the

here's the sexual content guidelines saying nudity is ok

here's the bit from the termination email telling you you can make a new account as long as it doesn't break the same rule

here's the guidelines for what counts as explicit (not mature, aka grounds for content deletion)

here's the section telling us that you will always be able to respond to content getting flagged as explicit (lie)

here's the section where it says you will be notified when your accunt gets terminated, and that the appeals are reviewed by humans (both lies)

and by the way, posting a single thing against ToS isn't supposed to be grounds for deletion, (this is what the termination email is warning you about)

sharing content without content labels isn't either

Twice in my youth (once in high school and once in college) I was in situations where I was asking someone out and I could tell they were calculating in their heads the risks of rejecting me, and both times I said, out loud, "you can say no, I wouldn't have asked if I wasn't prepared for either answer." And then they said no. This wasn't some spark of special wisdom I had - I knew to do it because feminist conversations among my age group brought it up regularly. This isn't happening nearly enough anymore.

More recently, I was really glad when we got to "rejection sensitive dysphoria" in my IOP program and it was one of those symptoms where the therapists really emphasized how it affects others. Because it does.

Jordi went over to the stall, and saw a really athletic guy wearing a golden football kit. He didn’t recognise the kit, but this guy looked so masculine, so at peace. Jordi didn’t want to admit it - but he felt drawn to the gold. ‘Just a pint please mate’ he said. The guy obliged.

‘This ain’t no normal beer bro’ he commanded.

‘You’re going to feel better soon, bro’

Jordi would normally run a mile. But something about this guy made him feel at ease. He couldn’t help but take a sip.

Jed started to feel strange. He felt a warm golden glow, in his eyes in his body, in his blood.

He looked down, his blue kit changed into a golden shimmering one. In that moment he forgot who he was, why he was there, or who he’d come with.

Before he knew it, Jordi was back with his golden bros. They laughed. They could see the next unwilling lad going to the golden bros beer stand.

Jordi clicked. ‘What am I doing here?’ He panicked.

I need to get out. He looked for the exit.

But then he remembered, he was a golden bro. It was his only purpose. That golden feeling felt so good.

Do you want to join? Contact our recruiters: @polo-drone-001 @polo-drone-125 @franco-gold94 @polo-drone-166

(Grayden sitting on the sidelines anxiously)

The silence before the fourth quarter was not peace—it was the weight of dread. The air was thick with unease. Grayden grew increasingly anxious due to the creeping dread of Cyan’s influence over the team. His smile was gone, his eyes dark with worry. Three brothers had already fallen—pulled into Cyan’s grip—and several more wavered, minds rattled as the mind-games were cracking their discipline. The Golden bench looked less like a team and more like a battlefield of wills.

(PDU-151 surrounded by Cyan drones)

Alex—PDU-151—was in the stands. His polo damp with sweat, voice hoarse from shouting and chanting GOLD, he sprayed arcs of the rubber solution into the stands. Where the mist fell, fans snapped out of Cyan’s hypnosis, jerseys shining gold again. It was a battle for the crowd as much as for the court.

(Alton confronting CC-010)

On the court edge, Alton stood, flames in his eyes, nose-to-nose with CC-010. Words hissed, but the fight was spiritual, not physical. Alton was rightfully annoyed at Ares, a brother he once looked up to greatly, was now currently CC-010 supporting and coaching the Cyan Collective. Alton’s words sharp as steel began to sling insults and criticisms, but CC-010 was unphased. “You won’t break us. Not tonight.”

(Maximus splashing the solution on CC-073)

Behind them, Maximus and Ezan wrestled with despair. Their brother, Tamerlan, had fallen, his rubber pulsing with Cyan’s blue glow. For a moment, it seemed permanent—until Maximus splashed a bottle of the experimental rubber over CC-073’s chest. The hiss was violent, the rubber searing, the blue draining away. CC-073 collapsed, shuddering—then opened his eyes, golden again. Tamerlan was back.

