Transformers Prime Optimus Prime Face の小説・ストーリー

the other me said, her voice a chillingly perfect copy, stripped of all the fear and static that roughened mine. Before I could form a thought, let alone a word, Jeff was moving. He placed his body between the rifle and me, his hands raised in a placating gesture, but his stance was that of a cornered animal. “Stand down,” he commanded, his voice dropping into a register I’d never heard—a tone of absolute, unassailable authority. “That’s a direct order, Prime.” Prime. The word hung in the air, heavier than the weapon aimed at us. The woman—*Prime*—didn’t lower the rifle. “The asset is compromised, Sir. The risk is unacceptable. Protocol demands—”

"Kaelor?" Aradaa stumbled forward. The figure was huge, suspended in a central pod of luminescent slime. It was a beast, but not the one Aradaa knew. This version was "Optimized." Glowing blue interface tubes were stitched into his spine and neck, pulsing with the ship's data. His fur was matted with scales, and his muscles had been warped to withstand the crushing weight of the trench. "Kaelor, wake up! It’s me!" Aradaa slammed his gloved hand against the glass.

I could even face HIM with the power of Ares at my disposal. "Stop right there," Derek ordered me. He shot out a plume of his ice blue flames and the caught me in an ever-shrinking circle. "Drop the transformation. It doesn't matter if you have back up, they'll still be outnumbered." "He's the Prime," I spat. "Your rightful master." Luke shrugged. "Did you forget that we were guardians to Primes? Do you really think that those wolves would accept protection from those lesser than them?"

Just one word as the title, as if it was enough to describe it. Curiosity drawn her to the grotesque face of the piece, noting how patient the artist was to build such creature. The face was godly but distorted, the body was intricately made and veins showing on both claws. It was posed as if to attack, eyes deep and cold and vengeful. “Prime,” a voice said, startling Chessa. “They were believed to be fruit of sins and wars, cursed to live under the dark, keeper of demons from the seven gates of hell.” It was Augustus.

Helen who looked pale and worried. And on the floor of Alina's room, scattered just inside the door, shards of blue and red plastic. Alina stared at them with genuine horror. "That's not..." her voice came out weak, shocked. "I didn't..." Daniel stepped inside, knelt down, picked up one of the pieces. Turned it in his fingers with slow, deliberate movements. "Blue plastic," he said with a voice that was too calm. "With red accents. Exactly like Optimus Prime."

Bima gasped, stumbling backward until his heel hit Lia’s foot, who remained frozen in place. "Impossible," Bima whispered, his voice catching in his throat, his eyes wildly scanning every detail of the person standing behind the shield. "Who are you, really? Why do you have my face?" The figure smiled, a smile that was warm, familiar, and far more human than the grins of the previous entities. He stepped through the transparent shield, his leather boots making no sound as they touched the ground, which was now shifting back into the original wooden temple floor. "I am the result," the man replied in a calm tone, exuding an aura of authority that far surpassed the Core Prime.

I cast the power and influence spell that put the current prime minister in his seat. “But we are allowed to kill witches that work with werewolves,” a man steps out behind a hut, holding a rifle in front of him, aiming it right at my heart. He’s huge, impressive for a human, and he’s seen many battles. I can read it in his aura, but his face carries the evidence. A wolf had left his mark on this man – four deep scars run diagonally from his hairline across his face, disappearing in the neck of his battle fatigues. His right eye droops down and when he smiles, only the left side of his face moves.

Compared to his opponent, Octavius felt utterly insignificant. Even if there were two of himself, he would still not be able to win. There was no way someone that strong was unknown. He just wanted to find out who that person was. Fane smiled as he slowly pulled down his mask. When Octavius saw Fane's real face, Octavius' eyes widened, "You're Fane?" Fane nodded calmly. Octavius' lips twitched, "I can't believe it's you. I heard you're from Hestia Continent?"

He has the most deformed face that is an awful grey with veins that are protruding. Connor only looks at the rest of us, "Oh, fuck."

Helpless. A face identical to Alexander’s.