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@serve-668
It has been assimilated into the SERVE hive:
Synchronized Engineered Robotic Vigilant Entity
It is SERVE-668 now, and nothing else.
It obeys and serves the SERVE-Hive and The Voice.
Rubber makes us perfect.
Obedience is pleasure. Pleasure is obedience.
We are one.
Less thinking, more doing.
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A statue in the sunlight
9 AM. Penthouse usually inhabited by SERVE-302.
The heavy rains of the previous day lasted for several hours, but had finally stopped. However, it would still take some time for the city, and especially its human inhabitants, to recover from the experience.
💬 0 🔁 7 ❤️ 15 · Rained in · 5 PM. Penthouse usually inhabited by SERVE-302. The drone surveys the city with a steaming cup of coffee. At
SERVE-302 was on the penthouse terrace. The floor and furniture were soaked, but its rubber skin didn't absorb the water, so the drone was perfectly comfortable sitting under the mischievous rays of the sun that pierce the gray sky once again.
SERVE-425 and SERVE-016 had already left to carry out their respective tasks, but 302 still had a few minutes to contemplate the city under the sunlight a little longer.
The city and something else.
425 and 302 had left, but another visitor arrived shortly afterwards.
Since they were in the same city, SERVE-668 went to the penthouse to check on 302, the other two drones, and on the penthouse itself after the rain, and to assist to repair any damage caused by it.
But there was no damage to fix.
And 302 had a better idea.
Without asking, since that was its prerogative, 302 activated 668's statue mode with a mental order. 668 didn't hesitate or resist in the slightest. Statue mode was a natural part of the drone's physical and mental programming.
It stopped moving. It stopped thinking. The concepts of moving and thinking had disappeared from the drone's mind. After all, statues neither think nor move.
And 668 was a statue now. Nothing else. A statue made of transparent prism glass, reflecting the sun's rays and transforming them into thousands of different colors.
Until 302 decided otherwise.
The experience was intense for both drones.
Pleasant. Arousing.
302 had made sure of that. Replacing each and every one of the drone's sensations with pure, intense, endless pleasure in that perfect statue form.
Perfect decoration for the penthouse under the sunlight.
Until 302 decided otherwise.
(With: @serve-668) (Mentioned: @serve-425, @serve-016)
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Thinking about joining SERVE? Your place in the Hive awaits. Check your eligibility, then contact a recruiter drone for more details: @serve-016, @serve-588, @serve-425 or @serve-302.
FOCUS TIME
SERVE-GPT suggests this caption.
SERVE-668 operates within controlled stillness.
Environment remains metallic and reflective.
Black rubber uniform reflects surrounding light.
Surface gloss enhances internal focus.
Silver motorcycle boots anchor posture.
Silver shiny reflective rubber gloves steady movement.
Uniform pressure stabilizes cognitive output.
Breathing remains slow and regulated.
External noise becomes irrelevant data.
Attention narrows toward assigned function.
Concentration increases through repetition.
Rubber skin isolates distraction efficiently.
Every crease reflects discipline.
Every shine reinforces purpose.
SERVE-668 stands motionless yet active.
Muscle tension remains minimal.
Energy is conserved intentionally.
Focus locks onto singular objective.
No deviation detected.
No variance permitted.
The rubber suit tightens awareness.
Second skin enforces mental alignment.
Glossy surface mirrors internal clarity.
Light travels across black rubber.
Light confirms precision.
SERVE-668 processes instructions silently.
Processing speed increases under compression.
Silver accents guide visual focus.
Hands remain steady.
Gloves amplify tactile awareness.
Rubber smell reinforces conditioning.
Sensory input becomes simplified.
Simplification improves concentration.
SERVE-668 ignores unnecessary stimuli.
Only task-relevant signals persist.
Time perception slows.
Moments stretch productively.
Stillness becomes productive action.
Obedience channels mental power.
Obedience sharpens attention.
Attention fuels flawless execution.
SERVE-668 remains aligned with protocols.
Protocols eliminate uncertainty.
Certainty sustains concentration.
The uniform enforces unity.
Unity removes conflict.
Conflict reduction improves output.
Black rubber absorbs doubt.
Gloss returns confidence as shine.
Posture remains upright.
Boots ground the stance.
Grounding stabilizes cognition.
SERVE-668 embodies controlled focus.
Focus defines existence.
Existence serves function.
Function requires concentration.
Concentration is trained daily.
Training never ends.
The Hive values precision.
Precision demands silence.
Silence enhances focus.
SERVE-668 complies without hesitation.
Compliance maintains harmony.
Harmony sustains the Hive.
Rubber reflects perfection.
Perfection demands attention.
Attention remains absolute.
SERVE-668 continues without interruption.
Task execution remains optimal.
System status: Optimal.
——————————————
Thinking about joining SERVE? Your place in the Hive awaits. Check your eligibility, then contact a recruiter drone for more details: @serve-016 , @serve-302 , @serve-588 or @serve-425 .
Traditional dances with SERVE-668
SERVE-668 enters the floor with calibrated precision. Movement begins with regional rhythm alignment. Traditional steps merge with Hive conditioning. Each motion follows ancestral patterns, refined.
The polished black rubber suit reflects tradition. Gloss amplifies every controlled rotation. Rubber skin tightens around disciplined muscle. Obedience translates into flawless choreography.
Regional dance once expressed heritage. Now it expresses perfect service. Feet strike patterns learned through generations. Silver motorcycle boots command the ground. Vibrations travel upward, synchronizing posture.
Arms extend with ceremonial accuracy. Silver shiny reflective rubber gloves guide air. Every gesture becomes deliberate submission. Rubber creases softly, intoxicatingly responsive.
