Animated Sentinel Prime Novels & Stories

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

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.

“Monroe buried the primary access behind multiple biometric failsafes—linked to him and you.” Aurora’s gaze flicked between Damien and Prime. “So either you override the system…” “Or he does,” Damien finished grimly. The pod hissed again, the fluid beginning to drain. Prime’s form rose, unbothered by gravity, landing barefoot on the steel platform. Naked, expressionless, and terrifyingly calm. Prime stepped forward, movements fluid but mechanical, like a man who hadn’t yet remembered how to be human. Damien stepped between him and the others.

that flickered with a weak, violet light. ​"UNAUTHORIZED BIO-MASS DETECTED," the lead Sentinel droned. Its voice-box was cracked, sounding like gravel in a blender. "PREPARE FOR... FOR... 'AUDIT'..." ​The Sentinel’s legs buckled. The "Black Bloom" vines coiling around its ankles had finally reached the power-pack in its spine. The machine slumped to the floor, its violet light fading into a dull, peaceful grey. ​"The audit is over," Kaelen said, stepping over the fallen machine. "The account is closed."

Click. Ahead of them, a section of the tunnel wall shifted. It wasn't a wall. It was a mech. An Imperial Sentinel—a ten-foot-tall droid armed with rotary cannons—stepped out of its charging alcove. Its red optical sensor swept the tunnel. "Intruders detected," a synthesized voice boomed. "Sector 7-G. Terminate." The cannons spun up. Whirrrrr. "Cover!" Vane yelled, diving behind a bundle of cables.

Still, it was what I expected from someone who never had any training in their first day. Her movements were shy, cautious, not used to moving in such a physically demanding position. She was learning, though. I suppose. "Are you sure?" Falcon asked, breaking the silence. "What?" "That she is..." He paused. It was as if saying the goddess' name in vain was a sin. "Athelia?" I completed. He nodded. "I don't know. But she holds her power. The red mist. Athelia's hands." He clenched his jaw.