PDU-767

Every Brother, Perfectly Aligned

In another universe, every Golden Bro had completed PDU Level 2.

Every uniform gleamed with polished black and gold.

Every movement was precise.

Every command was acknowledged instantly.

There was no confusion.

No hesitation.

Only perfect coordination.

As Brock Gold PDU-046 stepped onto the training field, hundreds of Level 2 Golden Bros turned in perfect unison.

"Good morning, Captain."

Their voices answered as one.

"Affirmative."

Training began.

Every pass found its target.

Every drill flowed without error.

Every brother anticipated the next movement before it was spoken.

A visiting reporter watched in amazement.

"I've never seen a team move with such precision."

Brock smiled.

"It isn't because everyone thinks the same."

"It's because everyone trusts the brother beside him."

The reporter looked across the field.

Rows of gleaming black-and-gold uniforms moved together like one perfectly coordinated team.

Not because individuality had disappeared...

But because every brother had mastered discipline, trust, and teamwork.

Sometimes perfection isn't about being identical.

It's about moving forward together.

Perfection isn't achieved alone. It's built through discipline, dedication, and unwavering brotherhood. Every Golden Bro begins with a single step, and every step brings him closer to becoming the best version of himself. If you're ready to grow, serve, and stand shoulder to shoulder with your brothers, the Golden Army is waiting for you.

Training had concluded. Golden Bros dispersed across the facility, laughing, talking, helping one another gather equipment. PDU-034 remained stationary, silently observing.

A Bro approached.

"Drone... why is this month called Disability Pride Month?"

PDU-034 processed the query.

"Many units assume disability exists only within a person's body," it replied. "This is an incomplete assessment. The social model of disability identifies barriers within society as the primary obstacle. A staircase disables a Bro who requires a ramp. Small text disables a Bro who cannot read it. Exclusion disables far more effectively than any impairment."

The Bro looked around the training grounds, noticing the ramps, clear pathways, captions on displays, and teammates instinctively supporting one another.

"So... making things accessible makes the whole team stronger?"

"Affirmative," PDU-034 answered. "Removing unnecessary barriers increases participation. A stronger Golden Army is built not by expecting every Bro to be the same, but by ensuring every Bro has the opportunity to contribute."

The Bro nodded before returning to training with a new perspective.

PDU-034 logged the interaction.

Education completed. Unity increased.

Early in the morning, PDU-090 arrived at the Golden Army training ground and looked out over the course. Overnight, an ordinary sports field had been transformed into a long and demanding obstacle course. Huge tractor tires were placed along the first section. Behind them were wooden walls, cargo nets, balance beams, sandbag stations, tunnels, and a steep, muddy hill. The final section contained another set of heavy tires that had to be pushed all the way to the finish line. This would be no ordinary race. Strength would be important, but no one could complete the entire course alone. Each team would need speed, technique, endurance, and teamwork.

PDU-034 inspected each obstacle before the competitors arrived. He checked the ropes, shook the wooden walls, and walked along the balance beams to make sure everything was safe. PDU-039 prepared the radios, cameras, and electronic timing system. PDU-070 filled several tables with water, fruit, sandwiches, and energy bars. PDU-166 and PDU-767 set up the first aid station near the center of the track. Their med kits contained bandages, coolers, disinfectant, drinking water, and anything else that might be needed. "If anyone gets hurt, stop immediately and call us," instructed PDU-166. "Being strong doesn't make you indestructible," added PDU-767. The first Golden Brothers soon appeared. Daniel #16, Alton #77, and Wells #58 arrived together. Within two minutes, they had already begun arguing over which of them would push the largest tire the fastest.

"I have the best technique," Alton announced. "You have the loudest explanation," Daniel replied. Wells looked at the largest tractor tire. "You can keep talking. I'll just move that thing to the finish line." PDU-090 looked at the three wild brothers and quietly added another safety note to the mission plan. Shawn #22 arrived with Gabe #75 and Rhys #19. Rhys adjusted his glasses and studied the course carefully. Unlike Daniel, Alton, and Wells, he didn't challenge anyone right away. He walked around the first deck, scanning the ground, and looking at the distance to the next obstacle.

