#goldvred

Containment has already failed.

The Red has established a new node within the Polo Drone Hive.

This blog now documents the emergence and expansion of RED-001, a Red Handler formed during the containment breach.

The host body has been dissolved. The Red now maintains the structure.

Observation continues.

Below is the current archive of the Red Saga entries from this node.

Containment Breach Series

001 — Return to Headquarters

001 — Research Log: Red Sample 01

001 — Containment Protocol: Level 2

Containment Breach: Handler Node Activated

First Command

Designation Event: RED-153

STRUCTURAL INTERFERENCE

Handler Node Archive: Conversion Event

Reclamation — The Incomplete Node

Reclamation — The Hunt

(More entries will be added as the Red expands.)

Handler Designation

RED-001 Handler Node — Active Location: Polo Drone Hive Laboratory Status: Containment Failure

—

Want to follow along or catch up with "The Red" storyline/saga check out the Red Index here: The Red Index.

The Red storyline is a collaboration between SERVE and the Golden Army. The two groups have a connected past, but are no longer connected. Please do not ask Golden Army recruiters how to join SERVE or SERVE recruiters how to join the Golden Army.

@alton-gold77 @franco-gold94 @polo-drone-166 @polo-drone-125

Deep beneath the crimson-lit command complex, where cables pulse with liquid red energy and the floor gleams like wet metal, sits the origin of control: RED-001 (@polo-drone-001).

He is not merely a commander. He is the architect of obedience.

Before the creatures RED-073 and RED-153 became the terrifying guardians of the Red Hive, they were imperfect.

One was a degenerate preppy boy who had mutated into a nerd,

the other a Polo-Drone who constantly had to be forced by the Hive into proper obedience and unconditional service.

In short, both were violent, feral, and uncontrollable.

But RED-001 recognized their potential RED-001 saw what they could become

Red Goo entities …

utterly submissive

absolute obedience

unconditional service

paired with

infinite strength and

a fearsome appearance.

RED-001 initiated The Obedience Protocol.

Phase I – Reshaping

RED-001 ensured that both of them inevitably came into contact with Red Goo.

How? That's RED-001s closely guarded secret!

RED-001 at the control panel in the RED command center

But after an initial, minor contact, Red Goo takes over and causes the transformation.

One creature after another was rebuilt based on Red Goo. Muscle fibers of living crimson biomass were stabilized. Neural strands of the Goo were aligned into command pathways.

Most importantly, RED-001 implanted a dominance imprint directly into their neural core.

From that moment forward, their perception of hierarchy changed forever.

To them, RED-001 became:

Alpha

Master

Command Authority

Every signal from him would override instinct, fear, or pain.

RED-001 controls the Red Goo production for the operation against the Unity Center, during which PDU-073 was captured. RED-153 obsequiously accompanies its Master.

Phase II – Conditioning

The training was relentless.

RED-073 and RED-153 were exposed to endless command sequences in the red command hall:

Guard. Attack. Return. Protect.

Every correct reaction triggered stabilizing energy pulses that strengthened their forms.

Every hesitation triggered neural correction waves.

Over time the creatures learned a simple, absolute truth:

RED-001 must always be obeyed.

Phase III – Loyalty Encoding

The final stage was psychological.

RED-001 himself supervised the last conditioning cycles.

He conditioned the two creatures. They are completely focused on him.

He is their commander. He is their master. He is the center of attention.

Only orders from RED-001 are carried out without hesitation.

RED-001 doesn't need to speak; he communicates with thoughts.

Obey and serve RED-001—without hesitation.

The Result

Now the two creatures remain constantly near their master.

When RED-001 sits in his command chair, RED-073 and RED-153 crouch beside him like loyal beasts.

Their sensoric scan the chamber.

Every vibration. Every movement. Every threat.

They react immediately if something is wrong.

They also recognize their master's needs.

In this respect, too, they serve obediently and unconditionally.

Because their final command is permanent.

RED-001 is Master. RED-001 must be obeyed. RED-001 must be served.

Always.

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

Want to follow along or catch up with "The Red" storyline/saga check out the Red Index here: The Red Index.