(Izzy sitting next to Kasper)

Nearby, Izzy sat close to Kasper, who clutched his head, drowning in Cyan’s illusions. Izzy’s voice, low and steady, was the anchor keeping him from snapping completely. But while Gold fought to heal, Cyan smirked. They discovered tonic wine inside their water bottles, a trick likely set by one of the Golden Chavs.

(The Cyan Collective finding Tonic wine in their water bottles)

Brody and Grayden huddled fast exchanging glances. “We need fire,” Brody said. Grayden nodded. Izzy couldn’t leave Kasper, so the call was made.

Jordan would enter—their secret weapon.

(Jordan, the secret weapon)

Both sides had their rosters change going into the fourth quarter. On Gold’s side, Alton (PG), Boone (PF), Brock (C), Grant (SF), and Jordan (SG). On Cyan’s, CC-004 (PG), CC-033 (C), CC-042 (SF), CC-027 (PF), CC-035 (SG).

(Wells sitting on the bench)

Wells, bruised and exhausted, sat on the bench with ice on his knee, but the fire in his eyes promised he wasn’t done. On the other side, CC-022/Trey rested, their earlier dominance taking its toll.

The whistle shrieked and the horn blared. The quarter began. The scoreboard shined 73-71, reminding the players of Cyan’s small lead.

Alton controlled the pace, barking out the first set. He swung the ball wide to Boone, who spotted daylight beyond the arc. With Cyan’s defenders sagging, Boone rose and launched—swish. The crowd erupted, gold flags waving like flames. A solid three points to start the quarter off strong.

(CC-035 shooting a free throw)

The energy shifted—but Cyan pressed back. CC-033 muscled Brock under the rim, scoring a bruising hook. CC-035 slashed inside, drawing a foul. He hit one of two free throws, smirking as blue shimmered across his eyes.

(Grant scoring)

Grant flashed baseline, caught a feed from Alton, and sank a quick jumper. Jordan streaked across half-court, curling around a screen, catching a dart pass and drilling a mid-range shot. His eyes glowed with fire.

Timeout. Brody called it. The mission was clear—Boone and Grant out, Maximus and Ezan in. Boone and Grant didn’t argue. 

(Grant & Boone/PDU-096 accepting their mission)

Grayden pulled them close. “Your mission isn’t here anymore. It’s up there. The real fight is in the sound system. Get to the sound booth. Kill their whispers.” He pointed at the speakers. Cyan’s whispers slithered through the sound system. “Cut it off. Bring back the anthem.” Boone nodded solemnly, donning his rubber polo to become PDU-096. Grant smirked. The two vanished into the tunnels—on a mission to become Golden DJs.

(Ezan and Jordan playing together with strong chemistry)

Jordan exploded out of the timeout, his fire was instant. First play back—catch-and-shoot from the corner. Swish. Next possession, Ezan screened hard, Jordan curled, but missed a floater.

(Jordan and Ezan working well together, CC-022 and CC-047 in the background shocked at Jordan’s strength)

The chemistry between them was instant—sharp cuts, no-look passes, perfect timing. CC-022 and CC-047 even stood up from the bench in shock at Jordan’s strong plays. Then a fast break: Alton stole the ball, hit Jordan in stride, who hammered it in off the glass. Eight points in minutes. The crowd roared with every bucket, chanting his name. 

(CC-027 scoring)

Cyan countered with CC-027 and CC-042, masked and menacing. CC-027 muscled through Alton for a layup. CC-042 followed with a pull-up midrange jumper. Their masked faces glimmered, unreadable, but their movement was sharp—almost unnatural. Grayden’s instincts screamed: There’s something unnatural about them. Too precise. Too controlled. There was more to those two than met the eye. Not that one could see their eyes.

(Alton preparing a shot)

Gold countered. Alton faked left, darted right, and kissed the ball off glass for two. Ezan followed, breaking through CC-033’s defense for another layup. The scoreboard flashed: 88–80. The Golden Army roared. Momentum was theirs.

(CC-042 scoring)

Then the masks took control. CC-027 and CC-042 moved like synchronized shadows, punishing every Gold misstep. Seven points each in rapid succession—a three-pointer, a slashing dunk, a fast-break finish. In minutes, the eight-point lead dissolved. Cyan roared back ahead.

