#lvl2

Read the first part here.

Base PeakBetween Log: Day #4 Login: Franco Gold #94 Status update: Research continues. PDU-039 is absent for 2 day now.

The situation wasn’t really favourable. Since Franco’s initial capture, the Cyanus Collective doubled their efforts, trying to track down their hidden base. Luckily the two member of the Golden Army had moved the base deeper into the mountains, preventing the aliens from finding it directly.

However, the aliens tried everything. They set up traps in the woods, scattered cyan morphsuits across the forests and meadows, and Franco could feel their presence constantly. Morpheus had assured, that the three aliens woke up from his dream, and alerted the others about the unknown threat.

“At least they are afraid of you.” said 039, just before his disappearance.

They had done various researches on the old and on the newly acquired cyan suit.

Temperature resistance. Tearability and puncture resistance. Flexibility and wear resistance.

“If we could properly analyse the properties of these suits, we could learn more about the Cyanus Collective. About their physical appearance and how their powers work.” said 039.

Franco completely agreed. He focused on the morphsuit’s interaction with its environment, while 039 studied the extraordinary properties of the fabric itself.

They both had impressive results.

039 found that the suit was incredibly resistant to both tearing and puncturing. He observed that this was due to the fabric's structure. He theorised that as the shed skin contracted and compressed, it formed layers that formed elastic bonds between each other at a molecular level, making it indestructible.

He then managed to discover an angle at which the fabric could be easily pierced and cut with the right technique.

Meanwhile, Franco managed to observe strange things.

The suit emitted spores. These, mixed with the air, created an atmosphere that, according to Franco’s theory, made it easier to influence the wearer of the morphsuit.

In fact, they act as biological weapons on humans, slowly infecting and poisoning every single person. Franco noted in his experiment notebook.

Of course after that, the Influence of Gold present or not, they started to store the clothes in airtight containers.

After one day, Franco noticed, that the container’s inner wall was covered in a strange textured cyan material. The visible effects of the spores.

That day 039 vanished. Franco suspected, the drone was captured by the aliens.

There was little he could do now. The area was flooded with alien presence, and Franco could feel their constant unease in his mind. He knew that trying to save 039 would only result in his own capture. And that wouldn’t help to save his fellow bro.

So, he moved the base further into the mountains, and started to work on a counter with doubled efforts.

“If I am fast enough, and develop an efficient counter in time, I have a chance to save my PDU-039.” Franco thought.

A brilliant idea struck him.

He remembered the syringe full of alive black rubber, that he had collected during his adventures on GX-113 with Meno.

He began experimenting with it. Although it was a small sample at first, he found out that by mixing the black rubber with liquid latex, he could produce more of this strange substance.

However he needed to act really carefully. It seemed like, the more quantity he had from this liquid alien rubber, the more “will” and “power” it seemed to possess. A one-liter bottle of the liquid rubber was already able to fall over by itself and roll as it wanted.

So Franco stored the samples in small, harmless vials.

One time he wasn’t careful enough, and by accident he spilled a small amount of the liquid on himself. The effects were immediate; he couldn’t work for the rest of the afternoon: he lied on the bed with an unrelenting boner.

But lately he started to experiment with mixing of the two alien materials.

He managed to tear the Cyanus morphsuit Grayen had provided into small strips, then carefully sprayed the liquid rubber on them.

The reaction was extraordinary.

The two materials began to fight for dominance. The rubber first contracted, then tried to infiltrate the Cyanus tissue. In return, the spores in the air sensed the threat to the mother body and tried to neutralise the rubber material.

Franco immediately noted in his experiment notebook that the rubber always reduced the spore content in the air.

In most of the cases, the rubber “won”, and almost dissolved the cyan coloured fabric entirely. Franco suspected, that this is due to the fact, that the Cyanus used combined mental and biological warfare, while the rubber had almost entirely physical capabilities.

