Lost in Gold Space
Wells found the blue box on a side street in the Golden City.
It was parked between a nutrition bar and a gymwear shop, sitting there like it had every right to exist among glowing gold signs, polished sidewalks, and Bros too busy flexing to notice the impossible.
PDU-767 stopped first.
“Object analysis: exterior resembles obsolete police communication box.”
PDU-090 tilted its head.
“Dimensional mismatch detected. Interior volume cannot match exterior shell.”
Wells looked at the box. Then at the drones. Then back at the box.
“So it’s weird.”
“Affirmative,” said PDU-767.
“Potential threat,” said PDU-090.
Wells grinned.
“Potential adventure.”
That was how they ended up inside.
The moment Wells stepped through the door, his jaw dropped. The room was impossible, it was much bigger on the inside. Huge. Warm-lit. Humming. A cathedral of cables, glass, metal, and time itself breathing through the walls.
PDU-767 went rigid.
“Interior dimensions violate physical law.”
PDU-090 moved toward the console.
“Correction attempt required.”
“No touching,” Wells said.
PDU-090 touched one lever.
The whole room lurched.
The box groaned like the universe had just cleared its throat.
Then the Golden City disappeared.
When the doors opened again, they were no longer anywhere close to home.
A black sky stretched above them. Stars burned cold and unfamiliar. Beneath their boots was pale dust, metallic stone, and a horizon split by a massive ringed planet hanging in the dark.
PDU-767 scanned the air.
“Atmosphere breathable. Gravity reduced. Location unknown. Time period unknown.”
PDU-090 added, “Return route unavailable.”
Wells stared at the alien landscape.
Then he stepped out.
“Can't hurt to explore a little drones” he said.
They moved across the moon in slow, careful strides. Wells led. PDU-767 tracked environmental readings. PDU-090 kept looking back at the blue box as if blaming it personally.
Then something appeared between two black rock formations.
A figure.
Tall. Human-shaped. Metallic.
Gold.
It stepped into the starlight, its body plated in polished gold armor, its eyes blank and bright. Black circuitry pulsed across its chest. Its face did not move when it spoke.
“IDENTIFY.”
PDU-767 froze.
PDU-090 answered automatically.
“PDU-090. Polo Drone Hive support unit.”
The golden figure turned its head.
“DRONE DESIGNATION DETECTED. UPGRADE REQUIRED.”
Wells frowned. “Yeah, no. Nobody’s upgrading anybody.”
The golden Cyberman took one heavy step forward.
“EMOTION IS INEFFICIENT. UNITY THROUGH CONVERSION.”
PDU-767’s voice flattened.
“Hostile assimilation protocol detected.”
PDU-090 stepped back.
“Recommendation: immediate withdrawal.”
Wells did not need to be told twice.
“Back to the box.”
The golden Cyberman advanced.
“YOU WILL BECOME OPTIMAL. WITHOUT UPGRADE, YOU WILL BE DELETED”
Wells grabbed PDU-090 by the shoulder strap and shoved him toward the TARDIS.
“Move, bro.”
They ran.
Low gravity made the sprint ridiculous: Wells bounded across the dust in huge uneven strides while both PDUs tried to maintain uniform formation and failed completely. Behind them, the golden Cyberman followed with slow, relentless certainty.
“YOU WILL BE UPGRADED.”
PDU-767 replied while running, “Negative. Current formatting approved by Management.”
They slammed into the TARDIS.
Wells pulled the doors shut.
The engines roared.
Gold light flashed through the windows.
Then silence.
The doors opened again onto the same Golden City street.
Wells stepped out first, chest heaving.
PDU-767 followed.
PDU-090 followed last and said, “Unauthorized space excursion complete. Report classification: never happened.”
A man in a brown pinstripe suit and long coat stood by the curb, hands in his pockets, eyebrows raised.
He looked at Wells.
He looked at the drones.
Then he looked at the blue box.
“Oh, brilliant,” he said. “I leave her alone for five minutes and she starts collecting bodybuilders and rubbery little soldiers.”
Wells opened his mouth.
The Doctor pointed at him.
“No. Don’t. I already know. You went inside, someone touched something, space happened, Cybermen happened, everyone ran.”
PDU-767 paused.
“Assessment accurate.”
“Usually is,” said the Doctor. He stepped toward the TARDIS, then glanced back. “Golden Cyberman, was it?”
Wells nodded.
The Doctor winced.
“Ugh. Hate when they get shiny. Makes them smug.”
He slipped inside the TARDIS.
The familiar groan filled the street.
Before the box vanished, the Doctor leaned out one last time.
“Next time you find a mysterious blue box, try knocking.”
Then he disappeared.
Wells stood there for a moment.
PDU-090 processed silently.
PDU-767 finally said, “Exploration successful.”
Wells smiled.
“Bro. We got lost in space and made it back, like we were never gone.”
Wells, PDU-767, and PDU-090 discovered space, danger, and why nobody should let PDU-090 near glowing levers. Join the Golden Army. Explore boldly. Resist unauthorized upgrades. Contact our recruiters: @alton-gold77, @polo-drone-125
Featuring: @polo-drone-767, @pdu-090