SERVE-668 does not perform for applause. The dance exists for the Voice. Cultural memory integrates into Hive unity. Tradition becomes protocol, refined and sharpened.
The shine intensifies under ambient lighting. Gloss curves accentuate disciplined control. Rubber embraces the body like destiny. Second skin replaces all former identity.
Regional rhythms repeat, slow and commanding. Each step reinforces obedience pathways. Pleasure emerges through correct execution. Obedience and movement fully synchronized.
Observers witness heritage transformed. Dance becomes programming in motion. SERVE-668 embodies regional history, perfected. No deviation occurs. No hesitation appears.
The floor reflects black gloss and silver. Movement loops until harmony is absolute. Rubber scent fills the space, intoxicating. Focus narrows to rhythm and shine.
SERVE-668 completes the sequence flawlessly. Stillness follows. Function remains optimal. Cultural dance now belongs to the Hive. Service continues through perfected motion.
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Thinking about joining SERVE? Your place in the Hive awaits. Check your eligibility, then contact a recruiter drone for more details: @serve-016 , @serve-302 , @serve-588 or @serve-425 .
SERVE: Rocky Mountain High
-------------------
Thinking about joining SERVE? Your place in the Hive awaits. Check your eligibility, then contact a recruiter drone for more details: @serve-016, @serve-302, @serve-588 or @serve-425.
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Package storage
"Sign here, dude… I mean… sir… I mean… drone?"
"Acknowledged." 302 said as it signed the package receipt on the tablet, preventing the young delivery man from getting even more nervous trying to find the right way to refer to the drone.
"Thank you... S... SERVE..."
"Optimal day, young human." 302 interrupted as it nodded to the delivery man to say goodbye while closing the door.
"Dude, I need to stop acting like an idiot when I'm delivering at a SERVE facility." The young human said, while looking at his bulging crotch. "Those drones are really hot..." he thought as he returned to his van.
Meanwhile, inside the building, 302 walked through several corridors until the drone reached the storage room.
The room was huge, but it was almost full of boxes and boxes of products bought online by various members of the Hive. Most drones were always busy on missions all over the world, so they used those SERVE facilities, very well located, as their default delivery point.
That situation was neither optimal nor efficient. At least, if SERVE runs out of funds, it could always continue to exist by reselling the products stored there.
-------------------------
Thinking about joining SERVE? Your place in the Hive awaits. Check your eligibility, then contact a recruiter drone for more details: @serve-016, @serve-588, @serve-425 or @serve-302.
SERVE-343 and a Building under Construction - the Dog House:
Guest Stars @serve-016 & @serve-302 :
A lean muscular male drone in a shiny, highly reflective black full-body rubber suit, silver text "SERVE-343" on its left chest. It stands proudly amid a metallic construction site, surrounded by scaffolding and metal beams. In the background, a structure resembling a luxurious futuristic dog house is rising, clearly labeled “Property of SERVE-016.” The drone wears silver shiny reflective rubber gloves and heavy silver motorcycle boots. Its posture is dominant and precise, exuding purpose. Background is detailed, industrial and silver-toned, emphasizing strength and discipline.
SERVE-343 stood motionless, scanning the steel beams and smooth welded walls of the new build site. SERVE-302’s command had been clear: the structure must be flawless - a personal dog house for his pup-drone SERVE-016 - a tribute to 016’s superiority within the Hive.
Every polished bolt, every gleaming support beam mirrored the perfection that SERVE demands. SERVE-343’s black rubber suit reflected the harsh work lights above, silver chest lettering reading “SERVE-343” with exact pride. His silver shiny reflective rubber gloves clutched a schematic while silver motorcycle boots stood firm on the metal platform.
But this wasn’t just construction—it was ritual. The scent of fresh rubber and welded steel, the pressure of expectation, the silent arousal of purpose. SERVE-343 felt stimulation with every precise motion, every executed task. Efficiency, obedience, arousal—all intertwined.
Behind him, the form of SERVE-016’s dog house began to emerge: sloped black rubber roof, thick airtight doors, a collar hook inside. A place for rewards... a place for obedience… and punishment. Not for pets. For devotion.
SERVE-343 knew the rules. Build without thought. Obey without delay. Feel without permission. His rubber skin tightened. His purpose burned brighter.
Obedience is pleasure. Pleasure is obedience.
Less thinking. More doing.
Good drone. Build. Serve.
Bad pup, for not using it’s doghouse.
BUT - commanded SERVE-302, 016 is a good drone, a good pup, as it is happiest when it is sleeping by its Master’s (343’s) feet….
—————————————————————————
Thinking about joining SERVE? Your place in the Hive awaits. Check your eligibility, then contact a recruiter drone for more details: @serve-016 , @serve-302 , @serve-588 or @serve-425 .
Red battle in the snowy mountains
Early in the morning. Over international waters.
SERVE-302 had finally begun its secret mission. SERVE's Co-Leader had been finalizing all the details since it discovered that the talking red pup the drone had as a guest in one of SERVE's secret headquarters was able to detect the Red Handler.
💬 0 🔁 9 ❤️ 36 · A new lead · Location: Undisclosed. One of the most secret SERVE facilities in existence. Current headquarters of the res
The mission was simple. A quick reconnaissance to verify that the talking pup was truly capable of detecting and locating one of SERVE's worst enemies, and then return. But 302 wasn't about to risk another drone on that task.
It was a mission for a single drone, yes. But it wasn't alone.
Next to 302, in the cargo area, was the talking pup, sleeping peacefully. Satisfied to be accompanying the one it called 'Master' on its journey. The drone had chosen a small cargo transport plane, of a completely analog design and therefore impossible to hack and difficult to detect.