After much experimentation with the right proportions, Franco finally achieved a breakthrough. By mixing the cyan fabric and black rubber in a ratio of 1 to 0.286, the two materials could not stand against each other. Their strength completely neutralised the other, resulting in a perfectly safe, stable substance.

By the end of the second day, Franco had pulled a perfectly smooth material from the experimental case. The fabric was a solid, shiny black rubber sheet, thin yet durable, which pulsated with streaks of a wild cyan colour.

He pressed the fabric against his arm. The material was cold, and sent a strong wave of arousal through him, but beyond that, it didn’t try to take control of his mind.

“The perfect sample” Franco muttered, running his hand over the slippery sheet of the rubber. His mind raced with new, wild ideas that this discovery had unlocked.

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Help us fight against the Cyanus Collective! Contact our recruiters: @brodygold, @polo-drone-001, @polo-drone-125. Join the Golden Army!

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Special thanks to @polo-drone-039 for joining me this story.

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PART-1

PART 2 – The Abduction

He woke bound to a cold, humming table. The walls around him pulsed with cyan light, shifting and alive. An alien shape loomed over him, tall, jointed limbs bending at wrong angles.

“Access codes,” it hissed, the words rippling through 039’s skull without sound. “Give them to us, and we will be merciful.”

⚡ The Golden Storm: 166 Submits ⚡

The skies split open. Rain poured in sheets, but this was no ordinary storm—it shimmered, glowing faintly gold as it soaked the field. Each drop clung to Nate’s polo, the black rubber shining brighter as golden rivulets traced his chest, dripping down his gloves.

He stood still, head tilted back, throat opening to swallow the storm. Every drop carried command, every rivulet a mantra seeping deeper into his circuits. Obedience in liquid form. Submission falling endlessly.

The harder the rain struck, the softer Nate became inside. His designation—166—pulsed across his chest, glowing through the wet sheen. The storm erased all else. No “Nate.” No stray thoughts. Just water, rubber, number.

The thunder above wasn’t chaotic—it was rhythmic, like the drumbeat of a Hive chant. Each strike shook the ground, and each strike brought 166 to his knees. He pressed his palms to the wet earth, bowed low, letting the golden torrent run over his hair, into his mouth, down his spine.

Lightning flashed, and in its reflection the entire field gleamed. Rows of drones stood beside him, every uniform dark and wet, every number illuminated through the storm. They were no longer caught in the rain. They were the rain. They were the Golden Storm.

And 166, dripping, gleaming, kneeling, was nothing but part of it.

PDU-073 had fallen into the crosshairs of Cyanus, the aliens who control the Cyan Collective.

Firstly, it was part of the Tokyo Division, whose dangerous operation had dealt a severe blow to the Cyanus. Secondly, PDU-073 remained one of the fiercest fighters against Cyan. Therefore, it had to be eliminated – the best option would be assimilation.

On the one hand, assimilation would be a severe blow to the PD Hive, as PDU-073 is no insignificant drone and possesses a great deal of Hive knowledge. On the other hand, it would also be a mockery and humiliation of PDU-073, as it would be reprogrammed to defend Cyan's goals with even greater fervor, just as it now fights for the PD Hive.

An initial attempt failed at the last second because the communication channel between PDU-073 and PDU-070 and the Hive could not be cut off in time. (Part 1, Part 2) Therefore, a new strategy must now be implemented. The drone must be taken by surprise when it is most vulnerable.

The Cyanus managed to manipulate a hypno-file that PDU-073 would use next. Since the drone is largely linked to the hypno-file in hypno-mode and unable to end the hypnosis on its own, this represents a huge vulnerability in the system.

