[Ren POV]
The cargo bay was cold, loud, and smelled like engine oil.
It was not exactly luxury, but it was still better than being chained to a seat like last time.
Across from us sat the EU Marine escort squad. Nine of them. Black-and-green combat gear, weapons secured, eyes sharp. They watched us with the kind of curiosity soldiers used when they were trying not to look curious.
At least they were not hostile, which already put them above half the humans I had met.
A younger Marine broke first. "I thought demons would look more... demonic."
Marasuki tilted her head. "Want me to growl?"
The poor guy blinked at her.
"Easy, Rook," their captain said. "Not everyone grew up reading demon training manuals."
Captain Isolde. Calm voice. Clean posture. The kind of officer who looked like she slept four hours a night and still judged everyone else for being tired.
"Sorry," Rook muttered. "You just look normal."
I stretched my legs out with a grin. "Flattering. Don't worry, though. We bite."
Sara gave him a cheerful thumbs-up. "She bites if you're nice, too."
A few of the Marines laughed, and even Marasuki smirked. The cargo bay did not exactly turn friendly, but it stopped feeling one bad joke away from someone reaching for a weapon.
"You're really the point lead?" another Marine asked.
"Yeah," I said. "Ren Daimonas. Half-demon, full headache."
An older Marine snorted. "You are a royal? Did not expect a royal to ride cargo."
"I did not expect Marines as an escort, so we are all learning today."
Lucas nudged Hendrian. "Less stiff than I thought."
Hendrian gave him a look that said not now before his face went back to pretending he was calm.
He was not calm. Hendrian had never been good at pretending otherwise, and being dropped into the Human Realm with a military escort was not helping.
Lucas, on the other hand, looked far too relaxed for someone who had no idea what he was walking into. That was probably worse.
The others were doing fine, but I could see the nerves in the small things. Sara kept checking the translator around her neck. Tim had one hand on his knee and kept tapping his fingers. Julia sat with her arms folded, watching the Marines like one of them might shed a second skin. Serena looked relaxed, which meant she was probably paying attention to everything.
They were learning, slowly enough to annoy me, but it still counted.
"How long until we land?" Julia asked.
"About seven hours," Captain Isolde said, checking her wrist display. "We're heading straight to Kriti military base."
"Kriti is not a war zone?" Hendrian asked.
"No," Isolde said. "Coordination point. Staging, command, logistics. That kind of headache."
"Great," I said. "First stop Kriti, then the four fort sectors."
Isolde gave me a small nod. "That's the plan."
The rest of the flight eased after that. Not fully, but enough that the Marines started joking about powdered eggs, bad bunks, and some cursed shower setup on base. Julia listened for about three seconds before one Marine made a joke about shower toilets.
"One more word," she said, "and I will weaponize a toothbrush."
He went pale.
The Marines laughed. Julia did not, but the corner of her mouth twitched, so I counted it as progress.
The intercom crackled. "Landing in two minutes."
The jokes died.
Everyone straightened. Bags were secured. Weapons checked. Hendrian fiddled with his translator again until Lucas slapped his hand away.
"Stop touching it," Lucas muttered. "You look nervous."
"I am nervous."
"Then look cooler while doing it."
"That is terrible advice."
I glanced at Captain Isolde. "See you on the ground."
She gave a curt nod. "Take care, Princess... I mean, Ren."
"Please don't start that already."
The cargo plane dipped, rattled, then touched down hard enough to make Sara grab the seat strap beside her.
"Smooth," I said.
Isolde stood. "That was smooth."
"Humans have low standards," Julia muttered to herself.
The ramp dropped, and the cargo bay filled with salt air, engine heat, and the sharp smell of a military base near the sea.
Kriti.
The base spread out beyond the ramp in clean lines of concrete, steel, and floodlights. Barracks blocks sat behind vehicle lanes. Anti-air platforms watched the horizon. Shield towers rose along the outer line, inactive for now, but ready. Human bases always had that same feeling. Too much metal, too many rules, and not enough places to nap.
Captain Isolde stepped down first.
Then I saw General Zelda.
She stood near the landing zone with steel in her posture and no wasted movement. Short dark hair. Older, somewhere in her sixties. Medals on her uniform, but not too many. Enough to say she had earned them, not enough to scream for attention.
That was usually a good sign.
I stepped off the ramp and walked toward her.
"General Zelda," I said. "Good evening."
She took my hand in a firm grip. "Heard plenty about you. Tall demon."
"Half-breed," I said. "Only half the problem."
Her brow rose. "Point lead for the royal group and Marasuki?"
"Apparently."
"That sounds unwilling."
"It was a group crime."
Marasuki gave a dry snort behind me.
Zelda looked past me at the others. "The Saintess is in medbay. Emergency work. She will meet you later."
"Already working before we arrive," I said.
"Now," Zelda said, turning her attention to the group, "introductions."