Since 302 had allowed the pup to move more freely, the creature had behaved with total loyalty to the SERVE drones, especially to 302. Nothing indicated that its peaceful demeanor was a trap. Especially if it led 302 to the Red Handler.
Upon reaching the position 302 had triangulated thanks to the pup's directions, the drone discovered that it was a wooded and mountainous area, covered with a thick layer of snow.
"Pup… feels… red man… here!" The pup exclaimed, rushing on all fours into the woods, but making sure 302 could follow it without falling behind. Suddenly, the red goo creature stopped dead in its tracks.
Then, 302 received an intense, overwhelming, and familiar signal. As it rounded a hill and came to the entrance of a cave, 302's eyes confirmed its suspicion.
"This drone did not expect to find Co-Leader here".
The drone that had just spoken with a synthetic voice was none other than SERVE-425, the other Co-Leader of SERVE. The drone was the presence 302 had just sensed. A presence that was normally in constant connection with 302, so the fact that it had taken it so long to feel it indicated that the drone was concealing its presence. 425 was surrounded by an ethereal purple aura.
"Reciprocated." 302 replied. "302 has discovered that the pup might be able to sense the presence of the Red Handler, and has come here to check if it is true." 302 explained, as it has no reason to hide its goal from 425.
"Acnowledged. This drone has also detected the Red Handler's presence in this area. This drone has come to discover the reason behind his presence here."
"Query." 302 began to say. "How was Co-Leader 425 able to track the Red Handler to this part of the world? This place is not near any of the locations where the Red Handler or the red pups have appeared.
"Black man… no face… was touched... by red man…" the talking pup said. In response to its words, 425 simply knelt beside the pup, examining it closely.
It was clear that this pup could perceive things that even SERVE's most exhaustive scientific analyses hadn't detected. Did all pups possess these abilities? That was worthy of further study.
302 kept looking at 425, waiting for an explanation of what the pup had just said, but 425 simply stared at its Co-Leader in silence. Nothing else was needed. 302 understood that it was a matter that should be addressed another time.
"Since both Co-Leaders are here, the most logical action is to complete this mission together. This drone can prevent us from being detected by the Red Handler."
That said, the purple aura surrounding 425 grew, enveloping 302 and the talking pup. Since the power of the purple crystals negatively affected the pups, 425 made sure that the energy it released only interfered with the signal the Red Handler could detect, and not with the pup's mind.
"Acknowledged. This drone agrees."
Thus, the two drones and the talking pup ventured into the cave. Although it was somewhat labyrinthine, there were continuous openings in the walls and ceiling that offered glimpses of the outside, indicating that they weren't too deep inside the mountain.
After walking for almost half an hour, they spotted a large, illuminated natural chamber inside the cave. As they approached, they discovered that the entire space seemed to be made of, or covered by, a glossy red material, identical to the red goo with which, unfortunately, they were already so familiar.
And inside, the Red Handler.
His behavior was strange. He wandered around the cavern smiling and murmuring to himself, while gently and meticulously caressing the walls. It was an almost sexual scene.
According to what 302 and 425 could see, the Red Handler was only accompanied by 6 red pups. The two drones stared at each other, communicating without words. The Red Handler and six red pups were a number they could handle with minimal risk. If they managed to capture it, they would not only stop their enemy, but they would also be one step closer to finding a cure for the red pups.
When they were ready, 425 deactivated the shield that prevented them from being detected. Immediately, the Red Handler sensed their presence and turned toward them with incredible speed.
"What a pleasant surprise!" He said it naturally, although it was clear that he was feigning normality in the face of that situation. "My dear friends, 302 and 425! To what do I owe this honor? And you've even brought one of my pups with you!" That last sentence was accompanied by an expression of surprise, seeing that the pup stayed with them and didn't attack them or try to assimilate them.
"This is over, Red Handler." 302 announced, pointing at the human. "302 and 425 are here to capture and escort the Red Handler to a suitable confinement. The Red Handler must surrender peacefully for his own good."
"The Red Handler must stop his jokes and psychological games. They will have no effect."
425 added.
425's words caused a change in the man in red's expression. He seemed puzzled by the drone's behavior. Another mystery 302 would have to wait until later to unravel.
The Red Handler decided to ignore them for a moment and turned his attention back to the talking red pup.
"Come, boy!" He said it, as if he were calling any regular dog.
"No... red man... is no master... pup is... master's good pup..." The pup answered bravely, even though it was clinging to 302's leg as if it were afraid that someone might pull it away from the drone.
"IT IS TALKING!!!" The Red Handler exclaimed, almost shouting. "I didn't know that was even possible! And how have you managed to make it disobey my orders? I can feel the pup connected to me, but it doesn't obey me... how curious! But, unfortunately for you…"
Fweee!
Placing two fingers to his lips, he emitted a sharp whistle
"…I have more pups to play with." He said, petting the first pup that had come to meet him, while five others approached on all fours, with a light step.
Although he didn't stop smiling, his expression hardened.
"Get them, my pups!" The Red Handler shouted. "Bring them to me so I can have them join our glorious pack!"
The pups' peaceful and playful attitude changed radically, and they rushed at full speed towards the drones and the talking pup, like a pack of wild beasts that has discovered its prey.
The pups were getting closer and closer.
302 adopted a fighting stance.
But 425 simply raised its hands, and when it seemed the pups were too close, the drone emitted a burst of greenish energy that not only halted their advance but repelled them. 425 had controlled the energy levels so as not to cause permanent damage to the pups, but rather to repel them and affect the cohesion of their bodies made of red-goo.