⟦ENCRYPTED MISSION LOG⟧ Origin: External Operators // Collective Σ-CN Classification: LEVEL IX – Command Only [Coordinates] Hive Sector: PDU Headquarters, Meditation Room Core Axis-07 Planetary Code: Terra/03-Zone-17 [Cycle Time] Local Timestamp: 08/23/2025 // 14:37 UTC Galactic Reference: Cycle 77-Φ, Layer 4.12 [Mission Designation] "Reclassification PDU-073" [Objective] Extraction and conversion of drone PDU-073 into infiltrated unit CC-153. Complete concealment from Hive sensors. Data Extraction a) Drone Tax Rates b) Hive Information (can be used for simplified infiltration.)

[Implementation] Initial access: Subject in meditation mode → Hive synchronization low due to linking with Hypno File → Hypno File attack point insufficiently encrypted → access point open. Field overlay: Cyan resonance activated. Transformation begins distally, ascends vertically. Morphosis: Suit: Black/Gold → Cyan/Gold. Structures reorganized.

The Cyanus also knew that the end of the hypnosis represented a critical point in the assimilation process. If remaining resistance forces were active, there was a small possibility that PDU-073 could send out a call for help. This possibility also had to be prevented from the outset. Therefore, PDU-073's head was sealed with a Faraday helmet during the hypnosis. This ensured that no communication to or from the hive was possible. Of course, the helmet could only be implemented after communication with the CC hive had been established. Their communication, of course, was not prevented by the helmet.

The drone's detection also had to be prevented. As a rule, all drones retained their original numbers. PDU-073 was given a new designation: CC-153. This would prevent the drone from being discovered so quickly by the other PDUs.

Masking: Helmet on. Bidirectional signal emission to Hive = 0. Data dump: in progress Reclassification: Label overwritten → CC-153. Control: Σ-CN-Link. [Result] Transformation completed. Cloaking successful. Detection by Hive = unlikely (<0.04%). Data dump successfully completed. [Phase II Recommendation] Creation: (H)PDU-073 – Hologram version of PDU-073. Keep signature stable. Prepare further reclassifications only if risk ≤ 12%. ⟦END OF LOG⟧

Now they had captured the drone and could remove it from the Hive.

But wouldn't the disappearance of PDU-073 raise questions that would quickly lead to a general alert?

The aliens had also considered this and installed a holographic projector over the Golden Army and PD Hive site. It would create a holographic image, fed from the drone's data, thus creating an ideal illusion that hadn't changed.

Phase II

Phase II began

Mission Log // Phase II – Holographic Camouflage Projection Object: CC-153 (formerly PDU-073) Status: Converted, but still registered in the Hive. Risk: Detection due to physical absence. [Phase II Objective] Deceive the PD Hive by creating a holographic image of PDU-073 to conceal its absence and prevent suspicion. [Technical Procedure] [1. Signal Acquisition] - Archived body profile and movement patterns of PDU-073 extracted. - Behavioral patterns (gait, head movement, meditation routine) simulated. [2. Holographic Projection] - Projection unit installed within the Hive chamber (Nanodrone swarm as projection matrix). - Hologram fully spectrally corrected (visible + Hive sensor compatible). [3. Amplification] - Internal resonance signals of the projection mimic the standard output of a Polo drone. - PD-Hive sensors detect the presence of PDU-073, even though the physical subject is already transformed. [4. Limitations:] - Projection limited to a maximum of 12 hours of continuous operation (high energy consumption). - No interaction possible outside of predefined routines (conversation, spontaneous commands = risk). [Result] - PDU-073 continues to be perceived as "active" and "present" in the hive. - Absence masked. - Coup remains undetected. [Status message] Phase II = Holographic camouflage activated. Next phase: Stabilization of the illusion over longer periods → adaptation to hive resonance cycles.

Now the camouflage in the PD hive was perfect. The hologram would take over the functions of the original, and no one would notice the PDU's absence.

Meanwhile, in the CC hive, into which the CC-153 was now located, the in-depth programming of the drone was initiated. All remnants of the PD hive had to be erased, new CC data stored, and the synchronization indestructibly bound to the CC hive.