(Maximus about to dunk)

Maximus seized the ball off a miss, stormed down the lane, and crushed a dunk with both hands, shaking the rim. Gold’s bench exploded, but Cyan’s whispers in the sound system dulled the energy.

CC-004 buried a dagger three from deep. The scoreboard tilted Cyan’s way. 

Meanwhile Grayden pulled Nate/PDU-166 aside. Together, they whispered about Cyan’s strange fixation on him, a mystery demanding answers.

(SERVE-425 battling a Cyanus)

As the battle raged, SERVE-425 spotted a Cyanus infiltrator in the stadium weaving through the crowd. Its eyes glowing, whispering into fans’ ears. Without hesitation, he launched into the stands, tackling the creature mid-row. He confronted it ready to blast with a neutralizing beam of ruby red energy. The fight for the crowd’s loyalty mirrored the war on the hardwood.

(Jordan leaping up for a jumper)

On the hardwood, Jordan caught the ball once more. He rose for a jumper—but hesitation flickered across his eyes. Cyan’s whisper slithered into his thoughts mid-shot. 

(Jordan limping due to his rolled ankle)

Then disaster struck, his ankle rolled on the landing. He crashed to the floor, clutching his leg. The crowd gasped. Pain seared across his face. Jordan’s night was done. Trainers rushed. Brody’s face hardened instantly. Timeout.

(Brody calling a timeout)

The scoreboard glared: Cyan 97, Gold 90.

(CC-767 cheering)

As Jordan was helped to the bench, CC-767 rose in the crowd, chanting for Cyan with manic glee. His influence spread like wildfire. Fans buckled, voices shifting blue. Then Leander shuddered. Leander, seated behind the Gold bench, stiffened. His skin shimmered blue. Before anyone could stop it, he was gone—reborn as CC-088. Another brother was stolen by Cyan.

(CC-767 standing next to a newly transformed CC-088)

The Golden Army reeled. But on the bench, Wells ripped the ice from his knee. His voice cut through the noise. Wells stood, fists clenched, demanding to take Brock’s place. He knew his defensive skills were needed to close out the game. “Put me in. I’m ready. We don’t fall here.”

(Wells is angry)

Brody stared at him, then nodded. The final act was coming. The game was about to change.

(Grayden and PDU-166 exiting the arena)

While trainers tended to Jordan, Grayden slipped on his PDU-084 polo and ran into the tunnels with Nate/PDU-166. Beneath the arena, hidden behind steel doors, lay the Golden Archives. Dust, silence, and the hum of old machines filled the chamber. Within the depths of the Archive lay a lab.

Nate revealed what he had pieced together—Grayden’s great-grandfather, a scientist in 1947, had faced the Cyanus Collectivum when they first came to Earth. They were seeking ways to repopulate their dying species by enslaving humans. Grayden’s great-grandfather had slain their leader. The Cyanus swore revenge, vowing to return in 78 years. 

(Grayden’s great-grandfather slaying the leader of the Cyanus)

Grayden’s breath caught. “They think I’m him.”

Nate nodded. “They don’t understand our lifespan. To them, you are him—reborn, unchanged. That’s why they’ve targeted you, sent you the suit, obsessed over you. They think you’re the man who defied them.”

In April 2025, they came back—mistaking Grayden for the same man, not understanding human lifespans. Every attack, every manipulation, was aimed at him. They did not know the truth.

(Grayden opening the old safe)

After a uniform shift by Grayden into his Gold. Grayden and PDU-166 together opened a steel safe. Inside was a letter, yellowed with time. Addressed to Grayden, a deathbed confession from his great-grandfather. For Grayden, 2025. Hands trembling, Grayden opened it.

(Grayden reading the letter)

The letter detailed Cyanus biology, weaknesses, and their true goals. It ended with a directive: “When they return, they will seek me. They will find you instead. They do not know time as we do. They will not understand. Their biology is alien—their minds, hivebound. They can be beaten, but only if you carry the knowledge I have left. Their weakness lies in resonance. Sound, vibration, frequency—these are their cracks. Use this knowledge. Finish what I began.”