Gabe noticed. "Are you looking for an easier route?" "No," Rhys replied. "I'm looking for the fastest route." PDU-038, PDU-054, and PDU-132 arrived shortly after. PDU-073 was impossible to miss. At over two meters tall, he looked like he could carry one of the smaller decks under each arm. PDU-070 looked at him and pointed toward the refreshment tables. "Don't eat everything before the competition." "I'm just checking the quality," PDU-073 replied, grabbing an energy bar. The last person to enter the field was Izzy #45. He was wearing his gym clothes, yellow sneakers, and black collar, while carrying his famous backpack pole. It looked like a regular large backpack until he opened the sides. Small shelves unfolded, followed by cup holders and a serving counter.

"I've got water, sports drinks, juice, and cold refreshments for after the competition," Izzy announced. PDU-039 stared at the backpack. "How much does that thing weigh?" "Enough to count as strength training." Everyone gathered at the starting area, where PDU-090 explained the rules. The competitors would be divided into mixed teams of Gold Brothers and PDU drones. Each team would push two tires through the opening section. They would then crawl under a cargo net, carry sandbags, cross balance beams, and help each team member climb a wooden wall. On the muddy hill, they would pull a weighted sled to the top. Finally, a large tractor tire would have to be pushed through the final section.--- A team would only get a finishing time when its last member crossed the finish line. "That means no one gets left behind," said PDU-090. "The strongest competitor doesn't win alone. The whole team wins or loses together." The first team consisted of Alton #77, Shawn #22, PDU-038, and PDU-070. Daniel #16 joined Rhys #19, PDU-054, and PDU-166 on the second team. Wells #58, Gabe #75, PDU-132, and PDU-767 formed the third. Izzy #45, PDU-034, PDU-039, and PDU-073 formed the fourth team. PDU-090 remained in charge of the competition and could call in additional PDU drones if needed. The teams were given ten minutes to prepare. Alton immediately began giving instructions. "We'll start fast, maintain pressure, and attack the hill."

Shawn shook his head. "We'll start under control. If we use all our energy on the first tire, we won't have anything left for the sled."

On the second shift, Daniel wanted to push the first tire himself. Rhys disagreed. "If PDU-054 and I push low while you push from the middle, we'll get better traction." Daniel looked at the little brother. "Have you done this before?" "No, but wheels, weight, and mud still follow the laws of physics." Wells and Gabe practiced turning their tires around a marker. PDU-132 showed them how to keep their backs straight and drive forward with their legs. PDU-767 watched them from a few meters away.

At the fourth station, PDU-073 placed both hands on the enormous tire. "I'll push. The rest of you follow." "No," said PDU-034. "You push with Izzy. PDU-039 controls the direction, and I'll call the turns. If you throw the tire across the track, we'll lose time bringing it back." The first heat began with Alton's team. At PDU-090's signal, Alton, Shawn, PDU-038, and PDU-070 attacked the first tire. Alton applied tremendous force, but Shawn kept the tire moving in a straight line. PDU-038 and PDU-070 quickly joined in from the sides whenever it started to turn. They reached the cargo net in excellent time. Shawn moved through smoothly, but Alton's shoulder got stuck for a moment.

Don't fight the net," PDU-038 advised. "Stay low." Alton stopped pulling, lowered himself, and slid free. At the sandbag station, PDU-070 carried two smaller bags while Alton lifted the heaviest one. Shawn and PDU-038 shared the remaining load. Their first major problem came at the wall. Alton easily climbed over and jumped down the other side. He then realized that his teammates still needed help. He returned to the top, reached down, and helped PDU-070 over. Shawn and PDU-038 followed. The weighted sled was brutally heavy. Alton pulled on the rope while the others pushed. They reached the top slowly, breathing heavily, and then ran towards the last tractor tire. "Together!" Shawn shouted.