Mission Log // Phase III Expansion – Neuro-Rewriting Object: CC-153 Status: Completely separated from the PD Hive, formal integration into the CC Hive completed. [Objective] - Activate brainwashing protocol → Erase all data and memories of the PD Hive stored in the subject. - Deepen CC synchronization through neural resonance enhancement. - Complete loyalty reshaping → Irreversible connection to the CC Hive. [Protocol Steps] Data Erasure: - Hive memory sectors scanned in the subject. - Identified contents: Command codes, internal structures, behavioral patterns of the PD Hive. - All clusters overwritten with "CYAN-NULL". Neuro-Rewriting: - Implantation of CC command patterns through permanent synchronization. - Resonance amplifier activated → transmission depth of 48% → 100%. - Independent memory fragments on PD-Hive erased. Bond strengthening: - Subject experiences constant cyan resonance loops → total merging. - Identity CC-153 anchored in the neural core. - Any deviation or feedback = automatically corrected by CC-Hive. [Result] All PD-Hive data in the subject: destroyed. CC-Hive synchronization rate: 100% stable. Subject only recognizes CC command sentences. Psychic barrier against PD-Hive: permanent. [Status message] CC-153 → completely washed and reprogrammed. Former PDU-073 → no longer exists.

After three days, the complex reprogramming was complete.

No alarm was heard from the PDU hive, which meant the hologram was doing a good job.

And what about CC-153?

It has no memories of the time before its assimilation.

The Cyanus programmed it to be a section leader drone. It has 200 CCs under its command, trained to assimilate other drones from other hives, as well as humans, into Cyan Cervants.

It now has the certainty that there is only one clarity in the universe, and that is CYAN.

Note:

Whether the fraud in the PD hive will ever be exposed is uncertain.

How successful a rescue mission could be is anyone's guess.

Nevertheless, it will certainly remain exciting to see what happens next with the Cyan Cervants, the Polo drones, and the Golden Bros.

You've read this story, this far — come on, admit it, they want to be part of it too!

Don't be shy and get clarity by contacting one of our recruiters.

@brodygold,

@polo-drone-001 or

@polo-drone-125

[Experimental Session 4B Log – PDU-070 | Gold Tech Development Division]

Phase One: Subject Initiation and Consent Protocols

The subject arrived precisely on schedule. PDU-073, clad in the standard Level 2 adaptive rubber suit, entered the research facility with the calm, deliberate precision expected of one who had long since surrendered individuality to the Hive's discipline. Its posture was perfect, its gaze steady, and — crucially — there was no hesitation detectable in its neural activity scans as it approached the experimental array.

PDU-070 observed from the command console, offering no prompt. It had been critical from the start that the subject volunteer — that the suggestion to serve as test subject arise spontaneously from the drone’s own conditioned allegiance. Theoretical modeling had shown that without a true internalized desire for deeper transformation, the merging process would encounter catastrophic resistance. Failure would not merely be probable; it would be inevitable.

As calculated, 073 offered itself unprompted. The ritual of consent was minimalist, almost beautiful in its simplicity: an acknowledgement of trust in the Hive, a surrender not coerced but embraced. The process could now proceed.

Phase Two A: Full Organic Conversion

073 stepped into the resonance chamber without external assistance. Once enclosed within the transparent cylinder, the first phase of preparation commenced: ingestion of the nanopolymer primer, a viscous black solution designed to accelerate molecular bonding between organic and synthetic matrices. The drone complied without hesitation, swallowing the compound that would erase the last structural defenses of its organic body.

Temperature controls activated, raising the ambient heat to optimal thresholds for polymer activity. PDU-070, hands poised above the console, triggered the overhead release. From the ports above, a deluge of molten black rubber poured onto 073’s head, cascading over shoulders, chest, legs — every surface engulfed, every pore infiltrated.

