Transformers Prime Autobot Novels & Stories

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.

I could even face HIM with the power of Ares at my disposal. "Stop right there," Derek ordered me. He shot out a plume of his ice blue flames and the caught me in an ever-shrinking circle. "Drop the transformation. It doesn't matter if you have back up, they'll still be outnumbered." "He's the Prime," I spat. "Your rightful master." Luke shrugged. "Did you forget that we were guardians to Primes? Do you really think that those wolves would accept protection from those lesser than them?"

The migration was turning into an invasion force. I walked over to the Sovereign. The matte-black chassis was covered in ash, and the tires were slick with mud, but the Origin-Code engine purred flawlessly as I turned the ignition. Leo and the Code-Born kids ran up to me, their tactical gear smeared with soot. "We're coming with you, Mia," Leo said, his jaw set stubbornly. "If they're using the Prime Forges to drill into the mantle, you'll need us to shut them down."

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.

I said, "keep filming. If the world stops watching, the ink runs dry." --- ### The Gates of Prime We ran. Rowan, Sam, and a dozen other "Restored" survivors followed the golden path. We didn't need cars. The road moved beneath us, a treadmill of pure intent. As we reached the gates of the Aethel-Prime tower, the "Real World" security was waiting. They weren't robots. They were men in black tactical gear, holding rifles. "Stop!" the commander yelled. "You are trespassing on private property! These 'Organisms' are corporate assets!"

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—”

"Hold them off!" Xander didn't shift, but he let the Alpha-Prime energy pool in his fists, hitting the drones with raw kinetic force. They weren't just stealing data; they were taking back the stolen dignity of their kind. As the drive turned green, the team vanished into the night, leaving the ATG Tower humming with the sound of a billion lost credits. While the Quads fought in the glass canyons of Chicago, Evangeline stood in a much older cathedral.

The enforcers froze, their movements faltering. "What… what is that?" Lia stammered, pointing at the vat. Riska's device shrieked. "The energy signature… it’s Core Prime! They're not just pursuing us. They're trying to… absorb our creation! They’re trying to weaponize it themselves!" The liquid in the vat began to glow with an unnatural, phosphorescent light, mirroring the corrupted glow of the reservoir. The potent aroma of their mixture was being distorted, twisted, corrupted by Core Prime's overwhelming influence.

In the Estate Gardens, about Four Years Later... The most feared creature in all of the Western Seaboard, the Alpha Prime of the Shadow Sovereigns, the King of Wolves, was now currently pinned to the grass, defeated. "Surrender now!" a high pitched voice squeaked. "Never, I do not surrender. " Alex growled playfully, though he made no effort to move his massive arms, which were currently being held down by two forty pound terrors. "Attack!" the second voice commanded.

To him, they weren't family; they were competitors that were no longer a problem. The lack of emotion that purebloods seemed to operate with concerned me. Adam was the only one whom I found to be even somewhat emotional-even then it was fervent and sensual, not sadness, sorrow, or even joy. Both Jace and Diedrick were both robots that were ruthless, even towards family, in achieving power and status. Because Diedrick had decided to stay-whether it was out of pity or duty, I wasn't sure-Adam and I had the plane to ourselves.