The base slept.
Most of it, anyway.
Faint firelight crackled along the main road, low-burning torches swaying in iron holders. Thin smoke curled up from cookpots left to cool near the mess tents. Wind rustled through the trees, brushing across canvas and wooden walls like the gentle drag of fingertips.
The moon hung above—broken by clouds. Cold.
Two guards patrolled the eastern path, rifles across their chests, boots crunching gravel with every step. They spoke in low voices—tired, bored, mentioning something about stew rations being too thin lately.
A few engineers still worked at the central generator tent, running crystal diagnostics by lantern light.
Everyone else slept.
Nearly four hundred men, silent inside their tents. Some snored. Others shifted beneath wool blankets. Rifles leaned against bedposts. Ammo belts coiled beside boots. Helmets hung from hooks in quiet readiness.
It was peace.
Until—
BOOOOM.
A sound from below.
No—not below. From above the earth. Deep. Low. Like stone grinding against stone. Like something vast awakening underfoot.
The ground rumbled. Lamps flickered. The eastern watchtower rattled on its supports.
Then came shouting.
"Towers! Check the towers!"
"Was that an explosion!?"
Officers burst from their tents, throwing on jackets, grabbing sidearms and radios.
"Wake them! Get them moving—NOW!"
Within seconds, soldiers were dragging each other from bunks, stumbling into their boots, buckling gear as they sprinted through the firelit fog.
Truck crews scrambled to position.
One by one, the trucks rumbled to life—gears whining, exhaust hissing. Mounted guns were uncovered and reloaded. Steam vents opened. Blue runes began to glow along the sides of armored plates.
Inside the central officer's tent, maps were thrown open, signal crystals lit, and the emergency lanterns were raised.
Leon emerged from his tent, boots unlaced, rifle over his shoulder, eyes scanning the chaos.
Troops ran in formation toward the wall.
Others clutched rifles and scanned the tree line.
"Positions! Keep your eyes on the forest!" "Check the southern ridge—look for muzzle flashes!" "No one's to fire until command confirms visual!"
Leon stormed down the central path, eyes darting to the rising steam from the trucks, the scrambling men, the red glow from the emergency lamps.
He walked briskly toward the tent he had designated two weeks ago—Emergency Command Only. Every officer had been briefed. In case of an unknown threat, this was the room they were to fall back to.
He pushed aside the flap.
Four officers were already inside—standing, some half-dressed, one still barefoot. Papers were scattered. A portable signal unit pulsed in the corner.
Leon stepped in, voice low but commanding:
"What the hell is going on?"
The ranking officer, Lieutenant Markus, looked up from a shortwave crystal.
"We don't know, sir. The sound came from the sky—or at least it echoed like it. Loud. Twice. We reacted under standard unknown-contact protocol."
Leon's eyes narrowed. "Anything visual?"
Markus shook his head. "Nothing from our forward patrols. None of the wall squads have reported enemy movement yet."
Leon's jaw clenched. "Keep trying."
Another BOOM cut through the camp—this one sharper, closer, shaking the very walls of the tent. The lamp swayed on its chain. Men outside shouted again.
Then—footsteps. Running.
A soldier pushed into the tent, panting.
"We have contact, sir!"
Leon stepped forward.
"How many?"
The soldier shook his head, sweat pouring from his brow. "We don't know! Gunfire just started near the north wall! It's— it's something new!"
Leon cursed under his breath.
"Dammit."
Behind him, Ochs entered, breath visible in the cold.
"I'll contact Berlin. And the other bases. High alert status. If something's out there, I want every outpost awake."
Leon nodded. "Go."
Ochs was already out the flap before the word left Leon's mouth.
Leon turned to the signal officer in the corner.
"Open the wall channel. Now."
The man twisted the dial.
Leon grabbed the radio horn.
"This is Leon. Northeast wall unit—what's happening?"
A second passed. Then—
"Commander! We've got visual on three targets! Two pale ones—confirmed! Third target… it's a woman!"
Leon blinked. "Say again?"
"A woman, sir. At least it looks like one. Pale skin, black dress, long hair, but—"
Gunfire cracked in the background.
"—but she has horns, sir! Curling from the sides of her head! We are firing but something is stopping the bullets!"
Leon stared at the wall of the tent, voice quiet.
"…Did you just say a woman with horns?"
"Yes, Commander. Two total. And we're not slowing them down!"