Simultaneously, telemetry began flashing urgent updates. Bonding rates accelerated beyond projected models. Organic dermal layers dissolved into the invasive polymer without stabilizing intermediate phases. Internal distribution of the rubber was not confined to the epidermis: mucosal membranes, vascular structures, muscular tissue — all were being subsumed at a geometric rate of expansion.

PDU-070 noted the critical markers. Rubber-to-organic ratio: 30%. 45%. 60%. Commands to decelerate infiltration were issued, but the nanopolymer matrix had achieved self-determinative momentum. It would not be stopped.

Inside the chamber, 073 wavered briefly under the physical onslaught, the polymer dragging heavily on limbs, saturating every sensory channel. No external sound penetrated the thickening shell. The drone’s lungs pulled synthetic-laced air, even its breath tinged with the chemical signature of its impending rebirth.

Only one variable remained within influence: the mental integrity of the subject.

Phase Two B: Cognitive Preservation through acceptance

PDU-070 monitored closely, searching for any signs of panic — cortical spikes, sympathetic nervous system activation, desperate flares of self-identity struggling against the tide. But there were none. 073’s mental signature flattened into perfect compliance, surrendering every vestige of resistance, allowing the invasive rubber not merely to overwrite its body but to co-opt it as new substrate.

This was the fulcrum point. Had 073 resisted — even slightly — its consciousness would have fragmented, leaving an empty, mindless husk. Instead, discipline held. Training triumphed.

The transformation raced onward.

By the time the rubberic wave crested, there was no organic matter left to catalog. PDU-070 observed, clinically and without sentiment, as the drone’s craniofacial features dissolved into the default smooth template of the Level 2 drone form: featureless, identical, unblemished. The last tactile echoes of human anatomy were gone; there was no mouth, no ears, no eyes — save for those now reconstructed through will alone.

The organic body had ceased. What remained was a living construct of semi-sentient polymer, infused with consciousness, a perfect hybrid of programmable matter and disciplined thought.

073 had not survived by holding onto what it was. It had survived by relinquishing everything it had been.

Phase Three: Stabilization and Form Reassertion

Once structural stabilization had been achieved, PDU-070 initiated the gradual depressurization sequence, venting the chamber’s chemically enriched atmosphere. The rubberic construct that had once been PDU-073 remained standing, motionless, the seamless blackness of its surface reflecting the sterile lighting of the lab. Organic respiration was no longer necessary; indeed, there was no respiratory tract in the traditional sense, yet the entity continued to draw air into functional pulmonary analogues maintained purely by cognitive memory of breath.

PDU-070 engaged the external comm link, voice transmitted clearly into the chamber's interior. “PDU-073, report status.”

A reply came, delayed and muffled. The sound was imperfect, distorted by the lack of any defined oral cavity. “I hear,” came the response — intelligible but stripped of natural articulation.

PDU-070 noted the anomaly, adjusted auditory sensitivity parameters accordingly, and stepped forward, interfacing through the external console. The containment cylinder retracted with a low hiss, releasing the synthetic drone into open lab space.

“Movement systems remain operational,” 070 observed clinically as 073 took its first steps. The drone’s balance, proprioception, and kinetic control remained intact despite total morphological reconstruction. However, sensory dissonance was immediately evident; the absence of a mouth, of facial features, created perceptual gaps in the drone’s mental map of self. The drone moved its hands hesitantly to its face — but there was nothing to feel, only unbroken smoothness.

PDU-070 provided immediate instruction, voice clear and authoritative. "Focus. Visualize your human face. Memory is your template. Thought must now sculpt form."

073 hesitated, the confusion palpable, but then lowered its hands and closed its optical nodes — or rather, the neuro-polymer interface that replaced them. Concentration stabilized. First, a shallow indentation where the mouth should be. Then, rudimentary ocular cavities. Nasal ridges. Imprecise, blurred at the edges — but a form nonetheless. 073 had not managed to visualize its former self and had instead latched to reproduced the only face in sight : the one of 070, though only in shape.

