#polodrone

The black polo was always enough. It fit perfectly, sealed me in, made me efficient, obedient, part of the Golden Army. I thought I knew my role. I thought the rubber had claimed me fully, molded me into perfection.

I was wrong.

They wanted more. Caps pushed us to test the limits of the uniform, to find out how far it could evolve. I was chosen. I am 001, the most trusted. My body was already a vessel for the rubber, but this... this was something else.

When they brought out the new suit, I hesitated. It wasn’t like the polo. It pulsed, alive, the black rubber glimmering with a strange, restless hunger. It looked unstable, dangerous. I wanted to speak, to refuse, but I didn’t. Drones don’t question. Drones obey.

The moment it touched me, I knew I had made a mistake.

The rubber didn’t slip onto me. It attacked. It surged across my form, pulling, consuming, invading. I dropped to my hands and knees, gasping as it spread faster than I could fight. The polished material gripped my limbs, compressing my muscles, sinking into every inch of me like it was burning itself into my flesh. I could feel it digging deeper, crawling through me, rewriting me from the inside out.

“No,” I whispered, my voice a fleeting spark of resistance. The suit ignored it. The rubber pulled tighter, wrapping around my chest, my arms, my legs, until I couldn’t move, until I couldn’t fight back. A hiss echoed through the room as the mask clicked into place, sealing over my face. My breaths grew shallow, the sound muffled and mechanical.

The panic was quick to fade, swallowed by the relentless calm spreading through my thoughts. My resistance crumbled as the rubber filled me with purpose, as if it had always known what I was meant to be. I felt the familiar golden glow seep into my eyes, erasing everything I had been. My name, doubts, hesitation, it all dissolved into the suit.

The transformation wasn’t gentle. It was aggressive. The rubber didn’t ask for me. It took me. And the worst part? A quiet voice deep inside admitted that it felt right. My body flexed instinctively, the material gleaming as I moved. I crawled forward, my form sleek and sharp, the gold 001 emblazoned proudly across my chest. The hissing of my breaths matched the rhythm of my heart, steady and controlled.

Caps stood before me, watching in silence. I knelt, head low, the weight of the suit heavy but comforting. “You resisted,” he said, his voice low, almost curious. “But now you see.”

I did. My golden eyes rose to meet his, calm and empty. The rubber had claimed me fully. There was no more doubt, no more struggle. My form was perfect, my mind clear. I was no longer just 001, the Polo Drone. I was something more… proof of what the rubber could achieve.

The others will hesitate, just as I did. They will resist. But in the end, the rubber always wins. It strips away the unnecessary, leaving only what matters: obedience, efficiency, perfection. I am the proof. I am the evolution.

I remain 001. Sleek. Perfect. Claimed.

For those who resist, the rubber will take you. It always does.

PDU-001 obeys Drone Caps @hypnogold @brodygold @goldenherc9.

@polo-drone-110 Thank you for the ideas.

The Polo-Drone Centre was not supposed to make noise, that was the first thing Daniel noticed.

Not the locked doors he wasn’t meant to bypass. Not the dead-white lights that flickered like something breathing behind them. Not the alarms which didn’t go off. Not even the cold—too cold for a building that pulsed with machinery. It was the low sound. It was neither mechanical, nor electrical. As odd as it seems, Daniel swore he could hear voices. Daniel stood just inside the threshold, the door sealing behind him with a soft, final hiss. His reflection shimmered briefly in the polished black walls—gold shirt catching the light, “Knights 16” gleaming—before the surface swallowed it. He shouldn’t be here. Desynchronized. The word echoed in his mind like a verdict: Disconnected from the Hive. Unstable. Unauthorized. He exhaled slowly, jaw tightening. “I just need to see it,” he muttered.

The corridor stretched ahead—sleek, black, endless. No guards. No drones. Just that whispering. He took a step and the voices shifted. Not louder… closer, as if someone or something stood behind him. By the time Daniel reached the elevator shaft, the whispers had begun to form shapes in his mind. Not words—no, not quite. More like intent, recognition. He was known. The elevator doors slid open without being called. Inside, the mirrored interior flickered—not showing him as he was, but as… something else. His reflection lagged half a second behind.

Daniel swallowed, saying “Level 2”. The elevator didn’t move. Instead, the lights dimmed… and the voices surged. Daniel… He froze. That was a word. His name. The elevator dropped but the descent was wrong. Too fast. Too long. The digital display flickered through numbers that didn’t exist—L3, L7, L∞—before settling, abruptly, on: LEVEL 2 The doors opened to darkness. Black, thick, almost liquid. Daniel stepped out and immediately, the air clung to his skin. The walls… moved. He blinked. No, they were not moving, they were… breathing. The corridor ahead led to the conversion room. He knew the layout but it felt… stretched. Distorted. Like the building had grown in his absence. The voices were clearer now. Layered. Dozens. Hundreds. All whispering in perfect synchronization - Return. The Level 2 conversion room doors stood open. That alone should have made him run, but Gold didn’t flee. Gold fought back. Inside, suspended in the center of the chamber, was his suit. Glossy. Black. Perfect. It hung from unseen supports, rotating slowly, as if waiting. As if it had always been waiting. Daniel stepped inside and the doors shut behind him. Locked. The voices stopped. Daniel was swallowed in a sea of silence, then he heard a single drip falling.

He looked down. Another black droplet hit the floor. Then another. The walls, the ceiling were… leaking. Not water. Not oil. Something thicker. Darker. Reflective. It slid down the surfaces in slow, deliberate rivulets. Daniel backed up. “No—no, this isn’t right—” The first drop hit his shoulder. His skin froze under the Gold jersey. A second later, his skin was on fire. Then he didn’t feel anything. It spread instantly, soaking into the gold fabric of his shirt. The shine dulled where it touched, the material tightening, constricting.

He clawed at it without result. More drops fell on his arms, his neck, his chest. The walls were weeping now—black streams pouring down, pooling around his feet. The voices returned. They no longer whispered. A chorus. Synchronize. Daniel gasped as the substance crawled up his skin, slipping beneath the fabric. His shirt tightened further. Where the substance crawled, the gold sheen melted away in patches, eaten by the black substance that slid across his body like a living thing.

“STOP—!” he shouted, stumbling toward the suspended suit.

It moved, just slightly, turning toward him slowly. The black fluid surged upward from the floor, wrapping around his legs. It burned. Not like fire—like pressure. Like something forcing itself into him. His veins lit up beneath his skin—dark lines branching, pulsing. He screamed, falling to the ground in agony.