I gestured with one hand. "Hendrian, Tim, and Lucas. Marasuki, my field partner. Julia is support. Sara is enthusiastic. Serena is third. I am Ren Daimonas, unfortunately in charge."
"Unfortunately?" Zelda asked.
"For everyone involved."
Her mouth twitched.
Then she switched to Narlic.
"Welcome to the Human Realm, and to Europe. Some people will stare. Ignore them unless they become stupid."
Her Narlic was rough, but understandable. That got my attention more than the greeting.
A few of the others straightened. Even Julia looked a little more respectful after that.
"Thank you, General," Hendrian said in Narlic.
Lucas managed a proper nod. Sara waved, then seemed to remember this was a military base and lowered her hand.
Captain Isolde stepped in before the awkwardness grew legs. "I'll take the group to quarters."
"Thank you, Captain," Zelda said. "Ren, you're with me."
"Of course."
I followed Zelda across the tarmac and into the command building. Inside, the air smelled like coffee, metal, and old stress. The war room had a roundtable in the center with maps projected over it. Six lieutenant generals were already seated. Eight chairs were empty.
So not the full circus yet.
"Preliminary debrief," Zelda said. "The full joint meeting starts in two days. For now, Kriti is stable, but the outer defense sectors are under pressure. Four scout teams are out, one each for Mocha and Dhubab, Ismaila, Palerma, and Gibraltar."
I moved closer to the map.
The four sectors lit up in different colors. Coastal routes. Mountain lines. Supply paths. Civilian zones marked behind layered defense grids. It was not perfect, but it was not stupid either.
"Any wave estimate?" I asked.
One lieutenant answered. "Current signs point to movement within the next few weeks. Could be sooner if the scouts are being pushed."
"Monster type?"
"Mixed. Too mixed for comfort."
That meant someone was either driving them or something big had shifted.
I tapped the four fort sector icons. "Deployment plan?"
Zelda folded her hands. "Original suggestion was to spread your group across all four sectors. One or two of yours at each location."
"Bad idea."
A lieutenant frowned. "You have not even heard the reasoning."
"I can guess it," I said. "Symbolic unity, shared oversight, less pressure on one command area. Also splits the demons thin enough that no one panics about a royal group staying together."
The lieutenant shut his mouth.
Zelda watched me for a second. "Go on."
"If you scatter them completely, they become mascots with weapons. They do not know human procedures yet. Humans do not know how they fight. That gets people killed."
"And your alternative?" Zelda asked.
"Keep some cohesion. Marasuki and I take the heavier independent sectors. Palerma and Gibraltar. My sisters handle Ismaila with the Saintess's team. My brothers work Mocha and Dhubab with you."
Lucas was going to hate that, which made it funnier.
One of the lieutenants leaned back. "That puts a lot of trust in you."
"No," I said. "It puts pressure on me. Different thing."
Zelda looked at the map, then at me. She did not approve immediately, which I liked. A commander who accepted a plan too fast was either lazy or desperate.
"Marasuki at Palerma," she said. "Island fort sector. Naval routes, supply checks, coastal pressure."
"She can handle it."
"Gibraltar for you," Zelda continued. "Mountain chokepoint. Northern supply line. Fast response needed."
"That is why I picked it."
"Ismaila with your sisters and the Saintess's team. More support-heavy, but still dangerous."
"Julia and Serena can keep Sara from doing something heroic and stupid."
Sara was not in the room to defend herself, which made the statement safer.
"Mocha and Dhubab with your brothers under my direct oversight," Zelda said.
"Good. Hendrian needs structure, Lucas needs someone he cannot argue with, and Tim needs both."
One lieutenant scoffed. "This demon's audacity..."
"Lieutenant," Zelda snapped.
He went quiet fast.
I smiled at him. Not nicely.
Zelda looked back at the map. "The plan is unusual, but it keeps your people from being isolated and gives each sector a clear human command link. I will approve it as preliminary. Final confirmation happens in two days."
"Works for me."
"How does the Saintess fit into your expectation?" Zelda asked.
"She is good with people, good with pressure, and she owes me."
Zelda's eyebrow lifted.
"Long story."
"Most things around you seem to be."
"Sadly."
She flipped through another set of files. "Five U.S. Marine units are arriving as support. They usually cooperate when the shooting starts, but your history with humans may cause problems."
"That is a polite way to say they might be assholes."
"Yes."
"Marasuki and I can manage hostile behavior."
"I expect you to manage it without starting a diplomatic incident."
"I'll behave enough."
Zelda studied me for a moment, then chuckled under her breath. "Final plans in two days."
I leaned over the map again. "Quick question. Which bars do your Marines use?"
She gave me a flat look. "Trying to stay under the radar?"
"No. I want them used to us before the shooting starts."
"By drinking with them?"
"Humans bond over bad alcohol and worse decisions. I am respecting your culture."
One lieutenant coughed like he was trying not to laugh.