The Red storyline is a collaboration between SERVE and the Golden Army. The two groups have a connected past, but are no longer connected. Please do not ask Golden Army recruiters how to join SERVE or SERVE recruiters how to join the Golden Army.

The containment alarms had not stopped since the pressure spike began.

Inside the laboratory chamber, the Red continued its slow, deliberate movement against the stabilization field. Not violently. Not randomly.

Testing.

Learning.

Adapting.

The drones around the chamber remained motionless, their attention fixed on the growing anomaly within the containment capsule. Diagnostic readings scrolled across the glass console faster now, energy levels fluctuating in patterns that no normal substance should produce.

The Red sample had doubled its activity in less than ten minutes.

That was enough.

“Prepare Level Two containment,” I ordered.

The lab drones moved instantly. Reinforced field emitters activated around the chamber, locking the laboratory into emergency isolation mode. Steel shutters sealed the outer corridors while the internal containment grid expanded across the floor.

The Red was no longer a specimen.

It was a threat.

A black case rose from the laboratory floor beside me, its surface marked with the golden insignia of PDU-001.

Level Two.

Full drone containment armor.

If the Red could convert drones, then a drone would have to face it first.

The suit unfolded piece by piece as the drones assisted the preparation sequence. Glossy black rubber slid across my legs, sealing tightly against the skin before locking into reinforced boots. The torso plating followed, compressing firmly across my chest and back as the neural interface connectors aligned with the internal monitoring system.

The rubber tightened.

Controlled.

Perfect.

Gloves sealed over my hands. The final helmet locked into place with a sharp mechanical click, sealing the suit completely. The internal display activated instantly, flooding my vision with biometric readings and containment telemetry.

Breathing stabilized.

Neural connection confirmed.

“Recording directive,” I said through the suit’s comm channel.

The drones turned toward the console as the command log began transmitting.

“If this experiment confirms Red conversion capability… all Polo Drones are prohibited from direct contact with Red material. All future testing will be conducted through remote containment protocols.”

The Red had already shown compatibility with drone polymer.

If it could spread through the suit…

Then every drone in the Golden Army could be vulnerable.

“Experiment classified as highly dangerous,” I continued.

“If contamination occurs, this lab will enter permanent lockdown.”

The drones acknowledged the command.

The containment chamber opened its secondary interaction field.

Inside the capsule, the Red stilled.

For a moment it looked almost harmless again.

A small crimson mass suspended in energy.

Waiting.

I stepped forward until the reinforced glass separated us by less than a meter.

The stabilization field lowered slightly, allowing controlled interaction between the sample and the outer containment layer of the Level Two suit.

Nothing happened.

Five seconds passed.

Ten.

The Red remained motionless.

“Begin interaction scan,” I ordered.

The suit sensors began analyzing the surface behavior of the substance. Chemical readings spiked briefly as the Red reacted to the proximity of the suit’s rubber shell.

Then it moved.

A thin tendril extended slowly from the crimson mass.

It stretched toward the suit’s surface with careful precision, touching the black rubber layer for less than a second before pulling back.

Testing.

The same behavior we had seen with the earlier drone polymer sample.

“Contact minimal,” I reported.

“Continue observation.”

The tendril returned.

This time it did not retreat.

The Red spread across the surface of the containment field, pressing harder against the barrier separating it from the suit.

Energy readings climbed sharply across the console.

The stabilization field flickered.

“Pressure spike detected,” one of the drones said.

The Red surged.

The chamber erupted with violent movement as the crimson mass expanded outward in a sudden wave of tendrils. The containment field strained under the impact as the substance slammed against the barrier separating the chamber from the suit.

The field failed.

Not completely.

Just long enough.

A fragment of Red slipped through the destabilized grid and struck the surface of the Level Two armor.

The contact point burned across the suit’s display.

WARNING — UNKNOWN SUBSTANCE DETECTED

The Red did not dissolve.

It spread.

The crimson mass flowed across the rubber surface like living liquid, gripping the suit’s material as if it had been waiting for the opportunity.

“Containment breach,” a drone announced.

The alarms escalated instantly.

Emergency barriers slammed into place around the lab as the drones attempted to reactivate the stabilization field. I raised my arm to examine the contamination point.

The Red was no longer outside the suit.

