Animated Sentinel Prime Novels & Stories

The High-Gate did not lead to another galaxy; it led to a "Temporal-Static-Buffer." As Avery Vane-Thorne stepped through the aperture, she left behind the "Basalt-Glass" weight of the Earth’s core and entered a realm of "Absolute-Resolution." There was no air, no gravity, and no "Wilding." There was only a floor of white-chrome data and a sky of "Perfect-Information." Standing at the center of this void was a figure that froze Avery’s newly-formed geological heart. It was Avery Vane-Thorne, but she was not "Standard-Human," "Amethyst," or "Gold." She was "The Audit-Prime." Her skin was a flawless, un-weathered silver, her eyes were twin lenses of absolute logic, and she wore a crown made of

"The Syndicate's network was keeping them dormant. When the Chairman died... the power grid failed." CLANK. A heavy, metallic sound echoed from the shadows behind them. They spun around, drawing their weapons. From the darkness of the alien data banks, a figure emerged. It wasn't a biological monster. It was a mechanical sentinel. Tall, multi-limbed, made of the same black obsidian and glowing with red energy. It had no face, only a vertical slit that locked onto them. [ INTRUDERS DETECTED. ] [ CONTAINMENT PROTOCOL INITIATED. ]

A thick, grey mist rolled in from the Iron-Grave, carrying with it the sound of rhythmic, metallic clicking. The Shadow-Prime had sent his "Frost-Sentinels." These weren't the nanite-infected shifters from the day before; these were Automatons of Ice and Iron. They were tall, spindly things made of rusted gears and frozen brine, their eyes glowing with a cold, blue light. They didn't breathe, and they didn't feel the winter. "THEY'RE AT THE LOWER GATES!" Magnus roared, his voice sounding thin in the freezing air. He was leading a group of shifters armed with simple steel axes and torches, but the torches were flickering and dying in the heavy mist.

“But I know what it is. Dominion designed sentinels to eliminate… noise.” “Noise?” Kenneth echoed. “Uncontrolled variables,” Elias said. “Humans that interfere. People they can’t predict. Targets of opportunity.” “So all of us,” Damian concluded dryly. The sentinel raised its arm. A red beam lit up beneath its wrist—targeting mode. Sienna’s pulse hammered in her ears. She pressed Julian tighter to her chest, whispering soft reassurance even though she didn’t feel reassured herself. Damian didn’t wait. “MOVE!” The corridor exploded into chaos.

Hunter was confused for a second but then his eyes widened. "Silvia-" "Silvia? Where is she? Is she alright?" Hunter's voice was etched with worry. "She didn't look alright. She came here just a while ago. She made a deal with me. Alonso is attacking the Alpha King tonight. Silvia proposed that she'll hand me Princess Violet and I must form a treaty with Princess Violet and keep them safe. In exchange I had to send my warriors to fight against Alonso," Lennox informed. Hunter glanced at the time and his heart dropped. It'll be too late until he reaches there.

a voice boomed. From the center of the room, a massive figure stepped out. It was ten feet tall, made of matte-black armor and white light. It had the shape of a man, but its face was a blank, silver screen. "I am the Sentinel Prime," the machine said. "I am the sum of all the failures. I am the wall that you cannot climb." The machine raised a hand, and a blade of pure energy ignited from its wrist. It didn't lunge. it teleported.

the other me said, her voice a chillingly perfect copy, stripped of all the fear and static that roughened mine. Before I could form a thought, let alone a word, Jeff was moving. He placed his body between the rifle and me, his hands raised in a placating gesture, but his stance was that of a cornered animal. “Stand down,” he commanded, his voice dropping into a register I’d never heard—a tone of absolute, unassailable authority. “That’s a direct order, Prime.” Prime. The word hung in the air, heavier than the weapon aimed at us. The woman—*Prime*—didn’t lower the rifle. “The asset is compromised, Sir. The risk is unacceptable. Protocol demands—”

The figure was moving fast, quiet, holding a short-barreled automatic weapon, sweeping the tree line as he advanced toward the cabin's power generator. He wore the dark gray tactical gear of Project Crimson's old auxiliary unit. A cold, familiar darkness flooded my veins—not the fiery, possessive heat I felt when I touched Anna, but the ancient, ruthless instinct of the weapon Clifford Mandell had bought fourteen years ago. I didn't call out. I didn't issue a warning. I moved through the deep snow like a phantom, my boots making no sound against the frozen drift. I closed the distance in four silent, blinding strides, coming up behind the scout just as he raised his gloved hand to plant a ma

Sable’s expression changed instantly. She lifted her wrist device. Her eyes widened. “Oh no.” Alexander stiffened. “What now?” Sable backed away slowly. “They deployed a Sentinel.” Alexander’s blood ran cold. “A what?” Sable met his eyes. “A Purge-symbiote tracker. Designed to hunt awakened stabilizers and Primarchs.” Elias’s hands glowed. “It’s hunting us.” “No,” Sable said softly. “It’s hunting Lena’s scent. And the two of you are walking flares of her energy.”

“Would you prefer I move around the entire pack in Merene and beat up all the werewolves I see?” He could do that. I wasn't disputing the fact, but it was even funnier imagining him fighting with some werewolves for what they didn't know. “It's Chase, Alpha of the Moonstone Pack.” “That bastard!” Sin growled and rushed to the door, but I was quick enough to intercept him. “Nothing happened, Sin,” I said, embracing him. “Move away, Artemisia, let me teach him a lesson.” “He is my f**king enemy.” He knows better than to do that. “I saw him appear the first time you came here. If it weren't for you, I would have killed him.”