Solus Prime Transformers Prime Novels & Stories

My cock hardens instantly and I pin us against the tree. "I messed up, I know. You're right to call me out as a hypocrite. I want you to let go of your hatred for my gender, but I wouldn't even defend you." I shut my eyes as I continue. "You're right, I may be the Prime Alpha, but even I am held back by societal norms. It's kind of a bridge I find hard to burn. I wish I could be as defiant as you are, unwilling and uncaring about what anyone says. But there's just so much that I must hold together."

From the shadows behind Elena, two figures emerged. They were "Perfected Shields." They looked like Nevan, but their skin was a seamless, metallic silver, and their eyes were the cold, radiant gold of the Harvester. They didn't have souls; they had protocols. They were the "Alpha-Prime" units—the versions of Nevan that Elena had always wanted to build. "Kill the Shield," Elena commanded. "Retrieve the Heir. The Mother will be integrated." The two Alphas lunged.

All crying out simultaneously. "NO! THIS IS NOT—I WILL NOT—" Prime's voice fragments into thousands. The form collapses. Essences scatter. Each one a dead dragon, finally free. When the light fades, nothing remains of Prime except a small crystallized core. The original essence. Ancient. Tiny. Powerless. Jamie picks it up carefully. "Is this what you really are? Without all the stolen power? Just... this?" The crystal pulses weakly. No voice. No threat. Just residual consciousness.

Resting his head on the top of my own, we waited until Tenny seemed to find what he was looking for. "Ah, yes." He pointed to a page that was decorated in gold and silver - actual flakes of the elements if I wasn't mistaken. "This figure is the Prime." The figure was neither male or female by external markers. Haloed in colors from concentric circles of palest to darkest, the Prime stood on what looked to be a bed of snakes. Each snake was eating the tail of the snake closest to it. Each snake was a slightly different color as well. Dozens of lines ran from Prime to the snakes. From Prime's hands, body, face, feet. Everywhere. Prime looked vaguely like a voodoo doll.

“They’re breaking apart again. Prime’s coming this way!” Sure enough, Unit Prime had torn itself free from the Forsaken and was charging after us, moving with terrifying determination despite missing an arm and half its body. “Primary Alpha target acquired,” it said. “Emotional bonds will be severed.” Liora stopped suddenly and turned. “You want to sever our bond? Come try it, you heartless piece of shit!” Prime changed direction toward her. I had to intercept, slamming my good shoulder into its chest. We crashed to the ground in a heap of claws and fury.

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He looked at the Elite, wondering how to make his presence known. While he internally debated, a part of his mind brought up a question he had been thinking about for the last several days. Partials and Techs can normally be spotted by the metal all over their bodies. From armor covering non replaceable vulnerable parts to entire limbs having been replaced. The Partials of Squad Alpha, however, show no signs of Techmorphasis. And while it is possible for their internal organs to have been replaced first, a whole squad is never made out of those who only got their insiders replaced. So his question is ‘what part of them is not human?’.

the Prime said. He raised his cane and fired a beam of red energy. Dr. Aris didn't even have time to scream. He was turned into a pile of grey ash instantly. I grabbed the laser scalpel from the table and stood in front of Elle. My heart was pounding, but the revenge in my soul was stronger than the fear. "Where are Bryan and Jane?" I asked. The Prime smiled, and his mouth opened far too wide. Inside, his teeth were made of solid silver.

the other me said, her voice a chillingly perfect copy, stripped of all the fear and static that roughened mine. Before I could form a thought, let alone a word, Jeff was moving. He placed his body between the rifle and me, his hands raised in a placating gesture, but his stance was that of a cornered animal. “Stand down,” he commanded, his voice dropping into a register I’d never heard—a tone of absolute, unassailable authority. “That’s a direct order, Prime.” Prime. The word hung in the air, heavier than the weapon aimed at us. The woman—*Prime*—didn’t lower the rifle. “The asset is compromised, Sir. The risk is unacceptable. Protocol demands—”