Markus stepped back from the table, face pale.
"…A demi-human?"
Everyone in the tent froze.
No one spoke.
Only the sound of distant gunfire echoed through the trees.
A voice—not shouted, not screamed—rumbled through the entire base, vibrating through the wooden walls, rattling lanterns, shaking breath from men's lungs.
It was a woman's voice.But layered.Echoing.Like it was spoken from a throat that didn't belong to mortals.
"Bring me your leader."
Every man froze.
The radio went silent.The trucks' engines growled low.The wind itself stopped moving.
Then the voice came again, louder.
"I will not ask a second time. Do so… or I will bring ruin to your pitiful people."
Leon's heart slammed against his ribs.
He turned slowly toward his officers.
None of them breathed.None of them blinked.
Then—
BOOOOM.
The voice again, closer, sharper, carrying fury with it:
"FIVE MINUTES."
Outside, the gunfire erupted again—rifles cracking, repeaters shredding the treeline, soldiers shouting incoherently.
Leon grabbed the radio horn and screamed:
"ALL UNITS—HOLD FIRE! HOLD YOUR DAMN FIRE!"
Twenty seconds passed.
A long, painful twenty.
Then—Silence.
Only the echo of spent shells rolling across planks.
Leon exhaled once, forcing the tension down his spine.
He turned to the officers.
"Do we still have another truck available?"
The room stared at him.
One officer, Lieutenant Markus, stepped forward, voice cracking:
"Sir… are you really going out there?"
Leon looked him dead in the eye.
"That thing can talk. That means it's rational. If it wanted us dead, we'd be dead already."
Markus swallowed hard.
"…Yes, sir."
He bolted out of the tent.
Forty seconds later—
VRRRRMMMM—K-CHUNK!
An iron truck screeched around the corner, brakes kicking dust into the air. Its headlights cut wide beams through the fog, illuminating the walls and dozens of tense soldiers.
"Truck's ready, sir!" Markus shouted from the driver's seat, face pale, knuckles white on the wheel.
Leon climbed aboard without hesitation.
Behind him, five more trucks rolled into formation, engines humming, their crews whispering nervously.
The convoy rumbled toward the main gate.
Steam hissed from side vents. Blue rune lights flickered under the armored plates. Soldiers stood in the back beds with repeaters primed, though their hands shook.
When they reached the gate, the guards were already positioned on top, rifles aimed outward.
Leon raised his hand.
"Open it."
Chains clattered.The great wooden gate groaned open, revealing the dark treeline beyond.
Fog rolled in.Cold air slapped against Leon's face.
And then—
She appeared.
Standing alone far in the road.
Tall. Graceful. Terrifying.
Two black horns curved back from her skull, glowing faintly with red cracks of heat near the base. Her eyes—red, burning, like embers floating in oil—locked onto Leon the moment the headlights touched her.
Her hair fell in smooth dark waves down her back.Her clothing clung to her form like something woven from shadow and silk.
She did not breathe hard. She did not flinch. She did not step back from the guns aimed at her face.
She simply… waited.
Behind Leon, soldiers muttered.
"Dayum… if she wasn't our enemy—"
"Bro, shut up—"
"No but for real, holy shit—"
"She's a demi-human, man!"
"Yeah but still—fuck—"
"Keep your voices down! She can probably hear you!"
Leon stepped off the truck before the driver could say a word.
"Sir—!" the officer started.
Leon didn't look back.
He walked forward alone, boots crunching gravel, eyes locked on the horned woman. The gate guards shifted nervously. The soldiers in the truck beds tightened grips on their weapons.
Leon raised his voice—loud, commanding, unwavering.
"HOLD FIRE!"
The horned woman smiled.
Her red eyes glowed like molten coals. Her black dress flowed like smoke. Her horns arched back, smooth as polished onyx, with thin ember-colored veins flickering just beneath the surface.
She tilted her head, lips curling with playful menace.
Leon stepped forward, boots crunching over gravel. He stopped a few meters from her — close enough to feel the heat pulsing off her skin like a furnace.
He met her eyes calmly.
Leon: "So… you're the one behind the attacks?"
Manevela (smiling): "Mmm, something like that."
Leon (steady): "Then allow me to introduce myself properly. I'm the one commanding this base. And you are… who? Or what?"
She bowed slightly, the motion elegant but laced with mockery. "I am Manevela. And I am what your kind would call… a demon."