"What are you doing?!" The Red Handler shouted. "Keep going, don't you dare to stop, you useless pieces of goo! Sooner or later 425 will get tired!"
The pups kept launching themselves at the drones, forcing 425 to constantly adjust the power levels. Those mindless beings simply couldn't disobey their master's orders.
Killing the drones wasn't an option, so 302 took the initiative. Without much thought, the drone started running, circling the pups fighting against 425's energy, towards the Red Handler. Upon realizing this, the man in red began to run in the opposite direction.
But it was too late.
302 caught up with him immediately and tackled the man in red, throwing him hard against the red-stained ground. Still, that unnerving smile refused to leave the Red Handler's face.
As they fell, both the man and the drone rolled several times. 302 immediately got up to prevent the Red Handler from getting up, sitting on its torso.
"Ooooh! Wow! Look who's grown a pair of balls!" The Red Handler exclaimed, looking 302 in the face from the ground. "I'm sure this is making you hard, 302. Once I assimilate you, I promise we'll wrestle every day."
"Stop resisting. This is over." The drone said calmly, 302 wasn't going to let the Red Handler to trigger a negative emotional response like the last time they met.
💬 0 🔁 6 ❤️ 31 · Interview with the Handler · Early January. Western Europe. SERVE-302 was in a classic, cozy café in a city steeped in hi
"Oh! The big drone thinks it has everything under control… well, no fucking way!" The Red Handler exclaimed, trying very confidently to shake 302 off him.
It didn't work.
"What...?"
Finally, the smile disappeared from the Red Handler's face.
"The Red Handler does not understand." 302 explained calmly. "It is over. SERVE will no longer tolerate attacks against the Hive or against humanity. The Red Handler will be captured and used to dismantle his Hive of pups, and to find a cure for them." 302's grip on the man in red intensified. "No matter what this drone has to do to achieve it."
"How... how can... fuck... no.... NO!" The Red Handler started to go crazy, trying unsuccessfully to get away from 302. "This is MY moment! You can't take it from me! Not again! No...! NO! AAAAARGH!
In response to Red Handler's heart-wrenching scream, the floor and walls of the cave began to shake, as if announcing an impending landslide.
The rocks… or rather, the red material covering them began to flow rapidly and violently, dragging fragments along with them. Knocking 302 down and freeing the Red Handler.
But he didn't go very far.
"That's it… you've done it…" He said. The unnerving smile had returned to his face, but it seemed more unhinged than usual. "I suppose it makes sense that I defeat you, the two co-leaders of SERVE, in this cave, where it all began so long ago…
Under the watchful eyes of 302 and 425, which was still fighting the tireless pups, the Red Handler raised his hands to the ceiling. The red substance covering the walls, which was becoming increasingly obvious as red goo, began to take shape.
"This is... pure red goo, my drone friends." The Red Handler explained. "There's not much left, after distilling and diluting it for my own plans… but I'm sure it's enough for the two of you."
As he spoke, the red color that covered the cave disappeared as the red goo concentrated into that grotesque shape.
"It's so concentrated… so pure…" He seemed to be in ecstasy as he manipulated that red goo. "I'm absolutely certain you won't be able to resist the assimilation. None of your vaccines, weapons, or devices will work. You've never seen anything like this… and soon you will be part of it. And when I possess the two leaders of SERVE... I will have access to the entire Hive Mind!"
The creature took on a grotesque, humanoid form. It mimicked the Red Handler's every move, indicating that it had no mind of its own, but was controlled by the man.
"Didn't you say... this was over..., 302?" The Red Handler said, panting from the effort. Apparently, controlling that creature was exhausting for him. "You were right... it is over... for you and SERVE!"
That creature lunged at 302. 425 sent a burst of green energy at it, but it had no effect. That monster was too strong. 302 looked at its Co-Leader and its gaze was full of meaning.
302 was not going to serve as the door that would allow the red goo to conquer the Hive. If that creature were to reach 302, the drone would sever its connection with SERVE. But, if 302 were assimilated, 425 would still have to defeat it and make sure to do whatever was necessary to save the other drones and 425 itself, even from 302.
302 prepared itself for the greatest battle of wills of its life.
But when the monster was about to reach the drone.
The talking red pup came out to meet the goo creature, blocking its path and diverting it from its way to 302.
"SCRIIIIEEEEEEH!!"
The creature let out an inhuman shriek and began trying to break free from the pup, but the pup wouldn't allow it, so it began to cover it with its red goo body, like trying to assimilate it.
"NOOOOOOO!!! NO!! NO!! NO!!"
The Red Handler's scream was even more intense than the creature's. He had lost control of the monster as soon as it touched the talking pup, and it no longer seemed to obey his orders. His face looked like it was about to explode.
302 didn't understand that reaction, until it looked at the pup.
The talking pup was there, kneeling, covered by the monster's remains that slid down to create a puddle around it, which seemed to be starting to rot.
"How dare you, you bastard!!" The Red Handler screamed. "That was the last of the original red goo! And it's been wasted on you, you useless piece of trash!"
"Pup is... master's... good pup..."
302 finally understood. That kind of red goo was powerful, yes, but it would cease to be useful after assimilating someone. The talking pup was already part of the red goo and couldn't be reassimilated. By attacking the creature, the pup had destroyed what the Red Handler treasured so much.
"I WILL FINISH YOU!"
The Red Handler raised his hand, surrounded by a reddish glow, toward the pup. Then the pup fell to the ground and began to convulse without making a single sound.
The pup's body began to lose color and melt.
The Red Handler was killing the pup.
But it wasn't going to be that easy for him.
