Transformers: Prime Autobots Novels & Stories

"He’s a fragment. A piece of Julian’s original consciousness, embedded in a biological weapon." Sentinel Prime advanced, the air around him crackling with frost. The concrete walls of the vault began to crack, spiderwebbing under the sheer force of his presence. His voice was a guttural rumble that vibrated through the very ground. "I am the... beginning. You are... the end." Caspian shoved Jade behind him. "Aris, fall back! Get to the extraction point!" Aris, her face grim, laid down a covering fire before retreating into the tunnel. She knew they couldn't win a direct fight.

She observed the opponent's colossal object, its tires were enormous, and it moved through the water effortlessly. Thea crawled out of the car and then got into the other car. The other party's car suddenly changed its shape, just like a Transformers, and a huge hook suddenly appeared from its tail. It hooked Thea's car and lifted it up in the air. Thea was stunned, “Isn't this car amazing?" The assistant looked at her with a dumbfounded expression and said, "This is the least technologically advanced thing in the young master's basement." The huge creature suddenly trembled.

Now, they were a High-Density Botnet. "Twelve thousand units," Caleb whispered, his voice still raspy from the "Alpha Prime" extraction. He stood at my left, his new charcoal-grey tactical armor reflecting the emerald glow of the room. "They aren't marching, Sereia. They're moving in a Perfect Sync. No radio chatter, no supply lines. It’s like they’re all running on the same clock." I zoomed in on a cluster of signals crossing the Tundra Line. The resolution sharpened, showing a battalion of Alliance infantry. They weren't wearing traditional gear. They were draped in white, translucent polymers that hummed with a clinical light—the same light as the Maintainers.

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.

Wilmot POV That little shit. Neriah dragged Jemisha, Regina, and me through the mud in front of the camera. I can’t get a hold of the producer to ask him not to include that footage. I’m going there first thing on Monday and demanding to speak with him. Jemisha shifted, and she has a weak brown wolf. She is not an Alpha, so that she wouldn’t have a strong wolf. She takes after her mother. Regina’s wolf isn’t strong either.

Natasha’s heartbeat shifted. Prime One. Prime Two. The superior commanders Elias had shown her. One scientist activated a control panel. “Return to containment.” Neither Cerberus moved. The command was repeated. And still nothing. The scarred one turned its head toward Natasha. Its eyes locked onto hers through the glass. And the second did the same. Adrian stepped closer. “Command them.” The scientist increased the artificial signal. “Prime One, return to containment.” Still nothing. “Prime Two, return to containment.”

—a floating monolith of archived history—and swung himself into a landing on a platform made of Compressed-Silence. Above them, the aperture of the bridge hummed with a cold, sterile light. Standing at the edge was the Alpha-Prime 2.0. Her silver hair shimmered like a dying star, and her eyes—that chilling, calculated violet—looked down at them not with hatred, but with a terrifying Indifference.

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!"

A thick, grey mist rolled in from the Iron-Grave, carrying with it the sound of rhythmic, metallic clicking. The Shadow-Prime had sent his "Frost-Sentinels." These weren't the nanite-infected shifters from the day before; these were Automatons of Ice and Iron. They were tall, spindly things made of rusted gears and frozen brine, their eyes glowing with a cold, blue light. They didn't breathe, and they didn't feel the winter. "THEY'RE AT THE LOWER GATES!" Magnus roared, his voice sounding thin in the freezing air. He was leading a group of shifters armed with simple steel axes and torches, but the torches were flickering and dying in the heavy mist.

It only made them want to be around the Prime the more. Heartbroken—I'm totally calling her that now—had tears running down her cheeks freely by now. Half of me couldn't believe her. The Prime Empire used girls for a living. They found it fun. Like a sport. They loved drama and stirring it. She must have been very blind to have fallen for their twisted shenanigans.