A ripple went through the soldiers behind him — gasps, muttered curses, grips tightening on rifle stocks. One man whispered a prayer.
Leon stood firm.
"Interesting," he said. "So I'm guessing those wolves — and the pale ones — were yours?"
Manevela blinked once, then gave a soft, melodic laugh.
"'Pale ones'? Oh, no, sweetie… those aren't pale ones. Those are my children."
Leon's expression darkened."…Children."
"Yes," she said casually, like she were speaking of pets. "I make them. From the people I slaughter."
Gasps. One soldier gagged. Another cursed under his breath.
Leon's jaw tightened.
"Can't say I'm surprised." He narrowed his eyes. "So… why now? Why show yourself?"
Manevela clasped her hands behind her back, like a teacher scolding a slow student.
"Simple. You're trespassing. I tried to wipe you out with my pets."
She gestured lazily at the forest.
"But as you can see… that failed. Quite miserably."
Leon didn't blink.
"So you want us to leave."
"Correct!" She beamed.
"And if we don't?"
She shrugged.
"Then… we'll leave you alone."
Leon raised a brow. "What?"
She sighed like he was being dense.
"I'll leave you alone. On one condition."
"Which is?"
She stepped closer. The soldiers behind Leon flinched.
"Don't hurt my toys anymore."
Leon stared."…Your toys?"
She tapped a finger to her temple. "The ones you call pale ones. The beasts you've been gunning down ever since your kind landed here. Humans. Elves. Dwarves — you've all hunted my creations like rabid dogs."
"They're abominations."
Her smile vanished.
"They matter to me." She lowered her voice. "I was stationed here after the last war — left behind to guard this cursed forest. "They said it would be one decade. I've waited here for fifteen."
She exhaled slowly, then chuckled.
"So I make pets. Companions. They obey. They don't complain. They listen." She narrowed her eyes. "And it would be nice… to have someone new to talk to."
Leon kept his voice steady.
"So what is it you really want?"
She threw her arms up, exasperated. "Oh my gods — am I talking to trees? I want someone to talk to, dammit!"
Some soldiers laughed nervously.
Leon rubbed his temple. "Fine. Then let me ask something first."
Her posture straightened. "Anything." She smiled. "I love questions."
Leon took a slow breath.
"First — this language. German. Is it your native tongue? Second — where are you from? And third — why now?"
Manevela lit up.
"German?" she mused. "No… not my native tongue. But I've heard it so much these past hundred years, I picked it up naturally. I didn't even know it had a name."
She placed a hand over her chest. "I'm from the Demon Continent — far beyond this forest. And why now?" She pointed at the trucks behind him. "Because your kind came in numbers. With strange machines. With fire and steel. I couldn't resist."
She leaned in slightly, her voice low and amused. "Curiosity is dangerous in demons."
Then she stepped back and grinned.
"Now my turn — what are you here for?"
Leon sighed.
"I don't know."
She blinked. "Excuse me?"
"I lead this base, yes. But I'm also just following orders. We're establishing a foothold. Exploring."
"So… your higher-ups sent you?"
"Yes."
"Then let me speak with them."
Leon shook his head. "They're not here."
She blinked twice.
"Then how do you take orders?"
He smirked faintly. "It's… complicated. Honestly, I don't understand it myself."
She laughed.
"Humans are weird. Very well — since they're not here, I assume you won't mind if I stay the night? I'd like to observe… everything."
Leon hesitated.
"If you stay… you need to call off the pale ones."
She groaned. "Fine. Fine."
She snapped her fingers.
The pale ones beside her let out raspy growls and retreated into the shadows, vanishing like ghosts.
She spun back toward Leon."There. Happy?"
Leon gestured to the lead truck."Aren't you getting in? If you're staying, you'll need to enter the base."
She raised a brow, then smirked.
"Right."
She floated gently off the ground and drifted toward the truck like smoke.
Soldiers whispered behind Leon:
"Bro… no way."
"She's a demon, man…"
"Then why's she so—"
"Shut up."
"We're dead."
"I'd die smiling if she kills me."
Leon spun.
"HOLD YOUR MOUTHS!"
Silence fell.
Manevela reached the truck. Her glowing eyes scanned the men with detached amusement. Then she stepped inside.
Leon climbed in after her.
The truck's engine roared to life.
And behind them, the reinforced gates of Stützpunkt Eisen began to close.