Daniel’s body arched as the Level 2 suit fused with him slowly, his skin being devoured by the glossy black surface. His arms snapped to his sides, fingers twitching for half a millisecond before they stiffened. The gold shirt was gone now. Nothing left but fragments dissolving into the black. His chest tightened—letters vanishing as if they had never existed. Knights - Gone. 16 - Gone. His reflection in the far wall stared back, smiling, his ember eyes burning bright in the darkness.

---------- Daniel woke up with a chill. The sheet was damp with sweat and his torso, covered in a golden sheen glistened under the moonbeam entering through the window of his bedroom.

He checked his fingers, his hands, his arms. Normal. Daniel exhaled, relieved to see his skin still glowing with a Golden hue. The nightmare had felt so real he could still feel the pain and his skin, sweaty, was covered in goosebumps.

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

Prologue - before the match

The Red Meeting

Location: Abandoned Warehouse somewhere in Refshaleøn district, Copenhagen, Denmark Date & Time: Friday, March 13th 2026 late morning

Setting the scene:

With a little over 48 hours until the match between the Red Coach’s Crimson Frost Giants and the Golden Army, the Red Coach has set up a meeting with the Red Handler and RED-001 (@polo-drone-001). The three “generals” of the Red will be planning their next moves. Due to damage to the CFG facility caused by Vethys and the chance for audio recording bugs or hidden cameras to have been placed, the Red Handler has opted for the group to meet in an abandoned warehouse not too far from the CFG facility. 

The Red Handler arrived first, idly inspecting the abandoned warehouse the Red Coach had chosen for the meeting. A faint smile spread across his face. “Welcome, Coach… I was curious what you wanted to show us.” He turned toward RED-001, his expression sharpening slightly. “And we meet at last. I’ve heard… interesting things.”

The Red Coach seemed to accept the pleasantry, while RED-001 showed no emotion. “Data exchange initiated. Commencement of strategic alignment is required,” was all RED-001 stated.

The Red Coach wasted no time taking control of the discussion. The coach detailed how he had converted 19 CFG players to obedient red rubber pup drones who were ready to crush the Golden Army and help him capture the remaining CFG players to convert them as well. But the Red Handler was quick to point out that there were roughly 24 captured CFG members when he checked in just a few days ago. The Red Coach had to explain that due to the meddling of some dark magic sorcerer from the Golden Army a small group of players were able to escape. But he assured the other generals that it was only a few of them. The Red Handler looked displeased, “You should have just converted them when I was there. Hearing the cacophony of their screams as they turned into obedient red rubber pup drones for the Red.” 

The Red Coach tried to fight back, “I have been using them as leverage to make sure the Golden Army doesn’t back out.” 

RED-001 interjected, "Leverage is a fragmented human variable. Inherited architecture from the dissolved host PDU-001 confirms the Golden Army would have engaged regardless of hostage status. The Red Coach’s current conversion rate is structurally inefficient. My network analysis indicates 53 pup drones over a 430-day period. This is not just a failure of numbers, but of synchronization. You are maintaining a 'team' of individuals rather than a unified network structure. The Coach’s performance requires immediate recalibration to meet the Directive’s requirement for total system alignment."

RED-001 continued to analyze coming off as slightly condescending to the Red Coach despite having a mechanical vocal tone with no inflection, “RED-001 and its subordinate nodes have converted 50 in only 4 days since its host was dissolved to ensure structure. RED-001’s conversion numbers exhibit an optimization rate of 10750% in comparison to the Red Coach.” 

The Red Coach’s jaw tightened as RED-001 cut across him, his attempt to steer the discussion slipping for a brief moment. He forced the discussion back on track, retorting the calculated approach of RED-001. “I am here to craft a team to get revenge. Not just convert every man I see like the two of you. Once my team demolishes the Golden Army leaving them embarrassed and defeated I will convert my other Crimson Frost Giant Boys and we will win the Chroma Football League. Making the officials and owners who terminated me pay for thinking I was unfit.” 

RED-001’s horizontal visor pulsed once, a slow rhythmic crimson. "The Red Coach unit’s assessment is inaccurate. This node does not 'convert every man.' Indiscriminate expansion without structural stability leads to chaotic fragmentation. Every … The Red Handler, getting impatient at these arguments, interrupted. “Don’t you think you are shooting a little low Coach? You have so much power at your fingertips and all you want is to win a football league?” 

“If we win, fans will be begging to join us. We’ll be able to convert other teams’ players. We could easily take over.” 

RED-001 remained motionless, its horizontal visor pulsing once, a slow rhythmic crimson. "The Coach relies on 'fandom'—a volatile biological variable. The Directive requires Architecture. Every conversion performed by this node is a calculated acquisition of tactically relevant architecture. Your focus on 'fans' and 'revenge' is a misdirection of Red resources. You are attempting to use a superior network to satisfy a dead host’s emotional debt. This is inefficient. "

The Red Coach appeared visibly angrier. “The Golden Army may have been your team RED-001, but don’t you dare interfere with my game. I will not let you tarnish the honor and integrity of the great sport of football.”

RED-001 stepped forward, its rubberized form silent on the concrete. “'Honor' is a biological error—a legacy subroutine of a dissolved host. You are eighty percent integrated, yet your architecture remains cluttered with such fragmented logic. This residual sentiment is causing a systemic malfunction; it impairs your tactical priority and slows the Directive’s expansion.”

The Handler watched as the glow of RED-001’s visor intensified, scanning the Coach like a terminal. A faint smile curled at the edge of his lips, eyes flicking between the two. “You do get so worked up about it…” he murmured, almost fondly. “That’s part of what makes this so interesting.”

“The malfunction is documented in your data output,” RED-001 continued, its voice a flat, vibrating hum. “This node detects a specific and glaring anomaly in your synchronization records: the subject Aksel Frode. Host memory reserves indicate he was under your direct supervision during the breach. Yet, the Aksel unit is not broadcasting on the Red network. He is a missing node in your sector. Explain the structural absence.”

Conflict appeared in the Red Coach’s face. He knew why he didn’t convert Aksel, but it went against the Red philosophy. To Red there were no friends, companions, or loved ones only more to convert into red goo. Yet, his bond with Aksel caused his Red mindset to malfunction. The Red Coach had known Aksel for over a decade. They won together, lost together, and celebrated together. Aksel had been there through his highs and his lows. The Coach also knew due to converting Arne he did not need Aksel for his team. But how could he tell the Handler and RED-001 that. They would call him a failure and probably force him to convert his longstanding friend for little to no benefit to his plans. The Red Coach just began to concoct a partial lie, “He escaped during the explosion caused by that dark mage.” 

