Optimus Prime Transformers Cybertron Novels & Stories

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.

looked at Leo, its gold eye dimming, replaced by a soft, human hazel. The Soldier-Elian’s armor began to shatter, the gold plates falling away to reveal the boy beneath. The "New Mother" dissolved into a cloud of white petals. But as the silence reclaimed the throne room, the Master Throne didn't just stand empty. It shifted. The floor of the throne room split open, and a figure emerged from the very center of the Sovereign-Prime’s reactor. He wasn't a ghost. He wasn't a simulation. It was Arthur Thorne—the Grand Director. But he wasn't a man. He was a Cyborg-Colossus, his body integrated into the ship's systems, his face a giant, glowing hologram of the man who had divorced Meilin’s world.

Sitting on a throne made of welded server racks was Torque. Torque was the lieutenant of the Ironheads. He was a nightmare of transhumanism gone wrong. His left arm had been replaced entirely by a heavy-duty hydraulic claw used for crushing cars. His right eye was a telescopic lens grafted directly into his skull. His skin was grey, pockmarked with chemical burns. "You the mechanics?" Torque asked. His voice was synthesized, buzzing through a speaker box embedded in his throat. "She is," Ren said, nudging Kara forward.

His voice didn't belong to a child anymore; it was a dual resonance—his pitch layered with Kael’s gravelly, Alpha Prime baritone. "They're kneeling to the fire you brought home, Mommy," Leo said, his neck clicking with that mechanical stutter. "But the 'Gene-Clearance' was just the first wave. The High Council had a 'Second Prime' waiting in the shadows. He’s not a wolf. He’s a virus." On the tactical slate lying in the snow, a new notification flared—a black icon, cold and ancient. [WARNING: SYSTEMIC CORRUPTION DETECTED IN GLOBAL RELAY]

I clarified. "Well your majesty alpha, we could take down their defences with a threat. We should have something threatening." one of the Warriors suggested. "And what do you think we can threaten them with?" I asked curiously. "Well, Alpha Troy is a man with a very young sister, about 5 years old and would do anything for her. So just use Edriana to transport you directly to his office, that way No one will suspect or realize you're there. And once in his office, order him hand over his pack or you will hurt her, and when he agrees and orders his patrols down, we march in and take over, bringing them to our pack lands as our new members under your rule." Daxton said. I'm surprised he actual

Waiting until there were no witnesses. With slow, careful movements, Clarissa turned the handle and opened the door. Light from the corridor spilled in slightly, falling across the bed where Junior slept curled up. A Transformers robot toy was clutched tightly to his chest. Optimus Prime. A gift from Alina for Junior's third birthday. Clarissa knew this because she'd heard the story countless times. From Margaret. From the staff. Even from Junior himself when the boy was still comfortable enough to talk to her. "Mama Alina said Optimus is strong like Junior. So Junior has to take care of him."

Its optical sensors were no longer the standard blue; they burned with a blinding purple light, identical to the energy of the ancient Titan. Harper didn't use a weapon. Her mech reached out with its massive mechanical hand and grabbed the elite spider's head. No gunfire, no physical force. The frenzied mechanical spider instantly went rigid. The purple light in its eyes extinguished, and it dropped to the ground like a pile of scrap iron. "Harper?" Sebastian looked at her in shock. "I'm okay, Sebastian." Harper's voice echoed in the private channel, carrying an ethereal yet exhausted authority. "The Resonator's psychic shockwave didn't kill me... it imprinted the Architects' control codes i

The retinal scanner blinked green, and the doors slid open with a hiss. Grace stepped inside and shivered. “Feels like walking into a graveyard.” “No,” Adrian said. “This is where monsters are born.” Inside, the Tower was a network of pristine white halls and black-glass chambers. An AI system greeted them. “Welcome, Adrian Ashford. Clearance level: Omega Prime.” The voice was cold. Masculine. Synthetic. It sounded eerily like Alaric. Adrian’s jaw clenched. “Deactivate vocal resemblance.” “Voice adjusted,” the AI responded.

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

“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.