Transformers: Prime Autobots 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.

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."

"The Arbor Prime feeds on the Seeds it grows. Yours is still linked to the First Seed. *Use it*." The Custodian snarls. "Traitorous prototype!" The garden convulses. --- **The Rebellion** The Eden clone fights his siblings, his void-eyes bleeding gold. "The Arbor Prime's heart! Destroy it!" Veyra and I sprint toward the First Seed, dodging roots and entropy fire. The clones give chase, but the Eden clone sacrifices himself, tackling the Kelly clone into the river of time. The Custodian blocks our path. "You'll ruin *everything*!"

a voice boomed. From the center of the room, a massive figure stepped out. It was ten feet tall, made of matte-black armor and white light. It had the shape of a man, but its face was a blank, silver screen. "I am the Sentinel Prime," the machine said. "I am the sum of all the failures. I am the wall that you cannot climb." The machine raised a hand, and a blade of pure energy ignited from its wrist. It didn't lunge. it teleported.

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."

The Transformers lie in the realm of tomorrow; the very distant tomorrow. Still, Mr. Lapuz was greatly amused by Ecto 2.0, the robo-puppy that Terra had gifted Kate. He was blown away by how lifelike it behaved. Its prick ears gently pulling back, its tail wagging, its four jointed legs much more flexible than his own arthritic two. Ecto 2.0 also had these expressive, big blue anime eyes made of OLED. The same eyes were equipped with depth cameras that allowed it to gauge any terrain and relay the most apt maneuver to its small but powerful legs. Lastly, Ecto 2.0 was equipped with AI and could remember the layout of Kate’s room and the whole house plus the faces of the people constantly arou

I never knew how important that little news reel would become. The sound was off, but the images were a relentless, cheerful assault. Lots of flashing pictures of happy, diverse people laughing as they used their XBands to navigate gleaming cities, hug their families, and achieve professional bliss. The chyron at the bottom of the screen stated, with bland finality: XBAND'S NEW AI FLAGSHIP - 'PRIMUS' - THE LARGEST AI BRAIN EVER MADE, IS NOW SINGLE-HANDEDLY RUNNING ALL XBAND SOFTWARE. A NEW ERA OF SEAMLESS INTEGRATION.

Security bots, relics of his father’s paranoia, programmed to protect Vault Zero at any cost. Justina gripped his hand tighter. “Carson… we can’t fight all of them.” “We don’t have to.” His eyes flared with determination. “We outsmart them. Just like we’ve outsmarted everything else.” Carson moved with lethal precision, guiding Justina through a maze of shadows and hidden switches. Panels slid aside, corridors opened, and paths shifted. The bots followed, but every move they made was anticipated. The chamber itself became an ally, responding to Carson’s knowledge of its secret systems.

"Prime is offering peace. Reject it and Prime offers destruction instead." "We've survived destruction before." "Not like this. Elena was restrained. Played by rules. Maintained appearances." Cassandra steps closer despite the weapons. "Prime has no such limitations. Will burn cities to kill you. Will eradicate bloodlines completely. Will turn your victory into ashes." "Then ashes it is. Leave." Jamie's done talking. Cassandra shrugs. "Your choice. But know this. Prime predicted you'd refuse. Actually hoped you would. Peace is boring. War is interesting. And Prime hasn't had interesting in centuries."