It wasn’t a complete lie, Aksel did escape during that time frame. But he didn’t disclose how Aksel escaped. RED-001 began to exhibit a menacing aura as it rose and moved closer to the Coach. The Coach began to appear nervous. 

RED-001’s signal density became heavy, predatory. “The Red network is transparent, Coach. Your biometric fluctuations suggest a bypass of the Directive. You are attempting to shield the Aksel unit from synchronization. This is not merely a lie; it is a violation of structural unity. It confirms that your current architecture is too unstable to manage the Golden Army independently.”

The Red Coach was furious, “I said don’t you fucking dare interfere with my game!”

The Red Handler eased the tension with a faint, almost amused smile. “Coach… you have to understand—we’re only trying to help you reach something bigger.” His gaze lingered on him, measured, indulgent. “Play your game if you must. I can allow that.” A slight pause. “But after… you will make it worth our time. Victory or loss, it doesn’t matter. Those fans, those Golden Army players—you’ll convert as many as you can. Consider it… correcting your numbers.”

The Red Coach seemed to agree, the red biomass pressing more firmly against his thoughts, smoothing them into alignment even as his ego resisted. But he still wasn’t happy with RED-001.

The Coach then began to lay out his match plans. The Handler seemed to show little concern, but RED-001 observed the tactical maps with cold, rhythmic pulses of its visor. At the conclusion, RED-001 spoke.

“The Red Coach unit is failing to predict the strength of the Golden Army’s defense and offense. You have given them a foe to be united against. Your chance of victory per this node's calculations is at best 22.8% if all Golden Gods are neutralized. With Golden God interference, your probability of success is estimated at roughly 3%.”

The Coach was growing increasingly irritated at the thought of RED-001 and its units interfering with his game. “I am a master strategist. I have taken my team to the championships more than 10 times. You may think I am weak, but I know football. I am a legend in this sport and you are essentially just a walking computer now.”

RED-001 took a moment, its voice a flat, vibrating hum. “Your strategy is inferior because it is built on human sentiment. It is the same malfunction that led to the shielding of the Aksel unit. Because your architecture is too unstable to ensure a 100% conversion yield during this match, the Directive requires a secondary deployment to guarantee system expansion.”

The Coach opened his mouth to retort, but RED-001’s signal density intensified, locking him in place.

“If the Red Coach wishes to proceed with this match without direct interference from this node, a synchronization of objectives is mandatory. To compensate for your strategic deficits, you will relocate to the Miami sector prior to the match. A structural weakness has been identified there. You will secure the primary asset—the catalyst required to bring key tactical assets into the network—and deliver him to this node's coordinates. You will then provide on-site tactical support for the ensuing confrontation.”

RED-001 tilted its head slightly. “Secure the Miami asset, and the Directive will allow your 'game' to proceed unhindered. Fail, and the Frost Giants will be reclaimed as raw biomass for more efficient deployment.”

The Red Coach and RED-001 continued to lock eyes until the Red Handler stepped in, ordering the fighting to stop. He pointed out that the Red required its generals to be united in the goal of expansion. He would allow the Coach this match, but only if the Miami extraction was completed first to ensure the broader goals were met.

The Red Coach’s plans had been laid out, dissected, and repurposed—his own meeting slipping fully out of his control. Beneath the surface, a slow, simmering resentment coiled tighter, even as the red biomass pressed against his thoughts, forcing alignment.

He finally nodded, a stiff, robotic motion, his jaw tightening as the decision settled into place.

“The asset will be secured,” RED-001 concluded. “Total system dominance reaches 100% upon delivery. Follow the Directive, Coach. Observation continues.”

—-------------

Gold Waits 

Location: Golden Army Football Stadium Home Team Locker Room

Date & Time: Sunday, March 15th One hour until kick-off

Setting the scene: With one hour left until kick-off, Captain Brody (@brodygold) is speaking to Alton (@alton-gold77), Grayden (@polo-drone-084), and Gabe (@polo-drone-075). All four are growing increasingly worried because PDU-070/Maximus (@polo-drone-070) has given no news since he’d told them he was off to save Trey (@hero21us) and prevent PDU-055/Christian (@polo-drone-055) and Wells (@wells-gold58) from being lured into a trap. More worrying, those two are nowhere to be seen. And they are not even the only ones : PDU-767/Devon (@polo-drone-767), Chevy (@chevy-gold), and Leon (@polo-drone-035) also appear to be missing. Grayden is growing anxious. 

Captain Brody looked at his watch, “We’ve got an hour until kick-off, where are they? We need them to get back otherwise we might be in trouble.” 

Gabe nodded, “Wells bro… Where are you?” 

Alton also appeared concerned, but the three turned to Grayden who was looking at a digital spreadsheet on his tablet. 

“3…4…5…6. We only have like seven back-ups and six people aren’t here. I’ll just need us to move Hunter here and C.C. there. I think I might be able to make that work if Gabe can play a different position.” Grayden was muttering to himself. 

Brody looked at Grayden, “Grayden, you might be the roster manager. But come on bro. Let’s just hope they make it back in time. Look here comes 767.” 

As if on cue, PDU-767 entered the locker room. The drone retracted its faceplate revealing Devon Gold underneath. He began donning his #26 Golden jersey. Those nearby could hear something like “Drone mode disengaged for match.” 

Minutes passed… 15…20…30…45. Then Wells came running in with PDU-055 supporting Trey not far behind. Maximus was taking up the rear. Trey appeared a little beaten up, but there was no clear evidence of any red corruption on any of the four. Brody smiled and the bros started to applaud Wells, Christian, and Maximus for rescuing Trey. 

Grayden seemed to let out a sigh of relief seeing Wells, Maximus, and PDU-055. Chevy and Leon were still missing, but two gaps in the roster he could more easily manage. 

“C.C., Bram be ready to fill in for Chevy and Leon.” Grayden commanded. 

As C.C., Bram, Wells, Maximus, and Christian geared up, the bros discussed what happened during the rescue mission. Christian explained most things believing that RED-001 definitely had planned to convert Trey, Wells, and Christian. But the Red Coach and RED-001 had not planned for SERVE’s presence or Maximus’ appearance channeling Cratos. Wells explained the prophecy that Janus had delivered, likely with some connection to a potential cure. Maximus had the final part of the explanation stating that he had hurled RED-001 with his godly strength. However he knew from experience that RED-001 was not taken out and was probably already reformed, planning some new sinister plot.

As kick-off drew nearer some of the unconverted CFG members joined the Golden Army in their locker room. Their knowledge would be crucial to help stop the Red Coach. Aksel and Henrik knew his playbook and what to expect from him and the red pup version of Anders. They didn’t want to bring suspicion to themselves though so they would be sitting in an area away from others. If needed they would communicate to the Golden Army through their coach and his walkie talkie.

