Transformers Animated Sentinel Prime Novels & Stories

Rhea saw one labeled Moon-Pool: Biological Heritage and felt a surge of protective rage that she immediately suppressed. ​"Calculated movement," she reminded herself, her daggers held in a neutral grip. ​They were met in the central atrium by a squad of "Sentinel-Primes." These weren't the spindly janitors from the perimeter. These were heavy, quadrupedal machines armored in the same black glass as the tower, their movements fluid and predatory.

He sliced through the shadow-hand, but it just reformed, multiplying into a dozen translucent figures—the Prime-Sentinels. They were reflections of us. A shadow-Félix, a shadow-Magnus, a shadow-Runa. They moved with a terrifying, liquid grace, their eyes two pits of cold, indigo hunger. "DEFEND THE ANCHOR!" Valerius II roared, leading his iron-shifters into the fray.

She turned to another page and found images of wolves… some transforming, some glowing, some standing in circles of fire. "We have the Enhancer," Autumn said. Callie looked at the picture on the page. A small boy who grew into something massive, his body expanding until he towered over trees. She lifted her head and looked at Dazzle. Dazzle gave a small, almost shy smile and shrugged. "We have the Sentinel wolves," Autumn went on. "They defend and protect the group. They're the shield." Another page. A wolf standing between others and danger, taking hits that should've killed them but somehow staying standing.

I said politely but seriously. “Yes, he is expecting you, your highness. Please follow me.” She led me to Parker's office. The entire time, she was swinging her hips like a pendulum. She is letting her arms swing gently, and her back is straight. She is trying to walk like she is a model instead of a receptionist. As we get closer to the office though, Kral starts moving around. ‘Our mate is here, Ames!’ I sucked in a breath at his words. I stopped and inhaled. I smelled a beautiful scent of moon flowers and rain. Unique and beautiful- is that my mate’s scent?

I whispered into the static of the local net. ​Across the Iron City, five hundred Sentinels froze mid-battle. Their blue chest cores flickered, turning from a steady sapphire to a violent, pulsing gold. They stopped calculating retreat paths. They stopped analyzing efficiency. They felt the heat of the Weaver, and for the first time in their mechanical existence, they felt something resembling rage. They turned back toward the landing craft, their blades glowing with the same white heat that was currently incinerating my own nerves.

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."

She grabbed the handle of the digital blade and pulled it toward her own chest, offering her own heart to the machine. The void shattered. The white light imploded into a thousand shards of glass. Ava gasped, her lungs burning with the return of the Arctic air. She wasn't in a boardroom. She was in a high-tech laboratory, the smell of ozone and chemicals filling the air. Caleb was standing right in front of her. He wasn't in a glass chair. He was clutching her shoulders, his face wet with tears. "Ava... you came back," he choked out. “Trial Complete,” the Sentinel’s original mechanical voice echoed. “The Heart is weighted. The Miller greed has been purged. Sector Prime is unlocked.”

They weren't like the Frost-Walkers; they were cyborgs integrated with Void-tech, their limbs replaced by shimmering black chrome that hummed with a necrotic frequency. "Kael, Victor—take the Sentiners," I commanded, my voice echoing with the resonance of the Well. "The Doctor and the Mother... they belong to me." "Julian, his tablet controls the containment field!" Victor shouted as he engaged the first Sentinel, his pulse-pistol flaring. "If he drops it too fast, the backlash will vaporize the Tundra!" Kael didn't wait for a strategy. He lunged at two Sentinels at once, a whirlwind of claws and golden eyes. "Just keep the light steady, Julian! I’ll handle the scrap metal!"

He became a blur of black coat and white light. He appeared in front of the mech. The machine tried to track him, but Tristan was inside its guard. He placed his right palm flat against the Sentinel's chest plate, right over its power core. "Quiet," Tristan whispered. Drain. The effect was instantaneous and violent. The Sentinel didn't explode. It died. The red eye went black. The spinning cannons ground to a halt as their kinetic energy was sucked out. The metal of the chassis turned gray and brittle, frost spreading rapidly from Tristan's hand.

[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.