Transformers Prime Wreckers Novels & Stories

—the memory of the First World’s destruction—was being targeted by a massive Eraser-Behemoth. "You hated me," the Prime’s voice echoed in her head. "And you were right to. I gave you order when you needed chaos. I gave you a cage when you needed a world. But I also gave you... Resistance. Without me, you would never have become the Feral Six." The Prime-Packet ignited. It wasn't a puck; it was a Sphere of Pure Truth. Elara struck it. She didn't shoot for a goal. She shot the packet directly into the heart of the Architect-Prime.

"If you take one more step toward Rebirth City... I will initiate a 'Global Liquidation.' I will shut down every reactor on this planet. I will let the cold take you all before I let you touch my son. Stay on your side of the ledger, or I will delete your entire history." The silence from the global feed was a pressurized vacuum. I saw the pack logos on the monitors flinch—Southern, Eastern, Coastal—their icons flickering with a sudden, rationalized terror. They realized then that I wasn't an Omega they could discard. I was the debt they could never pay. "Mommy..." Leo tugged at my sleeve. He was looking at the floorboards. His neck clicked—that mechanical stutter. "The Fourth Prime... he’s

was gone, replaced by the messy, chaotic sounds of a mountain reclaiming its territory. ​"They aren’t soldiers, Alpha," Marcus said, spatting into the ash. He pointed toward a line of sleek, armored carriages idling on the southern road. "They’re lawyers and logistics officers. The 'Gilded Scavengers.' Now that the Sovereign is gone, they want to negotiate for the 'Data-Cores' we buried under the rubble."

-Smoke and Skulls My stomach turns to ice. “Smoke and Skulls…” I mutter as it all comes rushing back to me. “That’s the gang who–” “Who your mother tried to…” My dad’s voice trails off. Even he doesn’t want to go back to when all that happened. I can see he wants to break something. “Yeah, that’s them.” No, it can’t be. My dad fixed all that. It’s supposed to be over. Slate stands silently beside me. I’m surprised he’s not growling threats or expressing some kind of rage. He’s just standing there, rigid, his jaw clenched and his eyes narrow, flicking back and forth as if searching for options.

Turns out she's just a homewrecker he pays to sleep with him. [She spent every day pretending to be the wife of a rich man. Not only is her cover completely blown, but everything else has also blown up in her face.] Gary had enjoyed plenty of success thanks to my support. However, he also cared about his pride more than anything. Now, he was visibly falling apart. "You've gone too far, Wendy! Why couldn't we have talked about this at home?!" "At home?" I asked as I sneered coldly. "Have you ever come home?"

he whispered, coughing up a puff of dark smoke. "And you're the only one I want," I replied, kissing him even as the floor beneath us began to float into the sky. But our reunion was short-lived. The Weaver stood up, her face distorted with rage. She wasn't beautiful anymore. Her skin was cracking, showing the golden clockwork beneath. "You've done it now," she hissed. "You've corrupted the Prime. The Architects are no longer resetting this sector. They are **deleting** the entire iteration group. Every world you saw in the sky... they are all going to burn because of you."

The appearance of the "Curator Prime"—the massive, obsidian hand descending from the black sun—turned the "Total Deletion" into a "Recycling Event." The Architects were no longer interested in Isabella’s personal vengeance; they were here to "Salvage the Raw Materials" of the North before the system crashed.

What had they done to her? “What’s wrong Cara,” my voice shook as I asked. “Zombies. There are zombies out there. What the fuck is this?” The masked figure pulled the hood of the cloak down and removed the mask. I had been right. It was Helena. Her pale blonde hair fell loose looking like snow. “They’re just actors.” Her voice sounded weary. “She almost cracked Jeff’s skull. We’re lucky he’s hard-headed. She gave him a bump as fat as the fucking Grand Canyon.” The man we knew as Manuel said. So his name was Paul.

"We should use the auxiliary extraction unit and drive the system at maximum power." "At least... at least we might get the killer's identity!" That final argument made Daniel hesitate. His obsession with the truth overcame the last remnants of trust and love he still held for me. He stood there in silence for a long time. Then, at last, he retrieved the specialized extraction helmet designed for the Memory Extraction System. Inside the helmet was a specially engineered steel spike nearly five inches long. It was designed to bore directly through the skull and force a memory extraction at twice the normal power.

She sent provocative messages and flaunted herself in front of me. Whenever I confronted her, Nicholas always sided with her. In a cold voice, he said mockingly, "If you want to stay by my side, you'll have to learn to tolerate Amelia." Backed up by him, Amelia smiled triumphantly. I trembled all over, feeling suffocated. Then, just when I was on the verge of breaking, the chandelier above crashed down without warning. Nicholas reacted instantly, pulling Amelia out of harm's way. I was slower, which caused my left arm to be scraped by the shards.