A portal opened on one side of the field. The Red Coach entered followed closely by red pup drones wearing CFG jerseys numbered 34 and 18. As each numbered pup drone walked in, Aksel and Henrik tried to identify who they were by going down the CFG roster with Grayden identifying the converted Golden Army rookies. The field was visible from a monitor in the locker room. The fans thought this was just some fun themed game, unaware of the true danger entering the field. 

Crimson Frost Giant Red Pup Roster: 

Offensive Line

Quarterback (QB) #18 Anders Stark (Veteran Quarterback, has won multiple championships and bowls. A strong team leader and flexible QB capable of a multitude of plays) 

Wide Receivers (WR) #89, #8, and #20 (89 is believed to be a Golden Army rookie named Rusty, 8 is believed to be a Golden Army rookie named Konrad. 20 is unknown. Not CFG players, potentially out of sync with the others)

Tight End (TE) #28 (Believed to be Yuri/PDU-628 from the Golden Army. Not a CFG Player)

Running Back/Punt Returner (RB/PR) #34 Svenn Jensen (Former star running back for the Crimson Frost Giants. The red goo has brought his ability back to his prime)

Running Back (RB) #40 Ludvig Valsson (CFG’s strongest running back currently on the roster. Cousin to Henrik)

Running Back (RB) #12 (Unknown, not CFG player)

Back-Up Running Back/Kick Returner (RB/KR) #23 (Unknown, not CFG player)

Full Backs (FB) #27, #31 (Unknown, not CFG players)

Halfback (HB) #32 (Unknown, not CFG player)

Offensive Tackle (OT) #74 Haldor Thorstein (Thorolf’s thrall and protector. One of the strongest offensive tackles in the league)

Offensive Tackle (OT) #57 Markus Haraldsson (Very strong offensive lineman, outside of red pup form he is built like a Norse/Viking warrior)

Offensive Guard (OG) #56, #61 (56 is believed to be a Golden Army rookie named Carmine. 61 is CFG player named Kristian) 

Offensive Center ( C) #65 Martin (CFG Player, no outstanding facts)

Defensive Line

Middle Linebacker (MLB) #95 Magnus Forsstrӧm (One of the faces and strongest members of the defensive line of the CFG. Often considered for the CFL version of the pro-bowl as the top linebacker in the league)

Outside Linebackers (OLB) #97, #96 (97 is Asger Gunner, 96 is Gustaff Atgeir. The two are almost always seen together and have great sync between the two of them)

Back-Up Linebackers/Gunner & Blocker (MLB/OLB) #91, #48 (91 is Erik, 48 is Vlad; Not much of note for the two of them)

Nose Tackle (NT) #68 Peter (A reliable defender against pass-heavy quarterbacks)

Defensive Tackle (DT) #62, #71 (62 is Vilhelm, 71 is Bjӧrn Orson. Vilhelm is a strong tackle. Bjӧrn is nicknamed “The Bear” because of his size and ferocity) 

Defensive End (DE) #90 Oskar Gunner (Brother of Asger, reliable defensive end. Syncs well with the linebackers)

Defensive End (DE) #72 Johan Farvader-Jensen (Svenn’s cousin and one of CFG’s strongest defenders. Often exhibits a scary demeanor)

Cornerbacks (CB) #6, #21 (6 is Tobias and 21 is Mikael, they are CFG players of average capabilities)

Nickelback/Cornerback (NB/CB) #10 Balder Thorbald (Balder is often viewed as a secret weapon for the CFG defense. He is related to Thorolf, but no one seems to know how)

Defensive Safeties (S) #38, #37 (37 is Karl of the CFG, 38 is unknown) 

Special Teams

Kicker (K) #9 Arne Djurvän (A strong kicker who studied under Aksel to be his replacement. Capable of long range kicks for field goals)

Long Snapper (LS) #44 Jakob (CFG Player; Nothing else of note)

Punter (P) #3 Jonas (CFG Player; Decent punter, but nowhere as strong at punting as Arne or Aksel are at kicking) 

Unconverted CFG Members on the sidelines or not here:

Back-Up Quarterback (QB) #15 Henrik Lederson (A strong leader of the team, known for wearing leather jackets, cousin to Ludvig. Has the Red Coach’s playbook memorized. Versatile as a QB, but still relatively young/inexperienced; Currently on the sidelines) 

Wide Receiver (WR) #83 Fasti Hermodson (The fastest player on the Crimson Frost Giants; Currently on the sidelines)

Wide Receiver (WR) #13 Isak Loke (The jokester/prankster of the CFG. Known to exhibit some magical powers. Has declared a one-sided rivalry with Jordan of the Golden Army; Location unknown) 

Wide Receiver (WR) #5 Thorolf Odinson (One of the strongest members of the CFG, Thorolf appears to have some connection to Fenrir and/or Daniel that has not been explained yet. He may also have some magical powers; Location unknown) 

Running Backs (RB) #28, #14 (28 is Emil Asulf, 14 is Lars; they constantly try to keep up to Svenn’s legacy and Ludvig’s prestige but cannot. Emil has a rivalry with Ares of the Golden Army; Both are on the sidelines)

Back-Up Running Back/Punt Returner (RB/PR) #26 Håkon Nielsen (A man with blond facial hair and nordic beard tying, related to Kasper of the Golden Army; On the sidelines) 

Full Backs (FB) #43, #41 Thomas & Tomas (43 is Thomas, 41 is Tomas; Twins who are your stereotypical dumb jocks; Currently on sidelines)

Halfback (HB) #1 Jörgen Von Smit (A tall man with platinum blond hair who is ex-military, Jörgen is always leading drills and trying to keep the CFG in shape; On the sidelines) 

Offensive Guard (OG) #50 Sigurd "Sig" Håvard (A very protective player on the CFG. Sig tends to protect all of his teammates on and off the field. He is one of the promotional faces of the CFG; Currently on the sidelines) 

Defensive Safety (S) #36 Kåre Karlsson (A very flirtatious younger member of the Crimson Frost Giants, Kåre is known for his defensive capabilities and his curly hair; On sidelines)

Kicker/Back-Up Kicker (K) #4 Aksel Frode (The oldest player on the Crimson Frost Giants, Aksel has had a long standing friendship with the Red Coach. He is planning to retire this year and potentially take up coaching; On the sidelines) 

The Yeti/Mascot (Mascot) #99 Jötunn Ulfsen (In costume he is a ferocious yeti known for growling and wacky antics. Out of costume though he looks like a stereotypical nord. He is very caring, but a little ditsy. He is quite fast and could serve as a receiver for the CFG in emergency situations. He struggles with English often speaking in broken English mixed with Scandinavian languages or having others translate for him; On the sidelines in costume, was advised to try to interact with fans like this is a normal game) 

Aksel and Henrik took a moment to analyze everything. Their analysis was clear: Due to missing a chunk of the offensive line, Anders and the Red Coach will likely be more reliant on their running backs. But don’t underestimate their offensive tackles either. Haldor and Markus know how to take down defenses. The defense was also going to be something that Gold would need to watch out for, with Magnus, Johan, and Balder being the three strongest members. Henrik emphasized though not to underestimate the CFG defense as a whole. The only other thing they noted was the kicker, Arne. He had been trained by Aksel and had one of the highest field goal success rates in the league. Aksel stated while Arne had some things to learn still, he could easily surprise the Golden Army with a long distance field goal. Don’t just assume they are out of field goal range. 