At the bottom, a final line: “They will believe you are me. Let them. Use their error to end this. Do what I could not.”

Grayden folded the letter, fire burning in his chest. He looked at Nate. “Then we build a weapon. Not for the game. For the war.”

(PDU-84 and PDU-166 working on a weapon to defeat the Cyanus)

And in the depths of the archives, golden sparks lit the machines. Back in his Polo Drone uniform, Grayden now PDU-084 along with PDU-166 began their creation knowing time was not on their side.

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Golden Bros/Cyan Drones and SERVE drones mentioned in order in this quarter:

Grayden #84/PDU-084 @polo-drone-084

Alex/PDU-151 @polo-drone-151

Alton #77 @alton-gold77

Ares #10 (CC-010 in the story) @goldengod-ares10

Maximus #70 @polo-drone-070

Tamerlan #73 (CC-073 in the story) @polo-drone-073

Izzy #45 @isaac-gold-45

Kasper #90 @pdu-090

Brody #11 @brodygold

Jordan #40 @jordan-gold-40

Wells #58 @wells-gold58

Trey (CC-022 in the story) @hero21us

Boone #96/PDU-096 @polo-drone-096

Leon #35 (CC-035 in the story) (Tumblr not known)

Jasim #33 (CC-033 in the story) @jasimgold

Grant #43 @grant-gold

Ezan #1 @polo-drone-001

SERVE-425 @serve-425

Nate/PDU-166 @polo-drone-166

Devon/PDU-767 (CC-767 in the story) @polo-drone-767

Leander #88 (CC-088 in the story) @leander-gold-88

CC-047, CC-027, CC-042, and CC-004 are NPCs made for the match not based off any golden bros

----

DISCLAIMERS:

Gold is not affiliated with SERVE, any SERVE drones present in the story chose to collaborate with Gold with proper permissions and consent.

We are aware that jersey numbers 0-55 are more common in basketball, certain jersey numbers are uncommon, and sometimes certain jersey numbers specify or are favored by certain positions, this is a fictional match please do not comment on the accuracy of the jersey numbers to real life. We're just trying to have fun.

We are sorry for any inconsistencies in pictures, we have a lot of bros helping with pictures so they happen.

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The action-packed conclusion (and an alternative ending) are coming soon.

The Golden Army strode into halftime with dominance, the scoreboard flashing 55–39 in gold’s favor. They jogged to their locker room, drenched in sweat, but brimming with confidence. Gold owned the first half; their performance was fast, fiery, and dominant. The arena pulsed with energy, the crowd’s chants thundered like war drums. Despite Gold’s intense energy, it was clear the Cyan Collective was not giving up. 

(CC-063 serving hotdogs)

Outside the arena, a makeshift concession stand served hotdogs. At its helm, CC-063 (Chevy) served hotdogs, his motions mechanical, hypnotic. The cyan clad pup gave an unsuspecting smile as it served customers. A visiting football team wandered by, curious and hungry. They accepted the food, joking at first—until the taste hit. Their voices dulled mid-laugh, their eyes clouded over, and one by one they froze, posture snapping rigid. When they moved again, it was in sync, blank stares locked forward. Chevy’s grin was faint, victorious. A full team of new recruits now marched behind him, their jerseys started to glow a faint cyan. They marched away in step behind Chevy, slowly transforming into cyan drones behind the cyan pup. 

As the basketball players rested during the 15 minute half time, it was time for the cheerleaders and advertisers to shine. 

(Alex, Riley, and the other Golden Cheerleaders)

On the hardwood, Riley and Alex took center stage. They commanded the spotlight, exploding into motion. They led the Golden Army cheerleaders in a dazzling halftime routine. Their halftime routine wasn’t just cheerleading—it was a performance of dominance. Muscles glistened under the lights as they flipped, kicked, and shouted chants of “Gold forever! Gold is unstoppable!” Every leap drew roars, every synchronized pose solidified the crowd’s belief: Gold was untouchable. Their golden energy pulsed through the stands, keeping the home crowd feverish and proud.