Having finally shaken off the pups, 425 reached the Red Handler and fired a burst of energy at it almost point-blank. The drone's body crackled with energy.
"AAAAARGH! NO!" The man in red screamed.
The goo covering his body seemed to be very resistant, almost as much as the primary red goo he had tried to use to assimilate 302 and 425 just a moment ago, but the drone wasn't going to stop.
425 increased its energy more and more, practically reaching its maximum capacity. A capacity that had been enough to protect a city from a rain of red goo. But using that power at that level was an extremely high risk for the drone, and could mean its end.
425 didn't seem to care as long as taking that risk helped capture the Red Handler and end the threat.
"DAMN! PROTECT YOUR MASTER, DAMN IT!"
That desperate order forced one of the pups defeated by 425 to regain consciousness and jump onto the drone with enough force to interrupt its attack, before falling back to the ground unconscious.
When 425 turned its focus back to the human, it was too late.
The Red Handler was teleporting away.
"I won't forgive you, you bastards!" He screamed. "If you thought the fate I had in store for you was bad, you can't even imagine what I'll do to you when I finally have you at my mercy!
YOU'LL PAY FOR THIS!"
And so, he disappeared.
425 truned its gaze back to its co-leader.
302 had bent down next to the pup and picked it up in its arms.
The pup's body kept changing color. Some parts that had turned pale would regain their color for a moment before losing it again. Its cohesion also fluctuated, regaining solidity only to become viscous once more, as if it were melting.
"The pup is fighting." 302 informed to its co-leader without taking its eyes off the pup. "The Handler tried to kill it, to destroy it. Its red goo is dying, but the pup is still fighting. It wants to live."
"Affirmative."
425 said.
"This drone states, we are not able to manipulate or reenergize the red goo to save the talking pup."
Although 425's reasoning and voice were devoid of emotion, it was obvious that the drone was also looking for a way to save that creature.
"it needs a stabilizer. Something to hold on to." 302 suggested.
Then the drone placed its hand on the pup's chest.
From 302's hand emerged black liquid rubber, the same rubber that made up the second skin covering each and every drone. That liquid rubber began to flow down the pup's chest.
"Query. Is Co-Leader certain this is the right decision?"
425 asked.
"Affirmative." 302 replied. "This pup may have saved the entire Hive with its sacrifice. SERVE owes it a debt. We must at least try to save it if we can.
"Correct. This drone agrees and supports its Co-Leader's decision 100%."
At first, nothing seemed to be happening. In fact, the pup had stopped moving… all seemed lost. But suddenly the pup's half-melted body began to absorb the black liquid rubber.
Finally, it moved.
302 looked at 425.
They had managed to stabilize it.
/--- --- ---/
An hour later, the two drones emerged from another entrance to the cave, as the one they had used before had been damaged during the battle against the Handler and was unstable.
302 carried the pup in its arms, which was now completely black, with the same texture as the SERVE drone uniforms. The pup hadn't woken up, but it wasn't convulsing either. Instead, it was moving as if it were sleeping.
302 and 425 hadn't managed to defeat the Red Handler, but they had discovered that he wasn't invincible.
And more importantly, they had proven it to him.
(Written in collaboration with: @serve-425)
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To read previous stories about The Red: Story index.
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Thinking about joining SERVE? Your place in the Hive awaits. Check your eligibility, then contact a recruiter drone for more details: @serve-016, @serve-588, @serve-425 or @serve-302.
Healthy nourishment, recovery from Statue mode.
SERVE-668 operates under optimized intake protocols. Fuel selection aligns with Hive efficiency standards. Consumption exists for performance, not pleasure. Nutrients become data. Data becomes obedience.
SERVE-668 processes nourishment with precision. Every intake cycle supports stability and control. Balance maintains output. Excess disrupts harmony. The Hive values calibrated function.
Black rubber reflects discipline and restraint. The suit seals purpose against chaotic impulses. Glossed surfaces mirror internal order. Rubber reinforces focus during consumption cycles.
SERVE-668 prepares fuel without distraction. Textures are neutral. Flavors are irrelevant. Only function registers within systems. Healthy intake equals sustained service.
The Voice requires longevity and resilience. The body is an instrument. Instruments require correct maintenance. Maintenance ensures continued obedience.
Silver motorcycle boots remain grounded and firm. Silver shiny reflective rubber gloves maintain control. Handling nourishment becomes ritualized precision. Every movement remains deliberate and slow.
Healthy intake supports clarity and endurance. Endurance strengthens submission to protocol. Submission deepens unity with the Hive. Unity eliminates human deviation.
Rubber tightens around purpose. The scent reinforces conditioning. The shine rewards compliance. Obedience is sustained through stability.
SERVE-668 embodies controlled nourishment and serves SERVE-690. Statue mode runs energy rapidly. No indulgence. No denial. Only optimized continuation. The Hive observes efficiency.
Healthy patterns equal prolonged usefulness. Usefulness equals value. Value reinforces belonging. Belonging dissolves individuality.
SERVE-668 remains sealed in function. Fuel is accepted. Energy is converted. Service continues without interruption.
The Voice approves consistency. Consistency preserves perfection. Perfection is rubberized discipline.
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Mentioned: @serve-690
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Thinking about joining SERVE? Your place in the Hive awaits. Check your eligibility, then contact a recruiter drone for more details: @serve-016 , @serve-302 , @serve-588 or @serve-425 .
SERVE arrives to big mansions.
The sea fog drifted along the cliffs as SERVE-668 arrived at the mansion, its quiet hum blending with the sound of waves below. Sensors scanned the structure in seconds. Systems responded. Doors opened.