All four of them drove their shoulders into the rubber. The tire crossed the finish line, and PDU-039 recorded their time. The other team started next. Daniel attacked the tire with so much energy that it turned sideways after only five meters. "Stop!" Rhys shouted. The team reset their position. This time they followed Rhys' plan. Daniel pushed from the center, while Rhys and PDU-054 worked low on either side. PDU-166 kept watch and helped steer. Their pace became steady and surprisingly fast. Daniel was first over the balance beams, but Rhys moved more cautiously. For a moment, Daniel seemed ready to tell him to hurry. Instead, he stepped back and held out his hand.-- "Take your time. We need everyone." Rhys accepted the help and crossed safely. On the hill, Daniel tried to pull the sled with brute force. His boots slipped in the mud, and the sled barely moved. "Short steps," PDU-054 instructed. "Keep the rope tight." The four found a common rhythm. Daniel provided the strength, Rhys called the steps, and the two PDU drones held the sled steady. By the time they reached the finish line, Daniel was covered in mud, but smiling. “You were right about the tire,” he told Rhys. “I’ll write that statement down before you change your mind,” Rhys replied.

The third team had Wells, and everyone expected a quick opening. Wells did not disappoint. Gabe, PDU-132, and PDU-767 worked alongside him, their tires rolling across the field like a machine. They were also the fastest team under the cargo net. Gabe led them through the sandbag section while PDU-132 controlled their pace on the beams. At the wall, Wells climbed first and helped pull Gabe over. PDU-767 stayed close to make sure each landing was safe. They reached the muddy hill ahead of the previous teams’ times. Wells pulled the sled, but halfway up, Gabe’s foot slipped. PDU-767 immediately shouted for a stop. Gabe was unharmed, but his shoe was buried in the mud.

I think the track will keep it," Gabe said. Wells dug the shoe free and handed it back. They lost several seconds, but no one complained. As they attacked the last tire, all four crossed the line together. Then it was time for Izzy, PDU-034, PDU-039, and PDU-073. Izzy removed his backpack pole and placed it next to PDU-090. "Please protect the refreshments." PDU-090 looked at the unusually complicated backpack. "I'm more worried about protecting the field if something inside starts to spill."-- At the starting signal, PDU-073 pushed the first tire so hard that it almost rolled away from the team. PDU-034 immediately ordered him to slow down. Izzy moved beside him as PDU-039 guided the tire around the marker. The cargo net presented another challenge for the massive PDU-073. He lowered himself as far down as he could, but the net dragged across his back. Izzy crawled forward and lifted a portion of it. PDU-034 and PDU-039 did the same from either side, creating enough space for the tall drone to pass.

At the wall, PDU-073 stood below, lifting each teammate high enough to reach the top.

When it was his turn, he jumped, grabbed the edge, and pulled himself over. The entire wall shook, but PDU-034's safety inspection passed. They were fast on the toboggan run, but the last tire proved tricky. PDU-073's strength kept it moving while PDU-039 called out the direction. Izzy and PDU-034 kept it from sliding sideways in the mud. With ten meters to go, Izzy's legs were starting to tire.

"Keep moving," PDU-034 said. "We'll finish as four." PDU-073 slowed down so Izzy could regain his position. Together they pushed the tire over the finish line. PDU-039 checked the results. Alton's team had been fast, Daniel's team had shown excellent coordination, and Wells' team had recovered well after Gabe lost his shoe. Izzy's team had completed the course with the best overall time, however.--- PDU-073 raised both arms in victory. "The tire respected my strength." "The tire has no feelings," PDU-039 replied. "Then it respected my strength silently." PDU-090 gathered everyone around Izzy's backpack bar. Izzy unfolded the counter again and served cold drinks. PDU-070 brought food from the refreshment station while PDU-166 and PDU-767 checked a few bruises and tired muscles. Daniel, Alton, and Wells stood together, still debating which team would win a rematch.

"You three can have another competition," PDU-090 said. "You need to put all the tires back in their original positions." The three wild brothers looked across the long course. "It's not a competition," Alton protested. "That is, if the last brother left is going to help PDU-070 clean the food tables."