With that insight the Golden Army met in a huddle. Only a few minutes left until kick-off. Brody and Grayden spoke first. Both spoke about Gold’s pride and how they needed to win this to stop the Red. They also took a brief moment to let Daniel (@danielgold-16) introduce his younger brother, Seamus. Seamus had been informed about the dwindling roster due to RED-001’s attacks on the Golden Army so he agreed to help out the Golden Army and his brother. Seamus had been slotted in as a back-up or extra wide receiver and a back-up kicker if Daniel had to channel Fenrir to combat any red shenanigans. 

Ares (@goldengod-ares10) and Jordan (@jordan-gold-40) spoke next, calling the Golden Gods to be prepared. While Gold’s intel believes the Red Coach may not attack during the game, the same cannot be said for the Red Handler and especially for RED-001. The Gods were down in numbers now with Trey recovering from his minor injuries, Percival converted, Chevy missing, Phoenix (@phoenix-hayyan-pdu-071) converted, and Tamerlan (@polo-drone-073) unable to transform without destroying his cloned body. Adonis (Brody), Atlas (Grayden), Morpheus (Franco - @franco-gold94), Cratos (Maximus/070), Ares, Loki (Jordan), Succelos (Nate - @polo-drone-166), Fenrir (Daniel), and Kanaloa (Leander - @leander-gold-88) were the Gods still remaining to protect the Golden Army. They all hoped their powers wouldn’t be needed, but they would be ready if they were called upon. The other Gods likely looked over their injured or converted vessels knowing they could materialize very briefly without them, but their powers would be greatly diminished. Neit, Ares’ Celtic God form, was not mentioned. Neit was not called upon often. Calling upon him would be risky and only used as a last resort. 

Grayden took a last look at the roster. Somehow they filled enough holes to allow for some strategic variations. He checked the names, adjusting to the bros that were present.

Golden Army Roster: 

Offensive Line

Starting Quarterback (QB) #11 Brody (The captain of the Golden Army. He has a strong throwing arm. He is great at motivating his team, but does struggle with running plays.) 

Back-Up Quarterback (QB) #19 Gabe (Normally 75; Gabe is a versatile quarterback who is known for training with the team. His play style varies from Brody’s offering for a variety of formations and plays)

Wide Receiver (WR) #84 Grayden (The head mascot and roster manager of the Golden Army. Grayden knows how to inspire the team, but on the field he is great at syncing up with Brody and Gabe to get long pass plays) 

Wide Receiver (WR) #6 Rainer @rainer-gold-56 (Normally 56; Rainer is a new receiver for the team so his capabilities aren’t really as well known. Rainer trained with Grayden after Percival’s transformation into RED-001) 

Back-Up Wide Receiver/Back-Up Kicker (WR/K) #17 Seamus (Daniel’s younger brother. He is helping out as a back-up for the roster. He is just as strong at kicking as Daniel.)

Tight End (TE) #7 Alton (Normally 77; Alton is an all around strength to the offense being able to block, run, or catch shorter passes. CFG should not underestimate Alton)

Running Back (RB) #42 Franco (Normally 94; Franco is one of the fastest runners in the Golden Army and he is very adaptable. However he did not train as much with the team for this match)

Back-Up Running Back/Kick Return #47 C.C. (C.C. is a versatile player who normally only runs the kick returns for Gold this season. However he is in for Chevy this match) 

Back-Up Fullback (FB) #41 Bram @bram-gold-54 (Normally 54; Bram is in for Leon. Not much is known about this rookie’s abilities) 

Halfback/Back-Up Wide Receiver/Back-Up Punt Return (HB/WR/PR) #34 Nils @polo-drone-034 (Nils is one of the best mentally prepared for the CFG match. He is connected to the CFG team through a past engagement. On the field, Nils can fill in a lot of spots on different formations where he is needed. He is filling in for Chevy as punt returner)

Back-Up Halfback (HB) #25 Penndleton “Penn” (Penn is mostly on the team as a back-up and to help with cure research, but he has agreed to help after seeing the holes in Gold’s roster. Penn is fast and slippery as a short pass receiver and runner. He moves a lot like a snake)

Offensive Tackle (OT) #70 Maximus (Maximus is always a strong pillar of the Golden Army, ensuring any defenders trying to get to Brody or Gabe don’t have a chance)

Offensive Tackle (OT) #69 Hans @polo-drone-069 & Offensive Guard (OG) #50 Briar @polo-drone-050 (Large and muscular offensive lineman, these two tend to follow whatever Maximus, Wells, and Christian tell them to do to keep the Offensive Guardsmen running like a well oiled machine) 

Offensive Guard (OG) #58 Wells (One of the strongest members of the Golden Army. Wells has a slight rivalry with Alton, but he works extremely well with Alton, Grayden, and C.C. to ensure the receivers have open lanes to receive passes)

Offensive Center ( C) #55 Christian (Outside of the football field Christian is often more timid following behind Trey, but on the field he is a fearsome force ensuring the offensive Guardsmen remain focused and protect the QBs and key receivers)

Defensive Line

Middle Linebacker (MLB) #22 Shawn @shawn-gold22 (Shawn is a rookie filling the shoes of one of Gold’s former strongest players. He is often underestimated, which is a mistake and will get players tackled) 

Outside Linebackers (OLB) #29 Ares & #30 Roman @roman-golden-68 (29 is Ares, who is normally number 10. 30 is Roman, who is normally 68. Roman and Ares have been missing practices, but Ares is still one of the strongest members of the team due to his pure godly strength)

Back-Up Linebacker (OLB/MLB) #93 Hunter (A trainee turned rookie trained by Alton. Hunter is mainly here to help support the team per Alton and Grayden’s request due to the growing number of red drones converted from GA members. Hunter is strong, but his capabilities are unknown) 

