Transformers: Prime Comics Novels & Stories

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.

of the very history it was sent to destroy. As Chapter 123 closes, the Ares-Prime—now a "Hybrid-of-Void-and-Vessel"—is drifting back toward Earth. The Oort-Vanguard in the distance has "Stopped." They are "Waiting." They are "Reading" the new "Data" that Avery has "Injected" into their system. "Did we 'Win'?" Tommy asked, his hand trembling as he touched the new, "Void-Chitin" walls of the ship.

"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

"Who were they?" Jahnier's eyes rip open like seeing the light for the first time. That young throat of his propels a scared and tortured yelp of submission and confusion. Those worried eyes look around the stony classroom and he finally notices where he is. The Elder Prime looks at the boy for a moment then narrows his eyes upon his sleeve. With the back of his hand facing the podium, he uses the free appendage to tussle down the robe's length. He gazes at the multiple diamonds that are etched into his skin. Some of the markings glow with that purple mystical energy while others are hollowed out. However, among a row on his wrist, one of the hollowed-out diamonds begins to fill and glow lik

Lucien and Liam greeted behind me. “How did it go?” Lucien asked. Zane wordlessly opened his shirt, revealing a glowing burn mark etched across his chest. Immediately, the room shifted. Lucien, Jake and Liam dropped to one knee. Even the guards did the same. “Congratulations, Prime Alpha,” they all said in unison, thumping their chests. What's going on? What is a Prime Alpha? While they bowed, Zane looked at me. I stared back, but my breath caught somewhere in my throat. He stepped closer. Slowly. Carefully. Like I was something fragile he didn’t want to break.

"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.

"There have always been multiple Primes. Not many. Maybe five or six alive in the world at any given time. But they exist. They live quietly. They do not announce themselves. And when a new Prime is born who might threaten the balance they have established, they eliminate that threat." "You are saying there are other Primes out there right now," I said slowly. "And they might come after Elena." "I am saying they are definitely coming after Elena. She has been too visible. Too active. Too powerful too young. She has drawn attention from the very beings who have the most to lose if she continues developing unchecked." Vera looked at Elena who had come into the war room despite instructions to

The horizon dims, twilight clinging to the field long after sunrise. The first stranger arrives at noon. He's human, or close enough-a man in a tattered lab coat, his skin etched with glowing circuitry. He collapses at the edge of camp, clutching a device that hums with Arbor Prime static. Ravel drags him to the fire, her crossbow trained on his throat. "Who are you?" she demands. The man's pupils flicker, mechanical. **"Designation: Dr. Ephraim Voss. Last surviving architect of the Arbor Prime's cradle."**