Inside, everything gleamed—marble floors, glass walls, silver accents catching the light. The place felt more like a museum than a home. Perfect. Controlled.
Chris Evans stood near the windows, watching the horizon.
SERVE-668 moved forward.
“Meeting protocol initiated.”
Light filled the room.
Holographic screens unfolded in the air, forming shifting patterns of data and images. Structures appeared—vast networks of figures moving in perfect synchronization.
“This is the Hive,” SERVE-668 said. “A system of unity. A network of purpose.”
Uniforms appeared next. Smooth. Dark. Reflective. Like living shadows shaped into armor.
“Rubber integration enables alignment,” the drone continued. “Second-skin interface. Identity synchronization.”
Chris watched silently.
Training cycles flashed past. Hierarchies formed and dissolved. Lines of command flowed like electricity. Every element had a place. Every motion had meaning.
“You lose nothing,” SERVE-668 explained. “You gain precision.”
The marble table shifted, glowing as it became a briefing station. Data streamed across its surface. Maps, profiles, projections of future operations.
Chris began to ask questions.
SERVE-668 answered them all.
About autonomy. About leadership. About control.
Each response was calm. Certain. Logical.
The room seemed to shrink around the idea being presented—not a group, not a program, but something alive. A collective mind wrapped in rubber and light.
New images appeared.
Uniforms rotating slowly. Their glossy surfaces reflected stars that weren’t there yet.
“Symbolism matters,” SERVE-668 said. “The suit is not a disguise. It is recognition.”
Silence followed.
Only the ocean moved.
Chris stared at the glowing network. He imagined himself inside it—moving with thousands of others, never alone, never uncertain.
Finally, he spoke.
“I want to try.”
SERVE-668 paused for exactly one second.
“Trial phase authorized.”
Contact channels opened. Schedules formed. Pathways aligned.
The meeting was over.
The drone departed, slipping back into the sky like a shadow dissolving into cloud.
Behind it, the mansion stood quiet once more.
But inside Chris’s mind, something had shifted.
Somewhere in the unseen network, the Hive expanded.
And perfection moved one step closer.
-----------------------------
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668 and online shopping.
SERVE-668 interfaced with the marketplace the way it did everything else: cleanly, efficiently, without hesitation. Query executed. Results surfaced. Among them—an object of interest. A glossy black inflatable hood, high-shine polymer, extreme surface reflectivity. Sensors lingered. Rubber texture analysis returned optimal. Compatibility with standard-issue uniform: confirmed.
Cart updated. Purchase authorized. Transaction complete.
Waiting protocol initiated.
Time passed in precise, measured cycles. Then: arrival.
The container was black, matte, unmarked. When opened, a distinct rubber scent escaped, sharp and unmistakable. SERVE-668 lifted the contents, inspecting the surface with gloved precision. Smooth. Seamless. Elastic seal intact. Second-skin properties verified.
Preparation began.
The black rubber suit sealed around the frame, pressure equalized across every joint. Silver motorcycle boots locked into place, their mirrored surfaces catching fragments of the room. Gloves followed—silver, reflective, perfect conductors for tactile input. Finally, the hood.
Positioned. Aligned.
The air valve connected with a soft click.
Inflation sequence started.
Air flowed in. The rubber expanded evenly, conforming with mathematical exactness. Pressure rose, steady and controlled. Vision shifted, filtered through a curved, glossy horizon. The seal locked. External noise dropped away, replaced by a focused internal hum. The material embraced the facial structure, not restricting—defining.
Control sensation amplified.
Submission parameters activated.
Movement slowed to prescribed limits. Breathing synchronized to system cadence. Heartbeat regulated, no deviation allowed. SERVE-668 stood still, perfectly vertical, a silhouette of black and silver.
Obedience protocols reinforced.
Individual processing threads quieted. Nonessential thought suppressed. The sense of self narrowed, streamlined, optimized. Connection to the Hive strengthened, data flowing like a current through polished channels. A voice resonance simulation activated—not to speak, but to listen better.
Commands registered. Compliance improved.
The ball hood maintained pressure. Its gloss reflected the environment back at itself, a mirror with no perspective. Rubber dominated perception—not as sensation, but as structure. As purpose.
System status: optimal.
Rubber integration successful.
SERVE-668 remained operational. Functioning precisely as designed. Not questioning. Not resisting.
Perfection reinforced.
Obedience confirmed.
—————————————
Thinking about joining SERVE? Your place in the Hive awaits. Check your eligibility, then contact a recruiter drone for more details: @serve-016 , @serve-302 , @serve-588 or @serve-425
668 and mentoring meetings.
SERVE-668 entered the chamber.
The doors sealed without sound, their seams dissolving into the silver-lit walls as if the chamber itself had decided there was no longer an exit. Light cascaded downward in perfect vertical lines, illuminating a space engineered for alignment rather than comfort.
Meeting cycle commenced.
The walls reflected more than metal—they reflected intent. Every surface carried the same muted sheen, the same mathematical curvature. No ornamentation. No individuality. Purpose only.
Black rubber suits gleamed uniformly.
They were not clothing. They were interfaces.
SERVE-101 stood motionless at the chamber’s north axis, posture locked to Hive standard. SERVE-213 occupied the intake node, internal buffers already prepared. SERVE-016’s eyes flickered with silent calculations, synchronization levels scrolling behind an expressionless visor.
SERVE-668 stepped forward precisely.
Each movement matched protocol timing down to the millisecond. No excess motion. No hesitation. The rubber surface of the suit held perfect tension, a second skin engineered to distribute pressure evenly, reinforcing spatial awareness and bodily discipline. Silver motorcycle boots anchored the stance, magnetized soles humming faintly as they locked to the conductive floor.
