Shattered Glass Transformers Animated Novels & Stories

Trevor says as he walks off, acting as though nothing happened. Steve walks around the corner of the foyer just as Trevor leaves. His screen has a noticable crack running along the side of it, causing the happy expression to be disconnected and slightly glitched. Shantal slowly puts her things down and walks over to Steve, standing on her tippy toes, only to see the bottom of his screen. "How on Beta-6 did you crack this? Isn't this glass supposed to be the best? I mean, with your father being the creator of the MAC-enites and all." She says, still studying his screen. Mr. Jameson sighs. "He managed to crack it so much, and the Proton Glass was way too expensive, even for me. So I just start

Shatter! The glass pane of the abandoned hangars side office exploded inward as Marcus hurled his shoulder against the frame. The sound of shattering glass filled the air and sharp shards skipped across the oil-stained floor. He didn't wait for the dust to clear. He reached through the gap grabbed the manual iron deadbolt and twisted it with a loud snap. The sound echoed through the hangar.

He was forcing the parasite to swallow the cold, dead reality of an empty city. There was no exit. No broadcast. No uplink. Just a long, cold dark. The transformer exploded with the sound of a thousand cracking icebergs. A shockwave rippled out, slamming Anji backward into the dark, crushing the breath out of him as the lights failed—not for a moment, but forever. In the final instant, he saw the singularity shrink. It didn't expand to engulf the city. It collapsed inward, a violent implosion of violet sparks that sucked into the shard, then faded into a pinpoint, and vanished.

"You are nothing. You were born from death, and death is all you'll bring." Those words have followed Zara Cole every single day of her seventeen years alive. Her mother died bringing her into the world, and her father - the Beta of Ironveil Pack - never let her forget it. While her brother trains to inherit their father's title, Zara trains in the dark. Alone. Unseen. Better than all of them. She is the top student. The fastest warrior. The girl nobody looks at twice. Until the day everything changes. When a transfer student named Mira walks into the pack training and decides - for reasons Zara cannot explain that she wants to be her friend, the walls Zara built brick by

The dawn we watched from the ruins. The geode sings . The harvester gasps as the echo releases her. The Child pulls us both free, collapsing onto the sanctuary floor as the geode in my chest transforms , its jagged edges smoothing into something luminous.

“We do not rig games. This system doesn’t favor anyone.” He paused, then added more cautiously: “…But as for what just happened…” He exhaled. “There must be more to this.” No one had ever cracked Eternaglass before. It was forged to withstand the fury of gods. And yet… under his touch, it shattered like fragile glass in a storm. How could that happen. It settles in like a puzzle in his mind even though he tried to calm the audience. Mr. Antony clenched his jaw, his thoughts racing. Still, he kept his tone composed.

Nomo hissed, stepping forward. The woman in the glass laughed, a sound like a thousand crystal flutes shattering at once. She looked even more terrifying than she had in the laboratory. Her sapphire skin was now overlaid with a web of silver veins, and her hair was a crown of jagged glass shards. She placed her hand against the surface of the mirror, and the glass didn't break—it dissolved into a shimmering, violet mist.

She lifted the device high, fingers trembling, and pressed every button at once. The screen flared, then shattered in her hand like glass. The Core convulsed. The towers screamed—voices cascading into chaos, billions of memories unraveling at once. The plain of light ruptured, breaking apart into rivers that dissolved into nothing. The rewritten staggered, their faces unraveling, scattering into sparks. The massive tower of Emma’s selves shattered last, her own younger faces dissolving into streaks of light that rose like fireflies, vanishing into the collapsing horizon.

My body trembles as the power within me fractures—splintering like glass, scattering into the air. I

The kind of engines that don’t do idle; they lurk. The long-awaited verdict never came. The gavel in puffy manicured hand with age spots froze halfway down. Then the windows shattered, a burst of light and noise came in so fast it felt like God had gotten drunk and emptied his ashtray on us. Automatic fire tore through the stained glass window—saints, angels, and devils all shredded into a rain of colored shards. The saints fell hardest and shattered in smallest pieces. They always do.