Transformers Prime Hardshell Novels & Stories

He didn't even raise his rifle. "Elara," Vex’s voice was a harsh, mechanical static. "I thought you were dead. And you brought... what are these? High-world aristocrats? You’re in the wrong neighborhood, smooth-skin." Sebastian ignored the guards. He walked directly up to the metal desk and casually tossed a small, heavy velvet pouch onto the surface. Vex frowned, his metallic fingers opening the pouch. Inside was a single, fist-sized chunk of flawless, liquid-metal Class-Omega armor plate stolen from Zenith Prime.

"Top Mafia Boss Spotted Welcoming Girlfriend at Airport Last Night" The accompanying photo showed Samara wearing Vernon's coat over her shoulders as he opened the backseat door for her. He even had a hand against the top of the car so she wouldn't bump her head against the edge. His eyes were so gentle that they looked completely foreign to me. The gentle look in his eyes was far more authentic than the gentleness he'd shown me over the past five years. I moved out of the mansion that day. When I left, I knew that I had to put up my armor once again. I'd come to understand that there wasn't anyone in the world who could be my safe place, even if that person used to make me think that he love

Over fifty thousand regional wolf-guards had thrown down their arms, falling into formation behind the nine-foot titan. And at the center of the massive, glowing red war-host, moving at breakneck speed along the grand imperial highway straight toward the capital... was a solitary, massive iron structure being dragged by six mutated shadow-beasts. "What is that central unit?" Zane asked, leaning over the holographic map, his brow furrowed. Asher’s voice returned, dropping into a whisper that carried the cold weight of absolute death: "It's an ancient mobile execution platform, Zane... The First Prime isn't marching to negotiate with the High Council's remnants. He has declared a Primal Trial.

“Monroe buried the primary access behind multiple biometric failsafes—linked to him and you.” Aurora’s gaze flicked between Damien and Prime. “So either you override the system…” “Or he does,” Damien finished grimly. The pod hissed again, the fluid beginning to drain. Prime’s form rose, unbothered by gravity, landing barefoot on the steel platform. Naked, expressionless, and terrifyingly calm. Prime stepped forward, movements fluid but mechanical, like a man who hadn’t yet remembered how to be human. Damien stepped between him and the others.

“The last, Jada! Quick!” I ran to the third pipe in the back of the hall. But as I Hammer wanted to lift, I solidified. From the shadow behind the carbonium column, a figure was taken. It wasn't one of the unfinished clones from the lab upstairs. This creature was perfect mature. Their black polymer skin was thicker, perforated with the chrome-plated Armor plates of an elite coat of consortium. Instead of a simple visor she had a whole nest of red glowing sensor eyes on her face. In its

The heat of Kael’s mane was reduced to a flat, blue hexadecimal value. "Hold the connection!" Zane roared, his voice sounding like a corrupted audio file. He reached out, his massive, blocky claws catching the "Sub-Routine" walls. They weren't made of stone or metal, but of Infinite-Archive Shelves—billions of discarded thoughts, failed simulations, and "Beta-Test" souls. They landed hard on a floor of Compressed-Silence. Above them, the "Alpha-Prime 2.0" looked down from a circular aperture, her silver hair shimmering like a cold star.

​The heavy-duty transit rig roared to life in the bunker’s dry dock, its armored chassis vibrating with the raw torque of a twin-hybrid core. Designed by Arthur Vance to look like a standard corporate reclamation transport, the vehicle was reinforced with military-grade ballistic plating and equipped with a localized active-stealth cloak.

"The ones in the dark don't have a heartbeat. I do." We reached the Chamber of the First Drop, but it was gone. In its place was a flat, obsidian platform that stretched into infinity. Standing at the center was a figure that made my heart stop. It wasn't a titan or a ghost. It was Me. The Shadow-Prime was a perfect, crystalline replica of the White Queen. She wore the alabaster silks of the Mirror-World, her eyes two pits of indigo starlight, her skin unblemished and radiating a sterile, white-violet heat. She held a version of the Void-Blade that was made of pure, unrefined Aether.

of "Hardened-Will." Elen, directing the efforts from her "Foundry-Core," ordered the construction of the Great-Armor-Plates. These were not energy shields or conceptual barriers; they were literal "Slabs of Neutron-Iron" and "Pressed-Soot," kilometers thick, designed to "Skin" the Multiverse. The Guilds and the Secessionists worked in a "Desperate-Synchronicity," using "Resonance-Welding" to fuse the plates together. They were building a "Cosmic-Chassis"—a structure that would ensure no "Siphon" could ever latch onto their "Will-Stream" again.

[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.