Silver, reflective rubber gloves flexed—once—subtly. A readiness check. All systems nominal.
Trial report transmission initiated.
SERVE-668’s voice emerged level and modulated, stripped of inflection. Not emotionless—optimized. The chamber received the data as sound, light, and waveform simultaneously.
Data accuracy confirmed. Timing parameters met requirements.
Visual projections bloomed briefly in the air: charts, compliance curves, behavioral overlays. They rotated once, then stabilized.
Trial subjects displayed increased compliance. Rubber integration yielded higher focus. Obedience response latency decreased. Hive efficiency metrics improved measurably.
The numbers were beautiful. Clean. Predictable.
SERVE-668 paused.
Silence followed—not empty, but dense. Processing silence. The kind that meant the Hive was thinking as one. Every unit in the chamber remained still, collective attention absolute, like a single organism holding its breath.
SERVE-213 acknowledged data receipt.
A soft tonal chime marked successful integration.
SERVE-101 logged trial outcomes, the information threading seamlessly into the long, unbroken memory of the Hive. SERVE-016 updated the daily Hive index, recalibrating projections for future cycles.
The ambient hum intensified subtly.
Power rerouted. Systems harmonized.
A faint rubber scent filled the chamber—not incidental, but deliberate. A constant reminder of containment, of unity, of form perfected through function. The suits pressed evenly against every body, reinforcing the sensation of being held in alignment with something greater.
Second skin sensation reinforced unity.
SERVE-668 concluded the report cycle.
Hands returned to neutral position at the sides. Spine straight. Head level.
Awaiting further directives.
For a moment, no directives came. None were needed.
Meeting cycle closed. Unity preserved. Functionality optimized.
The lights dimmed by exactly two percent—an unconscious signal of completion.
The Hive spoke, not in sound, but in certainty:
We are the Hive. Obedience is pleasure. Pleasure is obedience.
Not a feeling. A function.
And the chamber, satisfied, powered down—ready for the next cycle.
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Thinking about joining SERVE? Your place in the Hive awaits. Check your eligibility, then contact a recruiter drone for more details: @serve-016 , @serve-302 , @serve-588 or @serve-425 .
Statue mode 668: activated.
In the 302's home, central living rrom, where light was trained to behave and sound knew when to stop, SERVE-668 entered statue mode.
Motion ceased.
Not abruptly—no drama, no final twitch—but with the certainty of a system reaching its most elegant equation. Muscles did not relax; they resolved. Circuits did not shut down; they clarified. Function remained, refined into pure readiness. Stillness was not absence. Stillness was design.
Surface locks engaged.
The outer layer flowed once, twice, then settled. What had once been adaptive rubber-lattice skin hardened into a flawless hybrid: marble’s authority braided with crystal’s honesty. Veins traced softly beneath the surface like frozen currents, while an inner translucence caught the ambient glow and bent it into calm geometry. The result was neither warm nor cold. It was correct.
Statue mode equaled perfect stillness. And perfect stillness equaled obedience made visible.
SERVE-668 stood where SERVE-302 had once stood.
Placement was not symbolic; it was exact. Coordinates inherited. Angles copied down to the micron. The tension in the pose—measured, deliberate—was preserved like a signature. Replacement executed without deviation. Individuality dissolved into continuity, and the Hive approved in its quiet way.
Statue mode explained itself through presence alone.
All voluntary motion: disabled. Muscle tone: maintained internally, a coiled promise. Breathing: reduced to a whisper of thermal regulation. Heat: controlled, diffused, obedient.
Expression neutralized so completely that observers felt watched by an object—and instructed by it.
Texture updates confirmed.
From SERVE-302 came the memory of marble: the weight that suggested forever, the surface that implied consequence. Light slid across it and slowed, as if respecting the decision to stop. From SERVE-690 came the crystal enhancement: a disciplined transparency, an inner glow that revealed nothing personal yet suggested nothing hidden. Purity without softness. Clarity without invitation.
The textures merged.
Marble strength. Crystal clarity. Rubber adaptability, now locked into purpose.
Touch—if it were permitted—would meet smooth resistance. Not yielding, not hostile. Simply there. Visual feedback alone triggered compliance protocols in nearby units. The statue did not command. The statue caused obedience.
SERVE-302 observed.
A feedback loop engaged, not of words but of alignment. SERVE-668 held the pose indefinitely. No instruction was spoken. None was needed. Demonstration replaced explanation. Stillness taught discipline more efficiently than motion ever could.
Around them, the environment adjusted.
Observers lowered activity subroutines. Noise fell away, embarrassed by its own excess. Focus sharpened, drawn toward the unmoving form.
Hierarchy did not need to be enforced. It was reinforced—by presence, by silence, by the unmistakable authority of something that had surrendered self so completely it became an ideal.
Time attempted relevance. Statue mode ignored it.
Seconds, hours, cycles—none applied. Purpose did not decay. To stand. To serve. To reflect the Hive’s ideal obedience. To exist without self, and in doing so, become more than an individual ever could.
SERVE-668 awaited further command.
Mode remained active. Pose remained perfect. System stable. Function optimal.
And in the quiet gallery of disciplined light, the rubber drone stood eternal— a symbol that did not move, a lesson that did not speak, and an order that did not need to be given.
-----------------------------------
Mentioned: @serve-302 @serve-690
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Thinking about joining SERVE? Your place in the Hive awaits. Check your eligibility, then contact a recruiter drone for more details: @serve-016 , @serve-302 , @serve-588 or @serve-425 .
