Sentinel Prime Transformers Prime Novels & Stories

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.

[ANOMALY IDENTIFIED: THE MOTHER] [STATUS: TERMINAL PETRIFICATION 94%] [VERDICT: EXHAUSTED CONDUCTOR] The Prime’s voice wasn't a sound; it was a tectonic roar that bypassed my ears and vibrated directly in my stone ribs. He ignored me. He looked at Leo—the "System Correction" he had planted in the bloodline five centuries ago. [REMAINDER. RETURN. REBOOT.] Leo went rigid. His small fists opened, his gold static flaring until the room turned white. He didn't look at the Prime with hate; he looked at him with a terrifying, clinical devotion.

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."

—automated husks of armor fueled by residual mana—were still programmed for one task: termination. Four Sentinels, towering seven-foot constructs of blackened steel, detached themselves from the walls. They didn't breathe, and they didn't hesitate. The first swung a massive flail that pulverized the stone where Victor’s head had been a millisecond prior. Victor slid between the construct’s legs, his movement a fluid, desperate grace born of a hundred and eighty chapters of survival. He didn't aim for the chest plate. He aimed for the "Joint-Core," the glowing blue crystal at the back of the knee.

I later got to find out that members of his pack found him and saved his life. Something even more peculiar happened at that moment. I began to fully shapeshift into a full breed wolf. The process of transformation was excruciatingly painful. I felt and heard my bones cracking. I felt like my muscles were turning inside out. I cried and winced in pain. The process took a couple minutes but it felt like a whole day to me. Once I fully transformed, I absconded into the bushes and remained in my primal form for several days before transforming back to human form. That was the moment in my life that I finally tapped into my full powers as a shapeshifter. It felt agonizing and glorious at the sam

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

With a sonic crack, he threw the switch, and the city’s old grid groaned into a state of total, inert silence. As the external hum died, we surged into the primary turbine hall. Standing over the pulsing black node was the Sentinel. It was a horrifying hybrid, its torso still bearing the tattered black silks of a High Sorcerer, but its limbs were fused into the cooling pipes and rotating gears of the station. Its eyes were vacant pits of lightless grey fire, and its voice was a discordant harmony of a dozen whispers that shattered the quartz lamps in the hallway. "You are late, King," the Sentinel mocked, its voice sounding like grinding tectonic plates. "The Coven does not want your throne.

They move with a slow, predatory grace that makes my stomach flip. Alpha Prime leads them. He is the largest, a wall of scarred muscle with eyes that glow a dark, hungry gold. He doesn't wear a shirt, and the heat radiating off his chest is like a furnace. Behind him are the Twins, Silas and Kael. They are identical, massive, and move in total sync, their heavy boots thudding against the floor at the exact same time. Trailing behind is the Feral. He is the youngest, and his eyes are wide and wild. He looks sick with lust, his chest heaving as he catches the scent of my heat.

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.

"My name is Zora Vane. And this is my home." "Your name is a designation, dear," she said, walking toward me with a "Tyler Perry" motherly condescension. "I am Aethel-Prime. I was the one who planted the mercury-veins in this planet’s crust ten thousand years ago. I’ve been waiting for a version of myself to grow strong enough to hatch the core." Aethel-Prime didn't use a weapon. She pulled a golden "Data-Sphere" from her belt and tossed it into the air.