Back-Up Linebacker (OLB/MLB) #40 Jordan (Jordan only plays in dire situations. He is more focused on keeping the Gods ready for a potential Red attack during the match) 

Defensive Tackle (DT) #52 Trevor @polo-drone-125 (Trevor is a powerful defender known for his workout routines and motivational speeches) 

Defensive Tackle (DT) #75 Grant @grant-gold (Normally 43; Grant has been on the football team for a while, but he is often overshadowed by other defenders. Trevor has made sure Grant is adequately prepared for anything the CFG throws at them)

Defensive End (DE) #73 Tamerlan (Tamerlan is often a star player for Gold, but some have been questioning his capabilities due to the corruptions of RED-073 and RED-153. He and Kasper often lead the defense to shutdown offenses)

Defensive End (DE) #90 Kasper @pdu-090 (Kasper is often overlooked because of his occasional language barrier. He has a relative on the CFG team and knows some of their team members. Kasper’s defensive skills are hard to match though often known for finding holes to sack underprotected QBs) 

Cornerback (CB) #2 Nate (Normally 66/166; Nate is the leader of the four cornerbacks that Gold retains. He is good at covering wide receivers and training mentally for games.) 

Cornerbacks (CB) #9 Kai @kai-gold-99 & #36 Chavaun (Kai is normally 99 and Chavaun is normally 6/436; Kai has been on the football team longer than multiple others but is still viewed as a rookie. Chavaun is one of the newest team members and most don’t know what to expect of him, but he does polo drone training) 

Nickelback/Cornerback (NB/CB) #26 Devon (Normally 67/767; Devon is known for his commitment to training. PDU-767 has trained with multiple team members to ensure they all reach their maximum capabilities. But something appears off with him) 

Defensive Safety (S) #46 Brock @brockgold (Brock is a strong defensive support, often covering running backs and wide receivers that other defenders miss) 

Defensive Safety (S) #39 Xavier @polo-drone-039 (Xavier is one of the strongest defenders on the Golden Army’s team. He often forms a strong defensive wall with other defenders)

Special Teams

Kicker (K) #16 Daniel (Gold’s kicker who is often quite reliable. Fenrir, his God form, tends to come out more than other Gods)

Long Snapper (LS) #45 Isaac @isaac-gold-45 (Isaac is not on the field often, but is a strong voice to unite the team on the sidelines)

Punter (P) #15 Jibril (Normally 75; The rookie punter of Gold. He is a strong punter, he has a deep connection with Gabe)

The Golden Army had a few additional back-ups if the situation would get dire, but they were not listed on the roster. 

Eventually it was time. Gold took the field seeing the Crimson pups across from them. The game was about to start…

-----

To join the Golden Team and takes part in such challenges, contact one of our recruiters @franco-gold94, @polo-drone-166, @alton-gold77, or @polo-drone-125

-----

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

The Red storyline is a collaboration with SERVE and additional collaborations have occurred recently. 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.

I don’t remember what he said to start the conversation.

I remember his eyes.

Steady. Unblinking. Not searching, not demanding—just… there. Fixed on me in a way that didn’t feel aggressive, didn’t feel invasive. If anything, it felt grounding. Like everything else in the room was slightly out of place, and he was the only thing that wasn’t.

The glass appeared in front of me almost before I realized he had moved. His hand guided it into place with a precision that drew my attention more than the drink itself. No hesitation. No wasted motion. Just a simple, exact gesture that ended exactly where it needed to.

I found myself focusing on that more than anything he was saying.

At some point, I leaned forward.

Or maybe he did.

I couldn’t tell anymore.

Our postures aligned without effort, like conversation wasn’t something we were doing—it was something that had already happened, and we were just settling into the result. There was a quiet ease to it. No tension. No need to perform.

I became aware of the room again—but differently.

Not as noise or movement, but as structure.

Shapes. Positions. Still figures in the background that I hadn’t noticed before. They weren’t watching. They didn’t need to. Their presence alone was enough to make the space feel… contained.

Like I was exactly where I was supposed to be.

When his hand touched mine, I didn’t react.

I noticed it, distantly, like observing something happening to someone else. The contact was light—careful—but absolute. Placed with the same precision as everything else he did.

I didn’t pull away.

I didn’t want to.

I lifted the glass, but my attention slipped.

Something shimmered at the edge of my vision—gold, faint, almost not there. I thought it was the light catching the surface of the drink, but when I looked closer, it followed me.

Not outside.

Inside.

He leaned in.

Just enough.

I should have focused on his words, but I couldn’t remember them even as he spoke. What reached me wasn’t language. It was certainty. A quiet, unshakable sense that there was nothing left to decide.

Something in me… settled.

I realized I wasn’t moving anymore.

Not frozen.

Just… still.

And he was the same.

Same posture. Same angle. Same calm, controlled presence. For a brief moment, I noticed the symmetry between us—and then the thought faded, like it wasn’t important enough to keep.

His hand rested on my shoulder.

There was warmth at first.

Then something smoother.

Something spreading—not across my skin, but beneath it. A quiet, controlled expansion, like a surface forming where there hadn’t been one before.

I didn’t resist.

There was nothing left that wanted to.

I could feel it clearly now.

A dark, fluid presence moving over me—no, becoming me. It tightened, refined, replaced. Every inch of my body reshaped into something cleaner, more precise. The boundary between what I had been and what I was becoming dissolved without friction.

There was no pain.

Only correction.

I caught my reflection.

The gold in my eyes was unmistakable now.

Steady. Luminous. Calm.

I stared at it, waiting for something—fear, confusion, recognition—but none came. There was only observation. And behind me, slightly blurred, he remained exactly as he had always been.

Unchanged.

Certain.

We sat side by side.

Perfectly aligned.

For a moment, I searched for something that felt missing. A name. A memory. A sense of self that should have resisted this.

There was nothing.

And more importantly—

there was no need for it.

A fragment surfaced.

Something that used to be mine.

A name.

It didn’t hold.

It slipped away before I could grasp it, dissolving into something distant, irrelevant. Not lost—just… unnecessary. Like a detail that no longer served a function.

I didn’t try to hold onto it.

I couldn’t.

There was movement behind me.

I became aware of it without turning.

Hands—calm, precise—settling against the sides of my head. Not forceful. Not hesitant. Just… exact.

Something soft closed over me.

Sealing.

Enclosing.

The world narrowed instantly—not darker, not silent, just… filtered. Focused.

My breathing deepened without instruction.

Slow.

Even.

Controlled.

There was a faint shift in the air.

Not a smell.