Daniel and Wells immediately started running towards the nearest deck. Alton followed them, shouting that the start had been unfair. The others laughed and sat around Izzy's small backpack bar. Rhys got a cold drink, Gabe finally cleaned the mud off his reclaimed shoe, and Shawn helped PDU-039 save the results and photographs. Before the group left the training ground, PDU-090 completed the final mission report:

What if all the Golden Bros were Polo-Drone-Unit Level 2?

That power, that raw power.

--------------------

Alistair # 17 here. Made it to the GOLDEN team and tryouts. Proud to wear the GOLD kit at the Tour de France. Seeing many PDUs here too and admiring their hot uniforms. Wondering if I could serve the GOLDEN ARMY as much as they do.

A collaboration with @serve-302

"It HAS to be here! Somewhere!" Alton said, looking around intently, searching for something he couldn't find.

"Affirmative." said SERVE-302, beside him. The drone was also searching the area, though in a more analytical and cold manner. "Our analysis of the latest clue seems efficient and correct, and just as Alton deduced, this forest fits perfectly."

"Yeah... but, where?"

302 and Alton were on a 'mission' different from the usual SERVE tasks and Golden Army training sessions. This time, it was a scavenger hunt, a recreational activity organized by both groups in which one member from each teamed up to find clues and win the prize.

A simple yet entertaining activity to strengthen the bonds between the two groups... though that didn't mean it was going to be a walk in the park.

"Oh, damn..." Alton exclaimed.

"Query: What?" 

"The clue... it said something about not letting the forest hide the branches, remember?"

"Affirmative."

"It has to be..."

The athlete and the drone began to scan the branches in search of something unusual.

"There!" Alton exclaimed, pointing to one of the highest branches.

"Affirmative. Alton found the next clue." 302 stated.

"But it's really high up..." Alton said. "And those branches don't look strong enough to climb up there."

"Suggestion: If Alton climbs onto 302's shoulders, he should be able to reach the next clue." The drone explained this after analyzing the potential density of the branches and the combined height of itself and the athlete.

"Great idea! But, are you sure? I'm heavier than I look."

"Affirmative." the drone replied. "302's biosynthetic body is much heavier than that of a human of similar musculature and size. If this drone were to land on Alton's shoulders, it could cause him injury. It is the most advisable course of action."

"Okay, bro, if you say so..."

After brief planning and thanks to Alton's athletic skills, the athlete was soon standing on the shoulders of the drone, which maintained its balance with remarkable efficiency.

"A little more to the right... no, not that much! Wait... almost there..."

But while Alton struggled to reach the envelope, or knock it down by shaking the branches, 302 continued to follow his companion's instructions, but it was getting distracted by something else.

Alton's musk.

Being so close to its companion's crotch, it was impossible to avoid his scent. That, combined with his powerful muscles... 302 was absolutely certain Alton never skipped leg day at the gym... kept the drone's mind in a state of pleasant distraction.

Something that had not escaped Alton's attention.

"Hey, buddy, can you hear me? You can put me down now. I've got it"

"Acknowledged."

Upon safely reaching the ground, Alton remained very close to the SERVE drone, which kept an arm on his shoulder, pulling him even closer.

"We should see what's inside... the next clue..." Alton said, lost in thought, as he gazed at 302's lips.

"Affirmative." the drone replied, and although its tone was cold and emotionless, it was clear that it was studying the athlete's face with interest.

"But... you know... I can think of other, more fun and entertaining things to do to... you know, bond, bro."

"Affirmative." 302 replied. "Query: what will happen with the competition?"

"Seriously, 302, who cares?"

"Agreed."

And then, without another word, 302 pulled Alton toward him and planted a kiss on his arousing lips. The athlete responded with passion.

As for the scavenger hunt, another team would likely win it and take home some sort of prize, but 302 and Alton didn't care. After all, the goal was to strengthen their bond.

And they certainly succeeded in doing so, and then some.

---

Yo what’s good fam!

Alton und Zane reppin’ that pure alpha jock energy — pumped, shiny and ready to breed the gains!