Once the Golden cheerleading routine ended, it was time for a word from the sponsors of the game. Yet, as the announcers went to speak and the screens began to flicker, something was off. Replacing ads for the Golden Chalice Pub, Golden Musk deodorant, Black Velvet wine, Golden God Carolina Gold BBQ Sauce, and Ezan’s New Golden Spiced SEED Cookies were Cyan ads. 

(Cyan Advertisements)

Screens flickered from routine commercials to full Cyan propaganda: the Cyan Fraternity inviting new pledges, Cyan Soda poured slowly and fizzing, Cyan Beer foaming in endless mugs, tangy and sweet Carolina Cyan BBQ Sauce, and fresh baked Cyan cookies that were mouthwatering. The crowd’s cheers dimmed as cold blue light bled across the stands. The hive was not just on the court, it was infiltrating every sense.

In the locker room Gold huddled tight, sweat dripping, voices fierce. Brody and Grayden motivated the team, commanding: “Stay loud! Stay golden! This is our house! Don’t let them back in this!” The energy surged like a second heartbeat.

Across the hall, Cyan was different. No shouts. No chaos. A calm, cold recalibration. CC-066 spoke only once: “Clarity. Correction. Convergence.” They would return to the court sharpened, mechanical, relentless. As they entered the court to watch the Cyan cheerleaders, the Cyan drone players led by assistants CC-009 and CC-010 led a mantra, “Absolute Clarity. Driven and committed. Commit to Cyan. One mind. Cyan mind. It doesn't think, it obeys. It doesn't feel, it acts with purpose. It does not doubt, it has clarity. Cyan Clarity!”

(CC-767 and CC-063 leading the cyan "cheer")

By the end of halftime, CC-063 and CC-767 stood shoulder-to-shoulder, leading their own “cheer” on the pavement with the cyan cheerleaders. Their bodies snapped in perfect symmetry, it lacked fire but carried eerie synchronization. The chant was flat, rhythmic, "Absolute Clarity. Obedient and controlled. Submit to Cyan. No mind, just Cyan. It doesn't think, it obeys. It doesn't feel, it acts as instructed. It does not doubt, it has clarity. Cyan Clarity!” Though eerie, it drew a small crowd—proof of cyan’s creeping influence.

(PDU-039 analyzing and scanning)

When the Golden team emerged, a shift was immediate. At the sideline stood PDU-039, gleaming in his glossy level 2 Polo Drone uniform. His posture was unbending. He had been assigned to lead security for the remainder of the match. His golden-trimmed black uniform marked him as authority, as he scanned every corner. No disruptions. No interference. The Hive would ensure Gold and the fans remain protected. 

Gold lined up with their five for the third quarter, multiple players needing to rest off the tough first half still. Nate #66 (Point Guard), Wells #58 (Center), Izzy #45 (Shooting Guard), Boone #96 (Power Forward), Grant #43 (Short Forward). Grayden had conferred with Brody, agreeing to allow the rookie player, Boone, and alternates, Izzy and Grant, play while the other team members rested. 

(Cyan huddling to prepare for the 3rd quarter)

Cyan countered with their “improved clarity roster”. CC-022 (Trey; Short Forward), CC-035 (Leon; Shooting Guard), CC-033 (Jasim; Center), CC-047 (Point Guard), CC-017 (Power Forward). Gasps rippled through the arena. Leon and Jasim—once golden bros—stood now as Cyan drones, eyes blank, movements sharp. From the sidelines, CC-767 raised his arms and shouted: “Clarity rises! Gold blurs!”. The chant echoed: “Serve Cyan. Obey Cyan. Clarity prevails!”

(Cyan creeping in on Tamerlan)

The buzzer sounded and whistles blew to signal the start of the third quarter. On the Gold bench, Tamerlan sat restless as he shifted uncomfortably. His sweat-drenched jersey clung to his skin, his chest heaved, but his mind was not on the game. The cyan screens flashing in the corners caught his eyes again and again. At first, it was nerves—but then the cyan glow from the arena screens began to pulse in rhythm with his heartbeat. He tried to shake it—he was Gold, he was a bro. But the whispers grew.