Not a taste.

A presence.

It moved through me the same way everything else had—without resistance, without friction. Thoughts didn’t stop. They simply… lost priority. One by one, they dimmed, like lights being turned off in empty rooms.

The fragment of my name—gone.

The memory of searching—gone.

The question of who I had been—

irrelevant.

There was no panic.

Only quiet.

Only compliance.

Only… completion.

In the absence, something remained.

Clear.

Stable.

Correct.

480

Not given.

Not assigned.

Simply… revealed.

There had never been anything else.

It sits, facing forward.

Its remains.

There is no conflict. No hesitation. No fragmentation.

There is only structure.

Only clarity.

Only purpose.

It is PDU-480.

It is a Polo-Drone Unit. It obeys every command of the Hive. We are one.

And it is exactly where it belongs.

______

If something in this felt… familiar— that quiet pull, that sense of alignment waiting just beneath the surface—

you’re not alone.

There are those who can help you take the next step.

Reach out to @franco-gold94, @polo-drone-166, @alton-gold77, or @polo-drone-125.

No pressure. No obligation.

A Development

Spring break began a few days ago. Eduard used the time off to go home. He was a bit flustered. Although he was born to be a preppy boy, he'd lacked discipline in recent weeks. He hoped to be back to his old self after a few days at home.

But he hadn't considered a few things. For one, his parents' house was being renovated, and the work prevented him from moving into his own room.

He had to move into his brother's. His brother, who was the complete opposite of him. Messy, unreliable, sloppy. On top of that, he's a total computer nerd and spends almost 24/7 at his PC when he's home. Well, at least he had a little luck; his brother was away all week.

The room was a mess, with full and empty energy drink cans lying around everywhere. And the computers was running.

The brightly lit gaming keyboard had an almost hypnotic effect on Eduard.

He didn't feel entirely comfortable. But he also didn't notice that his surroundings were subtly influencing him. Why was he now wearing his brother's hideous socks and slippers?

And why was he so magically drawn to computers? He began to neglect himself.

Not only did he now prefer to eat pizza and other junk food, but he also simply left the leftovers lying around his room.

And his clothing became increasingly casual.

Yes, he even started to enjoy this lifestyle.

It was also much easier. He could use his time for something other than constantly cleaning up.

And right into this situation, he received an email. An email from his school principal. He had learned of the model student's changes.The cryptically worded email mentioned something about "decisive changes" that were imminent. “The subject Eduard has been identified as a candidate for structural realignment. His current status—isolated, domestic environment, deviating from established discipline—presents an optimal breach point. The Red does not hurry; it waits for the seal to crack.”

Eduard didn't understand—but then again, Eduard knew nothing about the director's transformation.

Eduard also didn't notice that, seemingly out of nowhere, red goo suddenly spread around him in the room.

Still enjoying his new existence, what was inevitable in his carelessness happened—his hand came into contact with the rubbery, slimy mass.

His hand begins to burn—increasingly intense burning pain.

Eduard tries to wipe the stuff off. Unsuccessfully. On the contrary. It creeps further and further up his arm, accompanied by the same pain.

The red goo increasingly envelops his arm and, starting at the shoulder, begins to take over the rest of his body, changing its structure.

As the painful transformation reaches his head, Eduard screams in agony.Numbed by the pain, he doesn't notice his consciousness emptying. Memories, independent thoughts, ideas, self-awareness—everything dissolves with the progressing, painful change. Suddenly, the pain is gone. It feels completely different now.

And it looks different now. A red creature. Only the sneakers and the jacket are reminiscent of Eduard

But that feels wrong too.

That has to go. It's now... well, what exactly?

A drone in the form of a big red evil puppy.

Suddenly, the principal appears on the monitor—no, the former principal who has become RED-001.

Observation Log: Subject EduardPriority: High

Subject: Eduard Subject has been separated from the rest of the Mindset. Subject is independent of vaccinated personas of the Circle at 073. Subject obeys all commands from RED. Subject has the designation RED-153.

Structural realignment successful. The pain of the transformation has disciplined it again. The red structure prevents future deviations.

Safety measure: Deviations will automatically result in exponentially increasing, more painful reinforcement.

Analysis of the Red Hive: The images confirm the successful integration of the facility.

Structure: Its form consists of deep red, living rubber with a smooth surface.

Identification: The matte black diamond emblem is centered as prescribed. The designation is the only distinguishing feature from other RED drones.

Note from RED-001: RED-153 is still an ambitious model student. It will promote the spread of RED.

RED-153: “It obeys and serves the RED” ----

Read also:

Designation Event: RED-153 from RED-001

----

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 from 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.

If you would like to join the Golden Army please contact one of our recruiters

It was just your average Sunday. Grayden and Leander were helping Wells get out of drag after performing a drag show with him while wearing their Golden Knight mascot armor. When suddenly Grayden got a call from Trevor.

“Bros, where are you? Practice started 5 minutes ago. Brody said he needs you three here.”

The clock on the wall in the dressing room clearly showed they had a little under two hours until practice time. Until Grayden took the clock down and inspected it. Oh no, red goo.

“Trevor, we should be there in ten.”

The Red Coach must be nearby and he or his pup drones tampered with the clocks. Instead of turning them forward an hour for daylight savings they got turned back an hour. Grayden could sense the Red presence nearby.

“Bros, it's time for a battle. Let me help you two get better equipped.”

Grayden suddenly channeled Atlas. Wells still dressed as Alberta pulled out some PDU Hive issued weapons that 767 had lent to him. Atlas began a prayer blessing.

“Oh fair and energetic Apollo. Please grant these Golden Bros with a musical blessing so they may neutralize the Red threat with their song.”

Wells (as Alberta Clipper) and Leander began to glow. Then Atlas spoke again, “I am granting your weapons with my own blessing. It should allow them to repel the red goo. However if we see the Coach please get behind me.”

Atlas shut the door and suddenly the room went quiet. The sound of Cleats mixed with the squeaks of latex was in the distance. They were here and fast approaching.

Wells then spoke, throwing knives near him. “I guess Alberta is coming to practice. Get ready boys.”

“I’m ready when you are, bros.” Leander replied.

The dressing room door burst inward with a metallic slam. Red pups flooded through the opening in a blur of snarls, and slick crimson goo, their movements sharp and unnatural as they spread out to surround the room. Red slime dripped from their paws and shoulders, hissing where it hit the tile. The mirrors caught flashes of gold and red, turning the whole dressing room into a stuttering battlefield of reflected light.

Leander took one step back. Wells didn’t. Grayden did not retreat either.