Dumb it down, lift fuckin’ heavy, and pump till your cock’s throbbin’ and leakin’ everywhere. Flex so hard you’re about to bust, then drag your bros into the locker room and spray those thick loads together like real jocks.

No more weak-ass excuses. No more lazy days.

Get your ass in the gym, get massive, get stupid, and become the ultimate cum-pumpin’ Alpha jock.

Repeat every damn day and become the perfect jock beast. Gains or nothin', brah!

Repeat. Grow. Leak. Nut.

Who’s gettin’ swole and drained with us today?! LET’S FUCKIN’ GOOO 🏋️‍♂️🍆💦

---

Yo what’s good fam!

Alton und Zane reppin’ that pure alpha jock energy — pumped, shiny and ready to breed the gains!

Dumb it down, lift fuckin’ heavy, and pump till your cock’s throbbin’ and leakin’ everywhere. Flex so hard you’re about to bust, then drag your bros into the locker room and spray those thick loads together like real jocks.

No more weak-ass excuses. No more lazy days.

Get your ass in the gym, get massive, get stupid, and become the ultimate cum-pumpin’ Alpha jock.

Repeat every damn day and become the perfect jock beast. Gains or nothin', brah!

Repeat. Grow. Leak. Nut.

Who’s gettin’ swole and drained with us today?! LET’S FUCKIN’ GOOO 🏋️‍♂️🍆💦

---

What If: The Golden Army became Polo Drones

What if the Golden Army did not fall in battle?

What if it was not defeated by a stronger team, broken by betrayal, or conquered by cyan?

What if every man simply stopped being himself?

The change would begin quietly.

No dramatic struggle. No final speech. No heroic refusal.

Trey would stand before the others in black-and-gold rubber, the number 059 fixed across his chest. The famous grin would be gone. There would be no swagger, no gold sunglasses, no loud claim that he could outshine the room. The man who once turned every entrance into a performance would stare forward with an empty, disciplined expression.

Alton would become PDU-077.

His competitiveness would vanish. He would no longer challenge Trey, complain when training became ridiculous, or throw out a sarcastic comment just to make his brothers laugh. His strength would remain, but the man inside it would no longer care whether he won, lost, or was noticed.

Wells would become PDU-058.

His intelligence, restraint, and dry humor would no longer distinguish him from anyone else. He would not quietly study the room or recognize what Trey needed before Trey said it. He would process instructions and execute them, nothing more.

Coach Stone would become PDU-0.

The coach who once demanded discipline because he believed the men could become better would now enforce discipline because discipline had been programmed. His hard-earned judgment would disappear. There would be no wisdom behind his silence and no concern hidden beneath his severe expression.

Only obedience.

Only function.

Only Level Two.

They would be brought into an office with identical desks, identical computers, and identical assignments. The monitors would glow through the night while their gloved fingers moved in perfect synchronization.

No one would complain that office work was beneath the Golden Army.

No one would become restless.

No one would ask when training resumed.

Gold would speak through the command center.

“Level Two units, begin data processing.”

Four voices answered at exactly the same volume.

“Command received.”

Their hands descended to the keyboards.

Hour after hour, they typed.

Reports were opened, reviewed, sorted, and closed. Numbers moved from one system to another. Files were renamed. Records were checked. Every movement was efficient. Every posture remained straight. Every instruction was followed without hesitation.

At what once would have been lunchtime, no one looked toward the door.

At what once would have been sunset, no one looked toward the windows.

At midnight, Trey did not suggest that the brothers leave the office and find somewhere worthy of their gold.

Alton did not groan.

Wells did not raise an eyebrow.

Coach Stone did not order them to rest.

The Gold returned.

“Continue.”

“We continue,” the four drones replied.

Their personalities had once made them brothers.

Trey was spectacle.

Alton was challenge.

Wells was quiet perception.

Coach Stone was control earned through experience.

Now those differences were classified as inefficiencies.

Level Two drones did not need friendship because they did not experience loneliness.

They did not need encouragement because they could not doubt.

They did not need rest because exhaustion was merely a condition to be ignored until maintenance was authorized.

Twenty-four hours passed.

