there. Harder and harder. Kara barely able to take it.
This time Laura didn’t record it, she barely paid it any attention. She seemed bored of Kara now. Like she had seen this all before. Her phone rang as she moved some cards on Solitaire. “Miss Moreau. We have a problem.”
“Mr Vale, pays you handsomely to solve problems, why are you calling me.” She turned away to drown out Vale’s moans as he started to thrust inside Kara faster, as he was clearly getting closer to climax once again.
“Yes well. You’re about to have some visitors. We tried to stop them, but-”
As if on cue, there was a loud bang at the door to the lab, then they swung open. “FBI EVERYBODY GET DOWN!”
Vale stopped what he was doing, experienced his own ruined orgasm, as he turned and faced them.
Kara looked up and saw it was Mark, along with two other agents, guns drawn.
Vale wordlessly gave Laura a look and then, just like that without a second thought, he used the stolen super speed to grab her and exit the room and as it would turn out the island, before anyone knew what had happened.
“JESUS!” Mark cried as they flew past him, the wind ruining his perfectly styled hair. He instantly realised what had happened. “Agent Che, Agent King, secure the room.”
Agent Che, tall, black and handsome was the first one to say it, as he stared as the naked and panting Kara tied to the wall. “Is that… fucking Supergirl?”
The room smelled faintly of antiseptic. Not a public hospital. Not even a standard federal facility. It was private, secured and quiet.
Kara lay half-reclined in a narrow medical bed, an IV line taped to her arm she didn’t technically need anymore, but no one had removed yet. Monitors tracked her vitals. Her heart was steady. Her cells were regenerating.
But slowly. Too slowly for her. She still felt weak… dim.
Her body felt like it had been hollowed out. Her strength was coming back in shallow waves, but the effortless power wasn’t there yet. A day of sunlight had helped, but she thought it would take her a week to feel back to normal. Still she was able to hover above the bedsheets now, that was something.
The door opened with a quiet click and Mark stepped in. He looked composed. Pressed shirt as always, sleeves rolled. But there were dark crescents beneath his eyes. “You’re improving.”
“I’ve had worse Mondays.” He didn’t smile. That told her a lot, her gaze sharpened slightly. “What’s the.. the uh… report?”
He hesitated, he knew this wasn’t what she wanted to hear. “Alcatraz is secured. Joint task force. FBI, ARGUS, Task Force X. The island’s locked down. All Vale Industries tech seized.”
Her stomach tightened. “All of it?”
“Labs. Servers. Power systems. The containment units.”
She looked past him, staring at the far wall as if she could see the island through it. “And Vale?”
“He’s gone.”
Her fingers tightened in the blanket. “Gone how?”
“He… uh… well he used the super speed he’d acquired from you to get out of there. Took his assistant Laura Moreau with him too. God knows where they got to. Both are on our most wanted list.”
Kara closed her eyes briefly, she flashed back to how Mark had found her. Captured, tied up and babbling. Completely out of it. “And Rex?”
Mark’s jaw shifted. “No sign of him.”
“He was there… I saw the files. The footage.”
“We’re still processing what we recovered.”
“And Parasite?”
Mark exhaled slowly. “He’s alive. Barely. In custody.” That wasn’t reassuring. He’s… depleted. Medical describes him as a metabolic husk. Severe cellular degradation. Whatever Vale was doing he overused him. Hollowed the poor bastard out.”
Kara pictured the door cracking open. The slumped body inside. The once-dangerous metahuman reduced to something barely breathing. A tool used until it broke.
Her throat tightened. That’s what Vale had had in mind for her too. “So Vale used Parasite to learn how to power drain others.”
“That’s our working theory.”
“And now the government has his research.”
Mark didn’t immediately respond.
She looked at him carefully and clarified. “The tech. The research. The process.”
“It’s evidence.”
“It’s a lot of power.”
Their eyes held. He didn’t deny it. In the back of her mind, a quiet thread pulled. Alcatraz, once a prison, then a corporate lab siphoning superhuman abilities and now a federal black site with confiscated energy harvesting technology.
That wasn’t better. It was just… different hands. Her instincts told her to pull at that thread, to ask questions and to push. But she was so tired. “I should’ve stopped him. She swallowed. “I thought I could outplay him. I-I…” She stopped herself, she didn’t want to go any further and risk her secret identity.
Mark stepped closer to the bed. “Unfortunately you were compromised the moment you arrived.”
She frowned faintly. “What?”
“The lead lined infrastructure wasn’t new. You didn’t feel weak because he grabbed you. You felt weak because you were inside his… field or whatever you want to call it. That seems to be how his powers work. He didn’t need to even touch you.”
She exhaled slowly.
Mark reached down and lifted a clear evidence bag from the chair beside him. Her suit, well what remained of it at least. The red and blue were dulled with scorch marks. The S shield torn jaggedly across the centre. He placed it gently in her lap.
She stared at it, not fully processing what she was looking at.
Mark then set down another bag beside it.
Her handbag.
She hesitated before reaching for it. Her movements were slower than usual. She unzipped it and sifted through familiar items until her fingers brushed hard plastic.
The visitor’s badge. KARA DANVERS: CATCO MEDIA
Her photo smiling brightly. Access timestamped.
She froze. Slowly, she looked up and Mark didn’t look away. “I found it in Vale’s office. I assumed it would be better in your hands rather than our evidence locker.”
The implication hovered between them.
“You could’ve told the Director. The… the President.”
“I could have.”
“You didn’t.”
“No.”
Her throat tightened unexpectedly. For all her insistence on independence, on doing things her way, on keeping her identities separate, Mark had still found out her secret. Yet, he hadn’t weaponised it. She looked down at the ripped S shield again.
“I tried to prove I didn’t need you watching me.”
“You don’t, you just need a little… backup.”
A faint, tired laugh escaped her. “That’s bureaucrat for ‘don’t go rogue.’”
She leaned back into the pillow. Her body ached. She hated how shaken she still felt. Physically and internally. Vale’s hand around her wrist. The certainty in his voice. The way her strength had drained so easily. How they had humiliated and used her.
For the first time since she’d come to Earth, she’d felt finite. Limited. All too human.
Excerpt from the CatCo Editorial BoardArticle: Pulitzer Prize–Winning Journalist Kara Danvers Caught in Incredible Situation at Alcatraz Facility
*Our Pulitzer Prize winning journalist Kara Danvers recently accepted an invitation to tour a cutting edge energy startup on Alcatraz Island, because nothing says “transparency” like a former maximum-security prison.
What followed involved experimental technology, fleeing executives, a multi-agency federal seizure of the premises and an emergency extraction that was decidedly not on the press itinerary.
Vale Industries’ leadership has since disappeared, the island is now under government control, and several serious questions about metahuman research ethics are being asked very loudly in very classified rooms.
Danvers is recovering well - physically, at least - and has added “check if her interviewee is under Government review” to her standard pre-interview preparation checklist.
Alcatraz remains consistent in its mission statement. People go in confident and leave reconsidering their life choices.