Zelda shook her head. "That might become chaos."
"Probably, but useful chaos."
"Useful chaos is still chaos."
"Yes, but with paperwork afterward."
For some reason, that made her smile.
When the lieutenants filtered out, Zelda stayed behind with me. The war room felt larger without their eyes on us.
"You handled that better than I expected," she said.
"Most people expect me to snap faster."
"Do you?"
"Depends who is talking."
"That lieutenant?"
"Not worth the energy."
Zelda nodded slightly. "Your people respect you even though you are half human."
"They trust me. Different thing."
"Trust is harder."
"Being their sister helps," I said. "But I still had to earn it."
She studied me again, less like a general looking at an asset and more like a soldier measuring another soldier.
"You will need that trust with the American Marines."
"Will they follow orders?"
"They will."
"That sounded confident."
"My command cares about results, not heritage."
"And if someone refuses?"
Zelda's gaze hardened. "Then they answer to me. They know that."
I could work with that answer.
"I lost good soldiers to bad command," she said. "I do not tolerate ego in the chain."
"Then we might get along."
"Do not push your luck."
"No promises there either."
Her half-smile returned, small but real.
The map hummed between us. Four sectors. Too many pressure points. Not enough time. Same old military nonsense, just with different flags.
"Your group looks solid," Zelda said. "Messy, but solid. Tension and trust. It can work."
"They're family," I said. "Messy, loud, and annoying, but family."
"Families can be quite complicated sometimes."
"I noticed."
Zelda stood. "Two days. I will prepare the rest of the generals."
I shook her hand again. This time, it felt less like a greeting and more like an agreement.
"We'll hold both sides in line," I said.
"We'll hold ours," she answered. "Maybe next time you will call me Zelda."
"Looking forward to it."
"Earn it first, though."
"Fair."
Captain Isolde showed me to the temporary quarters after that. The others were already there.
The barracks were plain but functional. Converted military housing. Three sections, bunk beds against the walls, a large table in the middle, lockers that looked like they had survived at least two wars, and duffel bags already dumped in corners.
It was not a royal suite. No one complained, and if someone had not slept somewhere worse before, they were about to build character.
I gathered everyone around the table once we were settled. Marasuki leaned against the wall. Lucas claimed a chair backward like he wanted someone to comment. Hendrian sat properly because of course he did. Tim looked tired. Sara looked ready to explore. Julia stood with folded arms. Serena sat on the edge of the table until Julia gave her a look, then slid down with a grin.
"Alright," I said, spreading the map copy Zelda had given me over the table. "Quick debrief before anyone disappears and causes a problem."
Lucas raised a hand.
"No."
"I did not even ask."
"You were going to ask if causing problems was banned."
He lowered his hand.
I tapped the map. "We have two days before the rest of the human forces arrive and the full joint ops meeting starts. Until then, we learn the base, watch how they work, and get them used to us."
Sara leaned forward. "You mean make friends?"
"Friends. Allies. Drinking buddies. People less likely to shoot near us because they panicked. Whatever works."
Marasuki stretched her shoulders. "The escort squad was decent."
"Except the one who nearly got himself castrated," Julia said.
Serena smirked. "That was flirting. Bad flirting, but still flirting."
Lucas raised an eyebrow. "Are we seriously making friends as part of the mission?"
"Yes," I said.
"That is stupid."
"That is war."
Hendrian sighed. "It might help. Better to get the awkwardness out now than during a fight."
"Exactly," I said. "Tomorrow, split up naturally. Training field, mess hall, rec zones. Talk if they talk. Observe if they do not. Do not force it, but do not hide in a demon pile either."
Tim frowned. "Are you giving us assignments?"
"No. This is not kindergarten."
Sara looked disappointed.
I pointed at her. "And no, that does not mean you can challenge everyone you meet."
She closed her mouth.
Serena leaned back in her chair. "Are you doing the same?"
"I have meetings with Zelda and base command first. After that, yes, I will mingle."
A short silence followed before Sara slowly raised her hand.
"Can we challenge them to a drinking contest?"
"No," I said immediately.
Marasuki grinned. "I vote yes."
Lucas nodded. "Also yes."
Hendrian rubbed his face. "Gods help us."
"Fine," I said. "But do not start a fight you cannot win, and do not create a hangover you cannot hide."
Sara pumped her fist. Lucas looked pleased. Marasuki looked like she had already planned three bad ideas. Even Julia cracked the smallest smile, which told me the base was wearing everyone down in the right direction.
As everyone started unpacking and claiming bunks, I stayed by the table for a moment and watched them.
The nerves were still there because it was a new place, full of new species, too many uniforms, and not enough trust. But it had softened enough that the room no longer felt like a temporary holding cell for a diplomatic incident.
Then Lucas tried to claim the best bunk by saying royal seniority applied outside the Demon Realm.
Julia threw a pillow at his head.
That sounded more like home.