Solus Prime Transformers Prime Novels & Stories

"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.

Then, with a nod of its massive head, it released a pulse of energy that enveloped the battlefield. Amelia's heart skipped a beat as she watched the sinister alpha werewolf transform back into his original form—a noble, silver beast who had once been a guardian of their werewolf pack. Relief swept over her as she realized their efforts had resonated with the ancient power. The Primeval Alpha let out a deep, rumbling growl, its gaze now focused on the creature that had been corrupted by darkness. It stepped forward, its massive paws causing the ground to quake beneath its weight. With deliberate movements, it circled the evil entity, studying it with a critical eye.

“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.

I am being used by three Alphas at once while the fourth, Prime, stands over us and watches. Prime reaches down and starts to mark my chest with his teeth. He is biting my collarbone, his teeth scraping the bone, leaving deep, purple marks. He is claiming the skin that the others aren't touching. There is not a single inch of my body that isn't being used, bitten, or held.

Chapter 67: The Frozen Vault The Berlin Vault became a crucible of ice and fury. Sentinel Prime didn't fight with finesse; he fought with the raw, brutal power of a force of nature. His obsidian skin deflected Aris's pulse shots, and the single violet eye in his forehead glowed with an ancient, malevolent intelligence.

The Geography of the Orbital-Node The Sovereign-Prime was the "Apex Asset" of the global "Master-Ledger." It was designed as a "Total Sector Watchtower," capable of "Liquidating" terrestrial targets with "Kinetic" rods while "Data-Mining" the "Neural-Nodes" of every "Gilded" citizen below.

They weren't gods of flesh and blood; they were non-sentient, super-intelligent AIs—the ultimate executors of absolute efficiency. "ALERT," the central Prime, a being composed of millions of interlinking silver prisms, pulsed with chaotic red light. "Anomaly 0-9-9-H (Earth) has breached quarantine. Security Fleet integrity: 12%. Rogue Weaver integration with Sovereign Alpha: 99.8%. Probability of total dimension formatting failure: 78%." The second Prime, a sphere of swirling azure calculations, offered the only logical solution. "INITIATING TOTAL REALITY REBOOT. AUTHORIZATION: PRIME. ERASURE OF SECTOR 0-9-9-H INEVITABLE."

"He's changed hasn't he. I hadn't noticed it until the other night when you left. He lost control but not in the way that you think. You did something unexpected beyond his gaze and it infuriated him." "What are you talking about? Just tell me already," I raised my voice slightly, feeling frustrated and agitated. I just wanted somebody to say the words that I had been in denial about since the moment his knee connected with my father's skull. "Prime has awakened," he said the three dreaded words. "How do you know that," I asked slowly, watching the swirls of the mark on my arm. It vaguely resembled the at symbol but had more swirls that formed more letters. There was an 'a' and what looked l

The provisional council chamber beneath the rebuilt Apex tower had transformed into a theater of controlled terror. The long table, once a symbol of fragile democracy, now served as Prime’s stage for interrogation. Clone-Prime sat at its head, wearing Damian’s face with the cold precision of a mask carved from ice. His black suit was impeccable, open collar revealing the faint scar that mirrored the original, but the eyes held none of the fire that had defined Damian through every hell they had survived. They were empty. Calculating. Hungry for the destruction he had planned all along.

The ground split fully beneath the obelisk with a final sharp fracture and from within the widening fissure, a column of dark harmonic distortion rose—not light, not energy in any conventional sense, but structured absence. It had shape, vertical and massive. And older than the lattice that had just invited us. My lungs felt tight, as if oxygen itself were thinning around the distortion. “Failsafe, define it,” I demanded. Processing lagged longer than I had ever experienced. Then “Entity classification unknown. Harmonic signature incompatible with triadic stabilization model. Designation: Prime Anomaly.” Prime, not secondary, not ripple but origin level. Melissa stepped forward despite the u