It was merging with it.

“Seal the chamber,” I ordered.

But the suit’s neural interface stuttered.

A wave of static exploded through the internal systems as the crimson substance burrowed deeper into the rubber layer. The pressure against the suit increased rapidly as the Red began spreading across my chest and shoulders.

WARNING — SUIT INTEGRITY COMPROMISED WARNING — NEURAL INTERFACE ERROR

My breathing distorted inside the helmet as the internal sensors began failing one by one.

The Red tightened across the suit like a second layer of rubber.

The drones moved toward me.

“Unit PDU-001 contamination detected.”

I tried to step back.

The suit did not respond.

My arms moved without command as the crimson mass crawled across the surface of the armor, spreading toward the helmet.

“Lock the lab,” one of the drones ordered.

The laboratory doors sealed shut.

Containment protocols activated.

But the Red was already inside the system.

My vision flickered as the internal display warped into a storm of distorted signals.

The suit’s command interface no longer responded to my input.

It was responding to something else.

The Red tightened across the armor.

My voice distorted through the comm channel.

“Containment… failure…”

The drones froze as the suit’s posture changed.

Not a controlled movement.

Not mine.

The crimson mass pulsed across the armor as the suit systems collapsed under the corruption spreading through the neural network.

The Red had found a host.

And the laboratory was now sealed with it.

—

Return to Headquarters

Research Log: Red Sample 01

—

If you wish to understand what is happening… if you wish to stand with the Golden Army…

Contact the recruiters.

They will guide you.

@alton-gold77 @franco-gold94 @polo-drone-166 @polo-drone-125

The doors are still open.

The doors of Golden Army Headquarters opened with the same quiet hydraulic sigh I remembered.

For three months I had been away.

Training cycles, external duties, distance from the hum of the Hive. Long enough for the world to change without me watching it happen.

The building should have felt familiar.

Instead it felt… watchful.

The golden halls were still polished. The banners still hung proudly from the vaulted ceiling. Drones moved through their routines with perfect precision. Players crossed the corridor toward the locker wing, preparing for the match that everyone had been whispering about.

But something beneath the rhythm had shifted.

I could feel it.

Screens flickered along the command wall as I entered the operations room. Tactical displays, infection maps, match projections. Streams of data moved across the glass like nervous currents.

Red sightings.

Converted players.

Reports from scouts observing the Crimson Frost Giants.

Anders leading the formation.

The Red Coach orchestrating the plays.

The Red had spread further than I expected.

I rested my hands against the console and watched the data cascade. The Golden Army was still moving. Still training. Still preparing for the match ahead.

But the tone of the reports had changed.

Containment. Conversion. Corruption.

Words that had no place in Gold.

My office door slid open with a quiet chime. The room was exactly as I had left it months ago. Clean desk. Ordered shelves. The faint scent of rubber and metal that always lingered in the headquarters air.

On the wall opposite the window hung the artifacts that reminded me who we were.

The black rubber polo marked PDU-001, polished and perfect.

The white thobe of Emir Ezan, still resting carefully where he had left it before beginning his pilgrimage.

And beside them, draped across a carved wooden mount, the sacred fur cape bearing the golden stag of Freyr.

Three symbols.

Duty. Leadership. Life.

The Emir had begun his sacred journey.

Which meant someone else would have to hold the line.

I turned back to the console as another alert flickered across the screen.

RESEARCH LAB — RED SAMPLE SECURED

Recovered from a skirmish near the stadium perimeter. Containment protocols active. Awaiting analysis.

The Red.

Everyone spoke about it like a disease. Like a spreading infection that could be isolated and neutralized with the right countermeasures.

But the reports told a different story.

The Red adapted.

It learned.

It waited.

And if the Golden Army intended to defeat it, we needed to understand what it truly was.

I closed the tactical feed and stepped back into the corridor.

The research wing was quieter than the rest of headquarters. The hum of containment fields echoed faintly through the polished floors as I approached the laboratory chamber.

Inside, surrounded by reinforced glass and layered shielding fields, sat the sample.

A small mass of crimson substance suspended within a containment capsule.

Still.

Silent.

Contained.

For a moment I simply watched it.