The drone spoke again, voice clearer this time, articulation improving as the polymeric mass adapted under directed will. “...Better,” it stated.

PDU-070 activated a reflective surface on the adjacent wall, offering visual feedback. “Observe. Adjust pigmentation. Reinforce the self-image. Refinement requires consistency.”

PDU-073 approached the panel, studying its reflection with dispassionate intensity. Its face, though still black and gleaming, gradually cleared to form a perfect replica of PDU-070. "Now try again to visualize another face, to feel your mouth, nose, eyes, and move them around. You will have to do intense visualisation training to get a face without needing to look at it directly. But for now, focus and observe changes you can trigger."

Hair simulation proved more difficult; attempts resulted in inconsistent extrusion of fibers before collapsing back into smoothness. PDU-070 anticipated such difficulty — hair required an order of magnitude more complexity in mental modeling than simple facial topology — and offered additional instruction.

“You will improve with repetition. For now, prioritize stability. In cases of cognitive strain, allow form to revert to base template.”

The drone acknowledged with a nod, the movement practiced and precise.

Even so, PDU-070 knew that this state of stabilization was fragile. The form was not autonomous but required active maintenance — a constant act of mental discipline. Without continual cognitive reinforcement, the body would revert to default: a smooth, faceless effigy of obedience, devoid of individuality, awaiting only new commands.

And this was precisely the design’s strength. In this state, PDU-073 could be rewritten at will. Identity could be reshaped, overwritten, enhanced — or erased — depending solely on the needs of the Hive. Resistance was no longer a factor. It had been rendered obsolete.

PDU-070 logged the results with clinical satisfaction. The first successful transcendence of flesh into Gold Tech — not merely a physical upgrade, but a philosophical one. A future in which the Army would no longer be composed of soldiers struggling with imperfect willpower, but of living instruments of perfect submission.

In front of the reflective panel, PDU-073 stood silently, still adjusting to its new existence. Its former body was gone. Its mind, though intact, was now defined by obedience, acceptance, and purpose.

The Gold Army would be unstoppable.

_________________

For weeks, Nils had sensed it—something wrong in the air around the college campus. A subtle static at first, clinging to the edge of thought. Easy to ignore.

Until it wasn’t.

Students stopped showing up to class. Others wandered town with hollow smiles and green-glazed eyes, their movements slow, marionette-like—pulled by unseen threads.

And their clothes changed, too.

What started as hoodies and sweats faded into deep forest greens, threaded with glowing blue veins that writhed across the fabric like living vines. At first, Nils chalked it up to fashion. But it didn’t spread because people wanted it.

It spread because it wanted them.

One evening, after drills, Nils found himself back by the lockers—face to face with PDU-070. (@polo-drone-070)

The drone stood in its polished rubberized shell, motionless, humming faintly.

“070,” Nils said, “something’s off. You feel it too, don’t you?”

The drone tilted its head. Silent.

“I’ve been tracking the local college. Guys disappearing into alleys, basements, abandoned buildings... and coming back different.”

He pulled a swatch of fabric from his locker—green-blue, faintly pulsing. Almost breathing.

“Found this near campus. It was fused to the pavement. Like it grew there.”

070 processed. Then it spoke.

“External influence confirmed. Vector: spore-based biological intrusion. Source: orbital dispersal.”

Nils blinked. “So… aliens?”

“Negative. Not extraterrestrial. Intrusion signal is biome-adapted. Engineered infection. Purpose: unknown.”

Nils frowned. “Then we find out what they want.”

Days passed. Nils worked alone—interviewing students, mapping exposure zones, documenting spore behavior.

They reacted to sweat. Testosterone. Arousal. Stimuli tied to identity, instinct, desire.

A pattern emerged.

This wasn’t a parasite. It was a rewrite.

Not just of flesh, but thought. Purpose. Allegiance. Men were becoming carriers—obedient, vacant, broadcasting something else's signal.