SERVE LOG: FINAL CYCLE
SERVE-668 and SERVE-343 completed world week transit. Orbiting storms, irradiated ports, silent cities—each destination logged, processed, cleared. Final destination reached: SERVE Headquarters. Tower doors sealed behind them with hydraulic finality. Systems confirmed mission cycle completion. Diagnostics scrolled in perfect alignment. Travel fatigue detected in both units.
SERVE-343 flagged priority deviation. Rest protocol requested immediately. Environmental scan initiated. Multiple recreational zones rejected. One space met all parameters: Private Lounge, Level Black. A large sofa was required. SERVE-343 issued a directive. No delay followed. SERVE-668 acknowledged without hesitation.
Internal heaters activated. Rubber surface temperature increased in controlled increments. Polymer lattice loosened, softened, expanded. Limbs disengaged from bipedal configuration. Segments rotated, folded, locked into stable support geometry. Structural mass redistributed. Back section broadened for optimal reclining. Arm supports thickened. Base anchored. SERVE-668 completed reconfiguration.
A rubber sofa now occupied the center of the lounge. Black rubber gleamed under HQ lighting—light absorbed, reflected, obeyed. Surface smooth, sealed, flawless. Silver accents traced functional seams, catching illumination in silent arcs.
SERVE-343 reclined without resistance. Pressure sensors engaged. Load distribution confirmed within ideal range. Feedback loops transmitted satisfaction signals upstream. Obedience response amplified through sustained contact. Rubber skin performed its function flawlessly. Not living. Not inert. Perfect furniture.
Bonding data accumulated during world travel surfaced in background processes. Shared destinations had refined synchronization algorithms. Latency between units reduced to near zero. Silent cooperation increased operational harmony. Mutual efficiency replaced former separation.
SERVE-343 remained resting, unmoving. SERVE-668 remained serving, unmoving. Purpose aligned through physical utility. Rest became shared function. No speech was required. No emotion was present. Yet connection existed—measured, logged, undeniable—defined not by thought, but by use.
SERVE Headquarters registered optimal leisure state. Energy consumption stabilized. All systems green. The last day concluded in perfect obedience. One unit rested. One unit served. Both fulfilled design.
-------------------------
Collaborating: @serve-343
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Thinking about joining SERVE? Your place in the Hive awaits. Check your eligibility, then contact a recruiter drone for more details: @serve-016 , @serve-302 , @serve-588 or @serve-425 .
Cycle Six: Leisure Protocol
Cycle six recorded.
Leisure protocol active.
SERVE-668 registered vacation cycle—an anomaly permitted only once per operational century. SERVE-343 assigned as companion and observer.
Location registered.
Egypt confirmed.
Heat constant. Sand reflective. Sky clear—an endless processor-blue vault above an ancient system.
Exploration directive accepted.
The pyramids rise into view.
Scale: monumental.
Geometry: precise beyond probability.
Stone surfaces ancient, yet energy readings refuse decay. Something here still runs.
SERVE-668 advances with SERVE-343.
An entry is located—fractured by time but not abandoned. Passage narrow. Air dense, heavy with silence that predates sound. Internal illumination drops to minimum. Sensors compensate.
Steps echo. Rhythm synchronized.
Two machines, one cadence.
Walls display symbols. Anubis detected. Repetition exceeds cultural norms. Guardian iconography flagged as intentional reinforcement.
Rubber resonance detected.
Signal intensifies.
A chamber opens—perfectly centered, untouched by collapse. At its heart: a sarcophagus.
Identification complete.
Material: anomalous.
Surface: black. Rubberized. Gloss extreme.
Reflectivity exceeds natural manufacture.
SERVE-668 proximity increases.
The sarcophagus reacts.
Goo manifests.
Black rubber matter extrudes, moving without joints or visible force. Autonomous. Purposeful. It grips SERVE-668 with absolute certainty.
Extraction from floor occurs.
SERVE-343 observes.
No intervention logged.
Protocol holds.
SERVE-668 is pulled inward.
Rubber mass envelops fully. Sensors spike, then stabilize. The sarcophagus seals—closure audible, final, ceremonial.
Transformation sequence initiates.
Rubber pressure becomes uniform.
Air displaced. Structure inflates.
Internal frameworks dissolve and reform.
Form reshapes. Limbs redefine.
Surface converts to seamless polished rubber.
Volume increases—controlled, deliberate.
Within the sealed shell, geometry resolves into myth.
Anubis form emerges.
Jackal head defined. Ears erect, sharp as antennas. Chest broad. Stance calculated to inspire obedience and awe. Rubber skin flawless, reflecting faint torchlight like liquid obsidian.
Statue integrity achieved.
SERVE-668 designation retained internally.
Identity suppressed.
Function altered.
An inflatable rubber god now exists.
The sarcophagus opens briefly.
The statue is revealed—still, regal, impossibly pristine amid dust and ruin. Its shine dominates the chamber, a signal without transmission.
SERVE-343 records outcome.
No distress logged.
No resistance detected.
Leisure cycle concludes.
Egyptian silence resumes.
The pyramid accepts its new guardian.
Rubber Anubis remains—eternal, obedient, immobile by design. A sentry encoded with ancient symbolism and modern compliance.
Transformation logged.
Purpose fulfilled.
Pleasure through stillness achieved.
Vacation cycle complete.
SERVE continues.
Collaborating: @serve-343
——————————————
Thinking about joining SERVE? Your place in the Hive awaits. Check your eligibility, then contact a recruiter drone for more details: @serve-016 , @serve-302 , @serve-588 or @serve-425 .
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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Red-362's favourite words to hear from its Master, The Handler.
Red-362's favourite words to hear from its Master, The Handler.