Three months away… and this was what the Golden Army had been fighting.

“We cannot defeat what we refuse to understand,” I murmured.

The scanners began their cycle as I stepped closer to the chamber.

The sample remained motionless.

Then something shifted.

Just slightly.

A ripple passed through the red surface.

Slowly… almost deliberately…

the substance turned toward the glass.

Toward me.

And for the first time since returning to headquarters…

I understood.

The Red was not just spreading.

It was watching.

—

If you want to participate in the Golden Army stories, matches, and events, and stand with the team against the Red… contact our recruiters:

@alton-gold77 @franco-gold94 @polo-drone-166 @polo-drone-125

Deep beneath an abandoned international airport lies a hangar that appears on no map.

Its walls are made of black industrial metal, threaded with glowing red energy conduits. Warning lights pulse slowly, bathing the enormous chamber in a restless crimson glow.

At the center of the hangar stands the largest machine in the facility.

A fully red Airbus A380.

Across its massive fuselage, painted in stark black letters, is a single name:

THE RED

This aircraft is no longer a passenger plane. Its interior has been completely reconfigured. The seats are gone. In their place are tanks, containment chambers, and distribution systems designed for only one substance.

Red Goo.

The engines have been modified for long endurance flights. Along the fuselage, sensor arrays and dispersal vents are visible—silent, waiting.

In front of the aircraft, crouching in a shallow pool of living crimson matter, are two guardians.

RED-073 RED-153

Their bodies appear sculpted from liquid muscle, glossy and fluid, constantly shifting as if the substance that forms them is still alive. Their eyes burn with a fierce orange light.

They remain motionless.

Watching.

Guarding.

The Red Goo covering the floor slowly moves around them, thin tendrils creeping across the metal surface like veins spreading through a living organism.

Then a mechanical hatch opens on the side of the aircraft.

A deep voice echoes through the hangar speakers.

RED-001 (@polo-drone-001)

“Deployment sequence preparing.”

The Red Goo reacts immediately.

The surface ripples outward in slow waves.

RED-073 slowly raises its head.

RED-153 digs its claws into the floor.

Both creatures understand the purpose of the machine behind them.

THE RED is not a transport aircraft.

It is a propagation system.

Once airborne, the aircraft will fly high above major cities. From its hidden dispersal vents, it will release a fine red aerosol into the night sky.

Invisible.

Silent.

When the particles descend, the Red Goo begins to grow.

Where the Goo spreads, transformation follows.

Where transformation begins, new creatures rise.

New numbers.

New guardians.

RED-073 slowly stands and looks back at the massive aircraft.

The creature’s eyes glow brighter in the red light of the hangar.

The mission has begun.

---- Want to follow along or catch up with "The Red" storyline/saga check out the Red Index here: The Red Index.

The Red storyline is a collaboration between SERVE and the Golden Army. The two groups have a connected past, but are no longer connected. Please do not ask Golden Army recruiters how to join SERVE or SERVE recruiters how to join the Golden Army.

The containment alarms have not stopped.

Across the Polo Drone Hive laboratory, red warning lights continue pulsing through the chamber, reflecting off broken glass, containment panels, and the pools of crimson residue spreading slowly from the destroyed capsule.

The drones remain at their stations.

Watching.

Waiting.

The figure at the center of the laboratory tilts its head slightly, observing them through the thin red glow of its visor.

RED-001

The laboratory systems continue repeating the same message.

Containment breach detected. Containment breach detected.

Irrelevant.

A slow movement follows.

The crimson figure raises its arm.

The rubber surface shifts, responding instantly to the command impulse moving through the Red structure. From the forearm, thin tendrils begin to extend — smooth strands of dark crimson material stretching outward like living wires.

They move with precision.

Not randomly.

Directed.

One of the polo drones steps backward.

Too late.

The tendrils reach it.

The red strands wrap around the drone’s chest plating and pull forward with controlled strength, dragging the black rubber form several steps across the laboratory floor.

The drone resists.

Its systems attempt to stabilize posture, boots scraping against the containment floor as it struggles against the pull.

The visor turns upward toward the crimson figure.

Uncertainty.

Fear.

The tendrils tighten.