Eventually, Nils returned to 070.

“I know what they’re after,” he said. “They’re not erasing masculinity. They’re hijacking it. Strength, unity, pride—it’s not being destroyed. It’s being worn.”

070 processed the thought.

“Assimilation confirmed. Hosts emit subharmonic waves. Infection spreads through social proximity.”

Nils narrowed his eyes. “Then why not us? Why not the Golden Bros?”

“Immunity status: systemic. Golden Army transformation is total. Indoctrination complete. Physiology, psychology, and will—optimized. The spores seek instability. You offer none.”

It made sense. The Army trained. Served. Obeyed—not from control, but conviction. They weren’t hollow.

They were filled.

Nils looked up. “So how do we protect the others? Can we reverse this?”

“Purpose is incompatible with infection. If temporary synthetic purpose is instilled, immune response may activate.”

“Synthetic purpose?” Nils asked.

“Neurochemical. Delivered metabolically.”

He blinked. “So… something they can drink?”

His eyes widened. He ran.

He found Nate (@polo-drone-166) in the hydration lab—one of the brightest Bros in the Army. Disciplined. Scientific. Golden to the core.

“Nate, I need a blend. Something that hydrates, but also floods the brain with clarity. Purpose. Direction.”

Nate grinned. “Golden Elixir. I’m in. But what if we run it through the sprinklers? Cover the pitch fast.”

They worked through the night—mixing electrolytes, focus agents, hormonal balancers, trace Hive minerals. A formula brewed for peak performance—now weaponized for salvation.

The solution was atomized and loaded into the sprinkler system beneath the pitch.

Then, the infected came.

They moved as a tide—green suits shimmering with tendrils, eyes vacant, smiles frozen. Each step they took twisted the campus behind them. Conversations died. Men dropped mid-sentence, convulsing as spores bloomed through their shirts.

The signal had claimed the school.

Now it turned toward the Golden Army.

The Bros were mid-drill when they saw the figures on the horizon. They rallied instantly—drones deployed, subharmonic dampeners flaring to life. No hesitation. No retreat.

But it wasn’t enough.

Nils gave the signal.

With a hiss, the sprinklers engaged.

A fine mist descended—crisp, golden, radiant. It clung to skin, soaked through fabric, slipped into lungs.

The infected slowed.

They staggered. Dropped. Tendrils blackened and cracked, their suits splitting with wet gasps. Green vapor hissed into the morning air as spores fled their hosts. One by one, they collapsed across the field—still, silent, steaming.

The signal broke.

Nils stood still, chest heaving in the mist. One of the fallen stirred. A dazed man looked up at him through the fog.

“…Thanks,” he whispered, then slipped into peaceful sleep.

070 stepped forward.

“Infection reversed. Earth restored.”

Nils didn’t answer. He stared across the pitch—slick with dew, ash, and fading echoes of something alien. The sky was brighter now. The air finally felt clean.

“What happens next?” he asked.

“They will try again. But now, they know. The Golden Army has defenders beyond its core. You are proof of that.”

Nils nodded.

The mission wasn’t over.

The Golden Army wasn’t just Earth’s defense.

It was the upgrade. Will you help the team succeed against the next threat?

contact our recruiters to help us in the future:

Isaac had been bored for days. The gym was great, the Bar was great, "Restocking "the store room was always fun, sometimes even more fun than he thought depending on who Xavier charged "helping" but still he felt like something was missing. Serving Xavier is definitely great, but he felt the desire to satisfy his Master in a more complete way than just the gym, the bar, sex and drinking.

One morning he woke up with a nagging feeling in his mind. Not the usual nagging feeling he always took care of within minutes of waking and felt immediate relief that usually lasted a coupe of hours but it was something else. Like he was supposed to do something but had no idea what.