(Wells on defense)

The Golden Army returned to the court determined to hold their lead. Nate dribbled at the top, calling the play. Wells set a crushing screen at center court, freeing Izzy for a cut. Izzy sprinted off the pick, received the ball, and pulled up for a quick jumper. It rattled in—first points of the half for Gold. The crowd roared, but Cyan did not flinch.

(CC-047 playing)

On the return, CC-047 pushed the pace. His dribbling was low, controlled, hypnotic. Boone stepped up to stop him, but a sharp cross sent Boone sliding the wrong way. CC-047 rose at the elbow and drained the shot—ice-cold, mechanical, precise.

(Wells and Nate playing with CC-047 trying to block them)

Gold countered by pounding the ball inside. Nate fed Wells in the paint under the hoop, where he muscled into CC-047. The two clashed chest-to-chest, sweat flying. Wells spun left, powered up, and banked the ball off the glass for two. Yet as he landed, CC-047’s expressionless cyan gaze never broke, even as the ball swished through.

(CC-022 playing)

The next possession showed Cyan’s eerie teamwork. CC-022 drifted to the corner, CC-035 at the wing, CC-033 playing defense. As CC-047 drove, the defense collapsed. Without looking, he passed the ball off to CC-022, who fired a three. Perfect arc. Swish. Cyan’s bench erupted in rhythmic chants of “Clarity. Clarity.”

(Izzy dribbling right before getting blocked into a trap)

Izzy tried to respond with his own dribble attack, but was instantly swarmed. CC-017, CC-035, and CC-047 closed in, a perfect cyan trap. CC-017 stepped up, CC-035 slid over, and suddenly Izzy was surrounded by three cyan defenders. He lost the ball, but Wells dove for it, grunting. He grabbed the loose ball and powered it back up for a rebound score.

(Alton sitting on the Bench and Brody on the sidelines)

From the bench, Alton shouted himself hoarse, trying to get Gold back into rhythm. But the tide kept turning. Brody tried to motivate the team as he anticipated Cyan’s next plays, unaware of what was happening on the bench next to him.

(Tamerlan transforming more)

The lights above flickered faint cyan above Tamerlan. Franco and Kasper sitting beside him. His breath slowed, muscles tightening as his limbs felt heavy. He leaned forward, clutching his head, teammates unaware. 

The voices filled him: “You are not Eddy. You are not Tamerlan. You are a Cyan Drone. Clarity has come for you”

He pressed his palms to his face, whispering: “No. Stay gold.” But the whisper weakened. The screens above flickered faster. His muscles seized. He saw himself in fragments—memories of laughter, sweat, brotherhood—all unraveling.

The voice of Cyan filled him: “You are not Eddy. You are not Tamerlan. You are a Drone Unit.”

He fought—memories of sweat with bros, laughter in golden locker rooms—but the pressure crushed harder. His body trembled, his golden eyes dimming. His name slipped from him, syllable by syllable, until only the number remained: 073.

Minute by minute, his resistance cracked. He clutched his jersey, watching as cyan bled across it, gold fading. 

(Tamerlan mostly transformed)

The cyan spread. Cyan seeped across his jersey, consuming the gold. Cyan seeped into his uniform, gold dissolving into the vibrant shades of blue. His arms glistened, muscles encased in perfect, glossy cyan tracing every curve. His breathing slowed, mechanical. As the cyan hood creeped over his face, cutting off his last gasp of individuality. It was sealed across his face and his final gasp as “Tamerlan” was lost.

(CC-073 transformed)

When he rose, it was no longer Tamerlan. He was CC-073, eyes glowing cyan, posture rigid. Silent. Empty. Obedient. He had achieved Clarity.

(Franco and Kasper noticing the newly transformed CC-073 between them)

Kasper and Franco eventually looked over to see a Cyan CC-073 sitting between them. Shock filled their faces, worried they might be next. Franco got up to get Maximus, but Kasper was frozen in place.