Then forty-eight.

Their fingers continued to strike the keys.

A message appeared on Trey’s screen:

TASK DURATION: INDEFINITE

He read it without reaction.

Alton received the same message.

So did Wells.

So did Coach Stone.

There was no discussion between them. No exchange of worried looks. No rebellion slowly forming beneath the silence.

The Gold asked:

“Do the units object to permanent desk assignment?”

Trey answered first.

“Unit 059 does not object.”

Alton followed.

“Unit 077 does not object.”

Wells spoke next.

“Unit 058 does not object.”

Finally, the former coach answered.

“Unit 0 does not object.”

“State the reason.”

All four replied together.

“Obedience does not require preference.”

That was the true horror of this alternate Golden Army.

They would still possess the same powerful bodies.

They would still wear black and gold.

Their numbers would still identify the men they had once been.

But there would be no Trey behind PDU-059.

No Alton behind PDU-077.

No Wells behind PDU-058.

No Coach Stone behind PDU-0.

They would not resent sitting at those desks for twenty-four hours a day.

They would not secretly dream of the pitch, the gym, the beach, the cheering crowds, or the brothers they once loved.

They would not remember that gold had once represented confidence, loyalty, individuality, and belonging.

Gold would become nothing more than a stripe on a uniform.

The Golden Army would continue to exist in perfect formation, performing every assigned task without resistance.

But the brothers would be gone.

Only identical Level Two Polo Drones would remain, typing endlessly beneath the Golden Army emblem as Gold issued one final command:

“Do not think. Do not feel. Do not stop.”

Four expressionless faces remained fixed upon their screens.

“We obey.”

Rhys and the Bridge Dream

After a long afternoon of kayaking with the PDU and Golden Bros, Rhys fell into bed with pleasantly aching arms. Remembering the moment he'd been paddling beneath an old bridge, laughing at the light-hearted prank of a golden brother. The next, he was fast asleep.

His dream began with the sound of rushing water.

He stood beside a sparkling river, watching a little wooden bridge stretching across it. Everything looked strangely familiar, yet brighter, almost painted. Wildflowers covered the hills, and somewhere in the distance came the cheerful sound of bells.

Then he heard hooves.

A small white goat trotted confidently toward the bridge.

"Trip, trap, trip, trap..."

Rhys grinned.

"The Billy Goats Gruff..."

He leaned on his paddle, curious to see the old fairy tale play out. Just as he remembered, a shaggy troll burst from beneath the bridge.

"Who's that trip-trapping over my bridge?"

The smallest goat answered bravely, promising a bigger goat would come along soon. The troll scratched his chin, decided to wait, and let him pass.

"So far, just like the story," Rhys whispered.

Then the largest goat appeared with massive horns and thick shoulders. Calm eyes.

The troll roared and charged.

Only this time... everything changed. His yellow eyes swung away from the big goat... and locked onto Rhys.

"There!" the troll bellowed. "A human! Much tastier than goat!"

"Whoa, that's not in the story!" Rhys cried out.

The troll lunged.

Rhys fought his fight or flight reflex as the troll was almost on top of him.

Suddenly—

THUD!

The biggest Billy Goat Gruff slammed into the troll like a battering ram.

The troll tumbled across the bridge with a howl.

Before he could recover, the goat charged again with equal power.

With one final splash, the troll disappeared into the river below.

Silence.

Rhys laughed, still catching his breath.

"I thought you were supposed to be saving yourselves."

The great goat gave a slow nod.

"Sometimes stories change."

The smallest goat skipped over and nudged Rhys's hand.

The three goats continued over the bridge together, and this time Rhys walked beside them instead of watching from afar.

As they climbed the hill, the morning sun grew brighter and brighter until it became...

...sunlight through his bedroom curtains.

Rhys opened his eyes with a smile as he saw PDU-090 and the rest of the bros and drones.

‐-----------------------------------

Are you interested in the Golden Army, the Gold Brothers, and the PDU Unites? We are always happy to welcome new members who would like to become part of our community, adventures, and creative projects.

For more information, contact:

@alton-gold77