Transformers Prime Slipstream Novels & Stories

My gold-violet tattoos were dark, inert lines on my skin, but I felt a different kind of power now—the weight of a world that I had chosen to let grow old. "Speak your piece," I commanded, my voice carrying through the crisp, frozen air without the aid of a resonance-crystal. The messenger bowed, his movements a fluid, terrifying mimicry of grace. "The Shadow-Prime does not wish to see the North wither in the mud, Emma of the Cellar. He is the architect of your history, and even an architect pities a collapsing house. He offers a restoration. He will reignite the Origin-Well. He will return the 'Wild' to your blood and the 'Integrated-Sky' to the horizon. The shifters will be gods once more,

​The Andromeda Slipstream didn't just carry the Unified Fleet across the parsecs; it acted as a sensory deprivation tank. Inside the Respiration’s living hull, the "Song of the Still-World"—the new verse gifted by the liberated Silent-Caste—vibrated like a cold, silver needle. It was a frequency of Persistence, a low-end hum that felt like the groaning of tectonic plates.

Then . A tremor passed through Scott. His head twitched, eyes opening impossibly wide. And then he screamed, arching his back, arms flailing. Smoke spewed from his shoulders. Jesse’s stomach clenched as he smelled burnt flesh. Forgetting about the triangle and what it had done to Scott, he lurched forward, slipped . . .

Fortunately, Warzone stepped in and used a shield she had generated to block the attack. After that happened, Plymouth used his gravity powers to manipulate the wreckage on the facility floor and repelled them against us. But Vicegrip then charged up his arms to slice up the debris. Then Primal kneed Stronghold in his gut to weaken his hold on him. " Ouch! You son of a bitch! ” Stronghold said. He then pulled back his arm and slammed Primal’s head on the ground. " Primal!” I screamed. ” I then used my tiger shrouds and flew above Stronghold while he kept his hand pressed down on Rick’s head.

Julian growled, his dark voice vibrating through the cabin's intercom. ​With a brutal, precise jerk of his left arm, he threw the heavy-duty transit rig's auxiliary turbine thrusters into reverse engagement. The twin-hybrid core screamed in protest, a massive wave of high-voltage counter-torque tearing through the transmission as the specialized undercarriage rollers ground against the inner track of the pipeline. ​SCREECH! ​A deafening, metal-on-metal howl echoed through the frame, showering the windshield in a spectacular storm of white-hot sparks. The vehicle’s downward velocity slowed from a fatal terminal plunge to a controlled, violent slide just as they broke through the third-tier pu

The night sky turned orange with fire. I lay there coughing, ears ringing, every inch of my body screaming. Kade was on top of me, still shielding me from the worst of the blast and falling debris. “You okay?” he rasped, his face inches from mine, eyes full of fear and love. I touched his bloody cheek with trembling fingers. “Yeah, you?” Before he could answer, a terrifying shadow rose from the heart of the flames behind us. Unit Prime stepped out of the inferno, one arm completely missing, and half its body was the color of charcoal.

"We are Grandmasters of the Dao! We ride spirit-cranes and jade chariots! We do not straddle brass soup pots!" "Your spirit-cranes would be roasted in two seconds," Scarlett snapped, her patience entirely gone. The Stellar Navigator at her hip pulsed with angry amber light. "Those 'soup pots' are now fitted with anti-matter deflector shields and plasma-combustion drives. You will mount them. You will channel your Qi into the steering arrays. And you will draw the enemy's fire." The Grandmasters hesitated, looking at the sky where the terrifying war of the gods was raging.

Suddenly, the entire passage began to shake, and the dust and stones continued to fall on top of their heads. “He blew himself up,” Tyr said in a low voice. Then, he took Olympias’ hand and quickly ran toward the other end of the passage. Slaine was a Transformation warrior. At the moment of crisis, he chose to explode himself to buy Olympias and Tyr more time to escape. The power a Transformation warrior could exude was absolutely terrifying when he overloaded his energy core with the intention to self-destruct. The entire passage collapsed in an instant. Tyr and Olympias used all their strength to dash toward the other end of the passage as quickly as possible.

Elara wasn't a girl anymore; she was a Singularity. The Origin-Prime starship, a vessel built to withstand the heat of a thousand suns, began to groan as its hull was pulled toward Elara's chest. White marble tiles snapped and flew into the black-hole vortex forming where her heart used to be. The "Sovereign-Amalgam" was dragged across the floor, its eight limbs clawing at the liquid-glass for a purchase that no longer existed.

"The Foundry. Yes. The Devourer does not create; it corrupts. But to create the Architects, it must have consumed a Constructor-class civilization eons ago. It keeps a mobile factory ship in its wake." "Where is it?" "Hidden in the slipstream shadow of the main entity. It is heavily guarded." "I don't care about guards. I care about location." Jack's void arm pulsed. "If I can get to that factory, I can shut down the drone production. I can stop them from printing new armies." "You would need a ship capable of traversing the slipstream without a beacon," the Sage warned. "The Ice Ship is formidable, but it is bound to your will. If you lose focus, it dissolves."