Transformers: Prime Ironhide Novels & Stories

"Look closely, bro! It's Transformers! It's Optimus Prime! "What's with the lack of reaction? Are you even a man?" "But my girlfriend is still waiting …" "They can't compare to Optimus Prime!"

“Cameras went black. The convoy was intercepted at the bridge, and we lost three crates of silver-grade weapons and a dozen assault bikes.” Ezra cracked his neck, jaw clenched. “Stroud’s getting bold. Real bold.” Damien Stroud. Just hearing the bastard’s name made my wolf claw at my insides. The Alpha of Ironhide Pack was everything I despised—loud, sloppy, and arrogant. His pack dressed like royalty and fought like street thugs. But they were growing. And worse, they were organized now. That reeked of something more than ego. “What about the driver?” I asked.

It was a pathetic and undeniable craven existence but it was how they were winning the war. Dave let out a sigh. "No. He used a HG blade." I nodded. A brilliant man named Henry Gomez spent his life developing a UV spiked, but essentially silver based liquid that could be applied to any metallic object, leaving a coat of active poison that would kill both shade and host upon entering the their shared body. Something in perfectly balanced formula temporarily imprisoned the shade and as long as the wounds you inflicted on the human were mortal, the shade shared the same fate. The HG liquid had become as precious to us as light bulbs. It was hard to come by at the best of times, especially out h

A giant shadow, far larger than any Sentinel, began to descend from behind the violet dimensional rift. It was the entity that had been hiding behind the name Core Prime, a colossal mechanical hand that looked like a human hand, yet made of billions of glowing circuits. The giant fingers began to curl, crushing the skyscrapers in the city center as if they were nothing more than stacks of cardboard. Bima stared at the hand, then at the crowd of people who were now regaining consciousness and screaming in terror at the destruction looming above them. "It doesn't want to erase us anymore," Bima whispered, his voice heavy with bitter realization.

I weigh and discard the usual openers, all the ways I have eased mortals into revelations before. “My real name is Aetherion,” I say, blunt as a stone. Both of them go very still, in different ways: Jax’s shoulders tense, but Raven’s eyes intensify, their blue darkening as Calliope comes forward to listen and she processes. “You knew I was different. But you may not know is that, like you, I was made half-wolf, half-god.” Raven’s lips part, but she closes them again, determined not to interrupt.

But a cold, heavy hand wrapped around my heart, stopping me just in time. I hadn't seen Irene in five long years. I didn't know what she had become, who she associated with, or if her loyalty had shifted to the pack hierarchy while I was away. In this world, a human could not afford to be careless. "Oh, no, there are no mythical powers," I said, forcing a light, dismissing chuckle. "He is just exhibiting his wolf traits a little earlier than usual. It’s nothing supernatural." "But Keren, early shifting and extreme physical durability are classic signs of the Prime gene," Irene pressed, clearly fascinated. "I’ve been studying the ancient texts on Primes since the rumors started."

We walked toward each other across the neutral ground, and the distance between us closed with the particular quality of two people in whom the same blood is making a mutual recognition before the minds have caught up. He was the first to speak. "You have your mother's eyes," he said. "And something in you that's much older." "You know what I am," I said. "I suspected when I heard the reports from those inside Ironveil's territory. And now that you're in front of me—" He paused. His expression was layered in a way I was beginning to recognize as a family trait: multiple registers operating simultaneously, the surface composed and the depth in motion. "I know. Yes. You're a Prime. The first i

And I stared right at him. “What is this hybrid’s name?” Brock turned to me and said, “Zane Drocco.” Jared and I gasped but I kept my composure. Now I feel a strong headache coming on. I felt my back hit a wall and I closed my eyes, trying to process every bit of information as I put all the pieces together. The hybrids, why Elder Zane is so adamant to find and lock up every last hybrid from all packs, the prophecy and the white dragon.

"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

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.