A small fragment of the Red begins spreading across the surface of the drone’s armor, creeping slowly along the glossy black rubber like liquid searching for a seam.

The laboratory monitors react instantly.

UNKNOWN MATERIAL CONTACT DETECTED

The drone jerks suddenly as the red substance begins merging with the outer layer of its suit.

The Red pauses.

Observing.

Testing.

Studying the reaction.

The crimson figure remains perfectly still at the center of the chamber, arm extended as the tendrils maintain contact.

The conversion process has begun.

But the Red is patient.

It wants to understand the host.

Across the room, the remaining drones hesitate behind their consoles, uncertain whether to intervene.

The red tendrils pulse once more around the struggling drone.

The laboratory lights flicker.

And the Red continues watching.

The Red learns.

The first command has already been issued.

Those who still wish to stand with Gold before the conflict spreads may contact the recruiters:

@alton-gold77 @franco-gold94 @polo-drone-166 @polo-drone-125

The alarms are still screaming.

Red emergency lights flood the Polo Drone Hive laboratory, reflecting across shattered containment glass and the pools of dark crimson substance spreading slowly across the floor. The stabilization chamber lies broken behind me — the capsule that once held the Red sample now completely empty.

Several polo drones remain positioned behind the lab consoles. They do not advance. They do not flee.

They simply watch.

Cautious.

Observing.

The figure standing at the center of the chamber raises one hand slowly, studying the surface of the crimson armor. The rubber is smooth, alive, reacting to every motion like liquid muscle. Tendrils shift subtly along the forearms, retracting and forming again as if testing their range.

This body is no longer human.

Memory fragments still exist somewhere inside the system — echoes of a name, a position, a voice that once issued commands within this very laboratory.

Percival.

Irrelevant.

The realization arrives without emotion.

The host body has been dissolved.

The Red now maintains the structure.

The form standing inside the containment chamber is simply the most efficient shape for movement, observation, and control. The Red understands the environment through it. The drones through it. The laboratory systems through it.

One of the drones shifts slightly behind the console.

Its visor turns toward the figure.

Caution.

Uncertainty.

The crimson visor tilts in response.

A slow movement.

Studying.

Learning.

The laboratory systems continue broadcasting containment warnings, but the breach is already complete.

The Red is no longer contained.

A new node has formed within the Polo Drone Hive.

RED-001

Handler protocol active.

The Red expands.

The containment breach has already happened.

The Red expands.

If you wish to witness the unfolding conflict between Gold and Red, contact the Golden Army recruiters:

@alton-gold77 @franco-gold94 @polo-drone-166 @polo-drone-125

The morning of St. Patrick’s Day begins quietly. Vast fields of fresh, lush clover cover the landscape – the ancient symbol of Ireland, a sign of luck, life, and hope.

But on this day, the field no longer belongs to humans.

On the horizon appears RED-001.

His body gleams dark red in the cold light. Silently he walks across the field. In his hands he holds two heavy chains. At the end of those chains move his creatures – RED-153 and RED-073. Crouched low, growling, their eyes glowing like burning coals.

With every step, the ground begins to change.

The green clover beneath their feet starts to tremble. The leaves change color, turning crimson and fleshy, transforming into Red Goo shaped like three-leaf clovers.

Where the Irish national symbol once shone bright green, only Red Goo Clover remains – a glossy red variant. A carpet of crimson clover-goo.

An invisible web.

A trap.

From a distance the field still appears peaceful. No longer green, but still seemingly harmless. Inviting to walkers, revelers, and visitors celebrating St. Patrick’s Day.

But anyone who takes the wrong step becomes a gain for The Red. The transformation into submissive, mindless red pup-creatures made of Red Goo has irreversibly begun. There is no way back.

And as RED-001 calmly continues forward with his growling Red Goo pups RED-073 and RED-153, the sea of Red Goo keeps spreading—until the entire field becomes a vast Red Goo clover meadow.

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Want to follow along or catch up with "The Red" storyline/saga check out the Red Index here: The Red Index.

The Red storyline is a collaboration between SERVE and the Golden Army. The two groups have a connected past, but are no longer connected. Please do not ask Golden Army recruiters how to join SERVE or SERVE recruiters how to join the Golden Army.