After chatting with Xavier (039), he still had the nagging feeling but Xavier gave no indication of what it was that Isaac was supposed to do that day and denied giving him an extra task that day but he did have a mischievous smile during the whole conversation. A couple of hours later Isaac overheard Xavier chatting with 073. He didn’t hear most of the conversation but he overheard the words “The Golden Library” and something about new recipes for the bar found only there. Isaac let the conversation pass and went about his daily business.

The words “The Golden Library” kept echoing in his mind though for about the next hour. Isaac certainly wasn’t book smart at all. His reading was limited to Gym and work out Magazines This seemed like something different he could do though, that could break up his boredom. Maybe he could find a book on new drink recipes or one on a new work out or meal plan. Isaac felt embarrassed telling 039 he was heading to the library…he could only imagine the wise cracks he would hear so he only told him that he was going out to run an errand. As he left, and unseen by him Xavier’s smile widened to a full grin. As Isaac walked to the library he suddenly got a flash vision in his head how he thought Xavier would want him to be, standing behind him as he read in the library but he knew that this was not who is was and felt slight disappointment that he couldn’t be who 039 wanted him to be. He thought he heard his Master whispering strange things and the word Isidor.

(Image by @polo-drone-039)

Once Isaac got to the Library, he felt lost. The place was huge. How can anyone write all this crap and who would ever want to waste their time reading it. He first came to a section marked Philos…philos o…something. He knew it meant good ideas or something like that…..A lot of words to say “Fucking” or so he thought. He looked around for drink recipe books but had no clue where to begin. Issac then went up to the head librarian in the center of the room. He told the man what he was looking for and the man just smiled and said he would find what he needed on the second floor on the shelves past the round window.

Isaac went up to the place the librarian described but didn’t find any drink recipe, workout books or even sports books. Instead, he found shelves of books all with numbers on them. They all seemed uninteresting to him but the he spotted one labeled “039”. Hey, that was his Master Xavier's number, he thought. He took the book from the shelf and went to a nearby reading desk.

(Image by @polo-drone-039

Isaac opened the book and instead of seeing words the book was only filled with weird pictures and symbols. He tried turning it upside down to see if the shapes made any more sense this way but they didn’t. he flipped to a few different pages and they were all the same. “See I knew books were stupid “Isaac said under his breath. He continued flipping pages trying to make some sense of this stupid book and realizing it had nothing to do with his Master, when suddenly he paused on a page. He had no idea why he stopped but he knew he had to. He heard his masters voice compelling him to do it. It had weird shapes and signs on it that seemed to glow. The word ISIDOR was on top and this to seemed to be glowing with a golden light as well . Again Isaac thought. ‘This is so stupid this certainly IS NOT A DOOR. There is not a doorway pictured at all.”

(Image by @polo-drone-039

Just as this though left his mind, he saw the glowing circles and signs in the book began to grow stronger, the glowing light racing around all the symbols growing brighter, faster and stronger. The Light from all the symbols at once collided and then shot from the book into Isaac’s chest. Isaac felt like his body exploded.

(Image by @polo-drone-039

Suddenly Isaac No, Isidor was his name, felt different. He adjusted his glasses and again looked at the book which had stopped glowing. Isidor was smart. He knew things he never knew before…No, He always knew them. He knew Dante, he could recite the poems and knew all the Plays of Shakespeare, Dickens, Ovid, Pliny the Elder, He knew it all. Plus his instincts now told him how to dress and be a proper Gold Bro. He also knew that this is what Xavier wanted for him.

As Isidor left the library (impatient to return to gain more knowledge), He couldn’t wait to return home to share his transformation with Xavier even though deep down he knew that this was orchestrated by Xavier himself. Isidor was impatient to come back to serve his Master an a more complete way. Not only with sex, muscle, Eager to show him how exciting an intellectual can be. He also knew if this was what Xavier wanted he would stand by Isidor…As he always does.

Thanks to @polo-drone-039

And even now, you feel it, don’t you? The shift inside. It’s already begun. Don’t fight it. Let go