Transmigrated as the Villainess Princess

With fifteen engines damaged, the starship's mobility was severely compromised.

Ahcehera quickly activated her communication link with Agartha's satellite, sending out an urgent distress signal.

Her royal status and rank as a Senior Military Strategist expedited the response.

Within moments, the horizon of space lit up as another starship emerged from hyperspace, bearing the mark of Agartha Central Military Base.

The rescue team wasted no time docking with the damaged vessel and securing its passengers.

The crew aboard the broken starship couldn't stop thanking Ahcehera, their gratitude was evident in their words and expressions.

Many of them bowed or saluted her as she passed, murmuring their admiration and relief.

"Princess, your leadership saved us."

"Thank you, Your Highness. Without you, we wouldn't have survived."

Ahcehera gave them a faint smile, acknowledging their gratitude before excusing herself to return to her new quarters.

Exhaustion began to creep in, and her stomach growled, an urgent reminder of her hunger.

Once in her room, she entered Cresencia and retrieved a portion of the home-cooked meals she had stored earlier.

The aroma of the warm food filled the room, bringing her a sense of comfort after the chaos. Sitting down, she began to eat while replaying the events of the battle in her mind.

Her hands trembled slightly as she recalled how effortlessly she had commanded the soldiers, issued precise orders, and executed battle strategies that seemed far beyond her current experience.

What just happened out there? she thought, pausing mid-bite.

Her body had acted almost automatically as if guided by a force she couldn't explain.

Every movement, every command during the battle felt instinctual yet foreign, as though someone else had taken over her actions.

Was it instincts? Or... something else?

She frowned, thinking back to her past life.

Sniping had been her forte then, a skill she had honed with precision and focus. The way she had directed the snipers and hit every target earlier felt eerily similar.

"I admit, sniping was my best skill before... but this?" she whispered to herself, setting her utensils down.

"It's as if those instincts have been sharpened even more now. My body, my mind... everything felt so familiar, so certain."

She leaned back, her thoughts swirling. The adrenaline from the battle had masked the questions she now found herself grappling with.

The sudden surge of knowledge and accuracy had worn off, leaving her feeling both amazed and unsettled.

Who am I becoming? And why now?

Ahcehera stared at the ceiling, her mind a storm of thoughts.

I don't understand it. Does my body possess forgotten memories?

She sat by the window, gazing at the expanse of stars beyond the glass.

Their distant glow offered no comfort, only fueling her restless anticipation.

The starship was approaching the spaceport of Agartha's Central Military Base, its sleek form cutting through the vastness of space like a silent sentinel.

Will I meet the hero of the novel?

Will he appear when the starship lands?

Her fingers tapped idly against the armrest, a rhythmic beat of her unease. The uncertainty of what awaited her clawed at her composure.

I don't know what lies ahead... but why does it feel so heavy?

Unable to sit still, Ahcehera decided to distract herself. She retrieved a chilled can of milk from her storage and sipped it slowly, savoring the calming taste.

It grounded her, however briefly, in the moment.

When the starship finally docked at the bustling spaceport, the sight awaiting them was nothing short of overwhelming.

Rows of military personnel stood at attention, their uniforms crisp and immaculate.

A fleet of medical staff, clad in pristine white and armed with the most advanced equipment, stood ready to assist the injured passengers.

The sheer efficiency of Agartha's Central Military Base was a testament to its prestige.

Descending the starship's ramp, Ahcehera's presence immediately commanded attention.

Whispers rippled through the crowd as eyes turned to her. Yet, she remained composed, her expression unreadable.

By now, everyone must have heard of the news.

The trending search should be revealing that I, the princess, am a peerless genius, hiding my real strength.

I became an unexpected senior military strategist on the battlefield at such a young age.

It might have also reached the Starnet.

Halfway down, she was greeted by Admiral Stone, a towering figure clad in his decorated uniform.

As one of Agartha's most esteemed officers, he held the critical responsibility of defending the southern border. Despite his rank, he bowed respectfully before her.

"Greetings to Your Highness!" he said, his voice firm yet reverent.

"Hello, Admiral Stone," Ahcehera replied, her tone polite but distant.

She acknowledged him with a subtle nod. Among the sea of faces, he alone held the highest rank present, but even so, his position was beneath hers.

"Princess," he continued, his expression softening, "I have heard the news of your valor. How are you holding up?"

"I am well, Admiral Stone. Thank you for your concern," she said, her voice steady and calm.

Then, after a pause, she added, "However, I must insist that you address me as Strategist Hera. In the military, there is no royal blood, only ranks and responsibilities."

The admiral straightened at her words, his respect deepening. "Understood, Strategist Hera."

Satisfied with his response, Ahcehera inclined her head slightly. "If there is nothing else, I shall take my leave."

"Of course, Strategist," Admiral Stone replied, stepping aside.

Without further delay, Ahcehera strode toward her office.

The towering structures of Agartha's base loomed around her, their metallic surfaces gleaming under the artificial lighting of the spaceport.

Her mind was already racing, sorting through the tasks she needed to address.

Though her exterior remained calm and collected, the restlessness within her refused to dissipate.

For all her careful planning, Ahcehera couldn't shake the feeling that something, or someone, significant was waiting just beyond the horizon.

She was not wrong.

A man was standing outside of her door.

When the man met her gaze, she immediately realized his identity.

Why is he standing outside my office?

What made him wait here?

Does he have any business with me?