Decepticons Novels & Stories

The Capacitors (devices used to store electrical energy) groaned as Elara dumped the Isotope energy directly into the sub’s outer skin. A high-pitched, inhuman shriek echoed through the hull. Through the viewport, for a split second, they saw it: a twisted, skeletal nightmare of white armor and black, oily smoke. It looked like a man stretched to ten feet tall, its face a melted mask of violet glass. It was a Divergent Architect, its body literally being dissolved by the Void while it was still alive. The electrical shock threw the creature off the hull. The sub spun wildly in the current.

"Brandur is one. You remember he is called The Destroyer?" She fought back the gratifying smile that tugged at her lips with his growing unease. Maybe she could scare him enough into abandoning his plan and tell her where baby Brand was before the wolves caught up to them. "And they are not just regular wolves," she continued. "They are the size of the legendary Dire wolves. Brand's wolf comes almost up to my shoulder on his flat feet. His teeth are as fearsome as the Háhyrnir (killer whale) that roamed our sea."

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."

Lucas asked, his voice as firm as always, professional. Benjamin didn’t take his eyes off the screen. “Do what you need to do, Lucas. I trust your judgment.” The phrase left no room for debate. Lucas understood instantly. He closed the door without another word, knowing his boss was once again in "armored mode." That state where neither emotions nor memories could break through. Benjamin was back to being that precise, almost inhuman man capable of making decisions others avoided. It was the only way he had built an empire. The only way he had survived Anne.

I want to run, get away from them all so they'll be safe. “No, we believe they're trying to take us all down, but you are the easiest target. Not because you are weak but because it's the smartest move. If your heart stops beating then so does ours,” Luke explains and I feel instantly sick. They came so close to killing us all. “What do you mean by Deacon level powerful? Are we talking about Mr Collins or is Deacon also a power level?” “Mr Collins, he’s crazy powerful. He has all of the rarest and strongest gifts, which makes him dangerous,” Theo says.

Leo asked, straining to see the monitors. Ren remembered the deepest, darkest lore of Aegis Online. The enemies you never saw until the "Game Over" screen flashed. "They are the Silencers," Ren whispered, his consciousness fully merging with the massive tank's weapon systems. "Anti-armor stealth operatives. They are coming to cut us out of the shell." The clicking grew louder. Thousands of them poured out of the dark, swarming over the paralyzed Ironhead convoy like ants on a dying beetle. "Tank. Jinx," Ren's metallic voice echoed with deadly resolve. "Man the manual turrets. We're going in dark."

Auditory texture like a saw cutting through bone, amplified to a volume that made my eardrums pop. The sound made the nanoweave of Neoma’s suit vibrate against her skin. My teeth rattled. "Wolfy?" Barzil asked. His voice was a low rumble. "What is coming?" I looked at the reading. Class 5 Kinetic Entity. Nuclear Core. Barzil-Steel Chassis. "He didn't just build weapons," I whispered. My throat constricted. I couldn't swallow. "He built a champion." The smoke swirled. Two burning red lenses, the size of dinner plates, ignited in the gloom. They glowed with a steady, pulsating heat.

They didn't carry rifles; their right forearms were heavy, pneumatic pile-drivers that hummed with a low-frequency vibration capable of liquefying a wolf’s internal organs with a single strike. "Unauthorized asset detection," the lead construct announced, its voice synthesized through a high-fidelity speaker that rattled the glass panels of the transit platform. "Serial number #3, Zora Vane. You are currently operating under a secondary liquidation decree. Stand down and present the infant for structural reclamation." Dante let out a low, concussive rumble from the depths of his mutated lungs, his great front paws tearing deep grooves into the reinforced concrete of the plaza. The violet fir

It was chained to the rock with massive, glowing runes—Taoist binding spells that had been corrupted by time. "Subject 004-Delta," Caleb’s voice shifted slightly, the analytical tone of the AI blending seamlessly with his own observations. "Designation: The Cinder-Husk. Status: Dormant. Threat Level: Extreme." "It's not just dormant," Scarlett whispered, pulling out her jade brush. "It's suffering. Look at the chains. They aren't holding it; they're feeding on it. This thing is a living battery." "Then we put it out of its misery," Caleb said. He didn't transform into his wolf form. Instead, he simply took off his jacket, revealing the intricate, silver tattoos that now covered his arms—the

[WARNING: HIGH_LATENCY_DETECTION] [SYSTEM_LOG: DELETION_SQUAD_INBOUND] The static in the air suddenly changed pitch. It went from a low hum to a high-pitched Screech. From the grey horizon, three figures emerged. They didn't move like the Alliance soldiers or the Sentinels. They were tall, spindly entities draped in cloaks of Pure Static. They didn't have limbs; they moved by Teleporting—snapping from one coordinate to another without crossing the space between. "The Deletion Squad," I hissed, pulling my Pulse-Staff from my back. "The Architects' Clean-up Crew. They’re here to 'Sanitize' the Void."