Animated Sentinel Prime Novels & Stories

Resting his head on the top of my own, we waited until Tenny seemed to find what he was looking for. "Ah, yes." He pointed to a page that was decorated in gold and silver - actual flakes of the elements if I wasn't mistaken. "This figure is the Prime." The figure was neither male or female by external markers. Haloed in colors from concentric circles of palest to darkest, the Prime stood on what looked to be a bed of snakes. Each snake was eating the tail of the snake closest to it. Each snake was a slightly different color as well. Dozens of lines ran from Prime to the snakes. From Prime's hands, body, face, feet. Everywhere. Prime looked vaguely like a voodoo doll.

Tenderly, I reach out to touch one of the dancing, rotating discs, and I see it again. The long and winding red whisp, but it's circling the discs, dancing to the beat, jerking in tune with them. I don't want to touch the door anymore, instead, I need to grab onto this line, pull hard onto the red strings of fate, but someone pulls me back. It is Seth. "What are you doing to my defenses? This is to keep us safe while we sleep," Seth says. "I was only—" "Why were you staring at it for minutes on end?"

The sentinel's visor gleamed red and sent a laser beam his way, the light caught him unawares, hitting him in the chest and sent him spiralling out of the air onto the second sentinel's waiting arms who in turn slammed him against the chamber floor with a bone wreaking sound. Obiora was stunned yet he strained to get out from the robot's ironclasp grip as it introduce his face repeatedly to the floor but he barely bulged, that was when he realised that he was in trouble. These aren't just ordinary hunks of metals, they were the advanced A.I driven combat bots Shetimma warned them about, in his short existence, he had yet to meet something as strong as he was and now he was been held like an

I whispered into the cold glass, my jaw tightening until the muscle clicked. I reached into my pocket, pulling out my personal encrypted satellite communicator—an isolated, military-grade transceiver that bypassed civilian cellular networks entirely, routing directly to an Ambrose Tech orbital node. The screen flared to life in a muted, tactical green. I keyed the primary emergency channel. "This is Ambrose. Alpha Prime Protocol," I said, my baritone dropping into a flat, lethal octave that carried zero emotional resonance. "The primary residence has sustained a hard line infrastructure cut and localized auxiliary tampering. I am in the dark. The asset is secure within the structural core."

"The Capital has deployed an automated iron-clad sentinel legion at the edge of the land-bridge—three hundred pre-war unmanned combat frames programmed to shred anything that crosses the permafrost line. Hold the wheel. The moment the tracks hit the frozen highway, I’m taking the forward drop pods straight into their command network." ​"We don't just break them, Julian," Vivian murmured, leaning into his fierce physical protection as her fingers locked the final administrative override into her wrist terminal. "The automated sentinel frames utilize the satellite's dead-man frequency to maintain their targeting cohesion. The moment we blow the permafrost into solid granite, my terminal will m

“Sentinel was a shadow program, built by the Black Sun Coalition. It was meant to outlive humanity. To replace all forms of government, economy, and warfare with self-regulating synthetic control.” Kira stepped back. “You’re saying another AI just woke up?” Evryn shook her head slowly. “Not just one. Thousands.” The team gathered in the main war room beneath the resistance compound. Evryn stood before the projection, hands trembling—not from fear, but from the gravitational weight of what she was about to say. “I accessed part of Sentinel’s activation code after the merge. It wasn’t triggered by accident. It was scheduled.” Jaxon’s jaw clenched. “Scheduled by who?”

And it wasn't coming from us but from something outside. The Forsaken’s ancient howl echoed through the speakers, followed by Michelle’s surprised shout: “What are you doing? We had a deal!” Prime’s grip loosened slightly. “Anomaly detected.” I headbutted it again and drove my claws straight into its chest. “Looks like your masters are turning on each other.” Prime smiled through the blood. “Irrelevant. You still die tonight.” It started squeezing my throat again as the lights flickered and new red warning messages flashed across every screen:

He was the ghost in the machine, and the machine was now the size of a continent. A door hissed open, and a figure entered. It was a Sentinel 3.0, a terrifying fusion of human bone and Aether-tech carbon. It didn't have a face, only a vertical slit of violet light that acted as a multi-spectral sensor. It didn't carry a gun; its entire right forearm was a sonic lance, capable of liquefying a werewolf’s internal organs with a single burst. "The 'Chosen One' has left the mountains," the Sentinel reported, its voice a synthesized drone. "The Prism is stable. The 'Anomalous Chord' is being modulated by a creative frequency."

In the center of the giant creature’s chest was a large glass tube containing a human brain preserved in glowing blue fluid. Main Optimization Unit, Core Prime Sentinel, a cold, heavy voice echoed throughout the snowy hills, causing the ground they stood on to begin cracking. Sterilization protocol failed. Initiating manual physical deletion. One of the Sentinel’s giant mechanical arms lifted, aiming directly at Bima’s head with impossible speed. Bima stared down the barrel of the massive weapon at the end of the limb, realizing that the real battle had only just begun at the gate of their final hope.

It only made them want to be around the Prime the more. Heartbroken—I'm totally calling her that now—had tears running down her cheeks freely by now. Half of me couldn't believe her. The Prime Empire used girls for a living. They found it fun. Like a sport. They loved drama and stirring it. She must have been very blind to have fallen for their twisted shenanigans.