Hardshell Transformers Prime Novels & Stories

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.

“They’re acting as a planetary-scale pacemaker. If we don't find a permanent power source—a 'Static-Battery'—the twins will experience a Total Neural-Burnout within the next forty-eight hours.” ​“There is one 'Static-Battery' left,” Aris said, her eyes fixed on the scanner. She pointed to a coordinate five hundred miles to the East, in the heart of the "Dead-Zone" where the first Tundra-Sovereign had fallen. “The Core-Shard. It’s the original piece of the Architects' 'Prime-Server' that crashed eons ago. It’s un-regulated, raw energy. If we can bring it here and 'Bio-Link' it to the Vault, the twins can unhook.”

Vance whispered, his voice shaking as he stood near the core transformer console. His synthetic jaw-ports weren't flickering with their usual steady amber anymore; they were completely dead, dark holes in his skin that looked like old bullet wounds. He didn't have his data-slate, but he didn't need it. Ten feet away, the heavy ceramic cooling tubes lining the master panel—the ones we had just slaved to the frozen constructs of the Zinc Vanguard—suddenly stopped weeping their green grease. The internal copper coils didn't spark; they simply went cold, the gentle violet hum of our open-source distribution grid dying instantly into a terrifying, hollow silence.

Warmonger Chassis Type 13 [A] - Primal Machinations “Planetcracker” Omniresonant Greathammer [S] - Primal Machinations “Primdahl” Round Shield [A] - Mechanica Dharma “Retribution” Mass Driver Pistol [A] — Each of them were installed with the hyperionization submodules that Raijin had put together, which helped protect their armor and shields from Imperial disintegrators. And so they easily raised their shields in front of them, and happily shrugged off any incoming fire from the ships they charged towards.

Adam laughed at his, his lips returning to my neck as he pulled off his own shirt. "I think the word you're looking for is perfect," he said, his hands sliding up my skirt. "No." I said. "That's not it..." "Sexy?" "No." "Then what?" I thought about it for a moment. "Primal." Adam smiled as he pulled off his belt. "Darling, I can show you primal..."

"Look closely, bro! It's Transformers! It's Optimus Prime! "What's with the lack of reaction? Are you even a man?" "But my girlfriend is still waiting …" "They can't compare to Optimus Prime!"

"Ghost, he's a genius! The massive tungsten-carbide injection capsules at the base of the drills! They're designed to withstand absolute thermal and kinetic crushing pressure!" I pulled up the schematics for the Prime Forges. "They're cylindrical. Fifty feet long, heavily armored, with no windows. They run on a closed-loop internal life-support system. It's basically a giant, pressurized iron coffin." "Can you put an engine on it?" Dax asked.