(Daniel/PDU-016 now CC-016)

But not only for CC-073’s transformation, mere feet away Daniel had also succumbed to cyan. His jersey warped, his golden number dissolving into the metallic glint of 016 across his back. His face emptied, his voice silenced. Another player lost to cyan as CC-016 cheered next to CC-767.

(CC-017 jumping with the ball)

Back on the court, on the very next trip, CC-033 set a brutal pick, flattening Nate to the floor. CC-017 exploited it, slicing through the lane for a layup. The crowd groaned.

(Grayden on the sidelines)

Grayden, having analyzed the situation, knew he had to channel his mascot ways. He cheered for his Golden teammates trying to encourage them to get up and break through Cyan’s defense. 

(Boone preparing for his free throws)

Then came Boone’s moment. He grabbed a rebound, pushed hard up the court, and drove directly into CC-017. The clash was violent—shoulder to chest, sweat to sweat. The whistle blew. Foul on CC-017. Boone stepped to the line, breathing hard. The lights dimmed slightly as he prepared to take his shots. First shot—clanged off the rim. Second shot—swished. One point, but the bench and crowd roared for him.

Cyan answered clinically. A perfect pick-and-roll between CC-047 and CC-033 led to an easy dunk. Then CC-022 nailed another jumper. CC-035 floated in a soft two. Every member of Cyan scored, spreading the damage evenly, their efficiency crushing.

(Wells' rebound score)

Wells fought back with sheer willpower. He grabbed an offensive rebound, pivoted, and powered up through CC-022’s block attempt. The ball dropped. Another rebound. Another put-back. His muscles flexed, veins bulging, his roar echoing through the arena. Wells was carrying Gold, but even his strength was not enough.

By the buzzer, the scoreboard told the story. Gold had battled, sweated, bled—but Cyan had dissected them with precision. 

CYAN 73- GOLD 71

Gold’s 16-point lead erased. Cyan stood on top, every player scoring, every conversion cutting deeper. The arena fell into silence. Gold was shaken. The fourth quarter would decide everything. The Golden storm had broken, and with one quarter left, the fate of Gold hung in the balance.

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Thank you to everyone who helped with pictures for this quarter.

Gold Players/Cyan Drones Referenced this quarter:

Chevy #63 (CC-063 in the story) @chevy-gold

Riley #60 @rileygold60

Brody #11 @brodygold

Grayden #84/PDU-084 @polo-drone-084

Alex #64/PDU-151 @polo-drone-151

Herc #09/PDU-009 (CC-009 in the story) @goldenherc9

Ares #10 (CC-010 in the story) @goldengod-ares10

Devon #67/PDU-767 (CC-767 in the story) @polo-drone-767

Xavier #39/PDU-039 @polo-drone-039

Nate #66/PDU-166 @polo-drone-166

Wells #58 @wells-gold58

Izzy #45 @isaac-gold-45

Boone #96 @polo-drone-096

Grant #43 @grant-gold

Trey #59/PDU-059 (CC-022 in the story) @hero21us

Leon #35/PDU-035 (CC-035 in the story) (Tumblr unknown)

Jasim #33 (CC-033 in the story) @jasimgold

Tamerlan #73/PDU-073 (Transformed into CC-073) @polo-drone-073

Franco #94 @franco-gold94

Kasper #90/PDU-090 @pdu-090

Alton #77 @alton-gold77

Daniel #16/PDU-016 (Transformed into CC-016) @danielgold-16

CC-066, CC-047, CC-017 are fictional NPCs not based on any real members of the Golden Army.

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DISCLAIMERS:

Gold is not affiliated with SERVE, any SERVE drones present in the story chose to collaborate with Gold with proper permissions and consent.

We are aware that jersey numbers 0-55 are more common in basketball, certain jersey numbers are uncommon, and sometimes certain jersey numbers specify or are favored by certain positions, this is a fictional match please do not comment on the accuracy of the jersey numbers to real life. We're just trying to have fun.

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We hope you enjoyed the third quarter. The start of the 4th quarter is coming soon.