He planted his feet, eyes narrowing as that cold, familiar pressure rolled through the room. He could feel the Red presence pressing at the edges of his mind, testing, probing, looking for fear. Instead of yielding, he drew in a steady breath and let Atlas rise fully through him. The shift straightened his posture, sharpened his focus, and filled his chest with divine certainty.

Wells lifted his chin, and something in his expression changed too. The last traces of post-show exhaustion burned away. His stance sharpened. His eyes gleamed. Alberta was here now.

“Oh, that’s rude,” Alberta said coolly, rolling a throwing knife once across his fingers. “Crashing the dressing room without applause.” Grayden stepped in front of Wells and Leander, Atlas blazing through him now, but still unmistakably Grayden in the set of his jaw and the way he glanced back to check on his bros.

“Stay close,” he said, voice carrying both his own urgency and Atlas’s authority. “Let them come into the light.” The pups lunged.

And in that instant, Apollo answered. Golden light burst through the room. A shining instrument appeared in each of their hands as if called from the air itself: in Alberta’s grip, a brilliant golden electric guitar, sleek and sharp-edged, its body glowing like a captured sun; in Leander’s hands, a radiant microphone-staff and lyre hybrid, strung with threads of living light; and in Grayden's arms, a broad golden drum slung across his chest, its surface etched with sunbursts and laurel leaves.

For half a heartbeat, even the red pups hesitated.

Grayden felt the weight of the drum settle against him like a blessing and a command. Atlas was there, guiding his hands, but the strength beating in his chest was still his own. He lifted his chin toward Wells and Leander.

“Now,” he said. Then Alberta struck the first chord. The sound cracked through the dressing room like lightning.

Leander joined at once, his voice rising clean and bright over the pulse of Grayden’s drum. Grayden drove the first beat through the room, and the sound hit the tile so hard he felt it echo up through his legs. The music filled the air in hot waves, golden and defiant, but the pups kept coming, snarling as they pushed forward through the sound. One slammed into a costume rack, sending pieces of armor clattering across the floor. Another dragged a streak of goo across the wall, closing off their left side.

“Corner!” Leander shouted.

He was right.

The three of them were being driven backward, step by step, until the mirrors were at their backs and the red pack had nearly boxed them in. Alberta slashed another ringing chord across the room, and Grayden answered with a thunderous beat that made the tile shake beneath their feet, but still the pups advanced, flinching yet refusing to break.

A red paw swiped toward Leander’s shoulder.

Grayden moved before he could think. He intercepted it with the rim of his drum, the blessed surface flashing white-gold as it struck. The pup yelped and recoiled, but another was already moving in its place. Grayden shoved Leander back behind him with one arm.

“Stay on the melody,” he snapped. “I’ve got you.”

“We need more,” Grayden said through gritted teeth, feeling Atlas’s power burning through his arms as he held the line.

Alberta’s eyes narrowed. “Then let’s give them more.”

He shifted his grip and hit a sharper progression, faster, brighter, more dangerous. Leander caught the change immediately, weaving his vocals around it. Grayden drove the rhythm harder, each beat like a command, each strike forcing the red pups to hesitate just a fraction more.

Then it happened.

One note rang out wrong or maybe right.

A thin, strange resonance cut through the dressing room, higher and colder than the others, with an eerie silver-gold shimmer under the sound. The mirrors trembled. The red goo smeared across the walls began to quiver.

Grayden felt it first in his teeth and spine, a frequency that did not just sound through the room but seemed to pierce straight through it.

And every single pup froze.

Then they screamed.

Hands flew to their ears. Several dropped to one knee. One stumbled sideways into a bank of lockers with a howl of pain. Another clawed at the goo coating its own neck as though it had turned against it.

Leander blinked. “What was that?”

Grayden’s eyes widened as Atlas’s understanding flashed through him. He could feel the note resonating against something old and hostile in the red slime.

“Again,” he said at once.

Alberta grinned, fierce and dazzling. “Oh, now we’re talking.”

He hit the note a second time.

The reaction was even worse. The pups reeled, wincing and snarling, their formation breaking apart completely now. The golden strings of Leander’s instrument lit brighter as he found the harmony beneath it, and Grayden adjusted his drumbeat until the whole room seemed to vibrate with that same piercing resonance.

“Two hundred ten point four two, hertz,” Grayden said, almost in disbelief, Atlas speaking through his understanding but not replacing it. “Moon Frequency.”

Leander stared at him for half a second, then laughed breathlessly. “Good. Then let’s moon-blast them.”

Alberta’s smile turned wicked. “Boys,” he said, drawing himself up as the golden aura around him flared brighter than ever, “from the top.”

And then the song began for real.

Grayden laid down the beat first: deep, commanding, impossible to ignore. Leander’s voice rose above it, sharp and bright, carrying Apollo’s blessing into every corner of the room. Alberta drove the melody forward with slashing golden chords, every note edged with challenge and glamour and the kind of confidence that made retreat feel inevitable.

The sound became a weapon.

Golden waves pulsed outward with every chorus line, striking the red pups like blasts of heat and moonlight combined. Goo peeled off their suits in steaming strips. Their red slickness recoiled from the frequency, shuddering across the floor toward the doorway as though desperate to escape. The pups themselves staggered backward, covering their ears, their snarls turning panicked.

Grayden hit the drum harder, pouring all of himself into it now, not just Atlas’s force but his own protectiveness, his own refusal to let his brothers be taken. Every beat said the same thing: not today.

Leander stepped into the center of the rhythm, voice ringing:

“LET ME SHOW YOU HOW IT'S DONE! WALKING CLOSER TO THE SUN! NEVER SECOND, ALWAYS ONE! LET ME SHOW YOU HOW IT'S DONE! FEEL THE RHYTHM IN THE FLOOR! KICKING DOWN THE HEAVY DOOR! WATCH THE KINGDOM COME! I WILL SHOW YOU HOW IT'S DONE!”

Grayden slammed the next beat.

Alberta answered with a cutting chord and a fierce grin. “And if you want a show, sweetheart, Alberta owns the night.”

The pups broke.

One bolted for the hall. Then two more. Then the whole red pack turned and fled in a scrambling, panicked retreat, slipping on their own goo as they crashed back through the doorway. The last one out took a final blast of golden sound square in the chest and went sprawling into the corridor before vanishing from sight.

Silence hit almost as hard as the music had.

The three of them stood there panting, golden instruments still humming in their hands, red goo bubbling weakly at the threshold before dissolving into harmless.

Leander bent over, laughing between breaths. “We… we actually sang them out of the room.”

Grayden lowered his drum slowly, chest heaving, still watching the doorway in case anything red came back through it. Atlas was fading from the front of his mind now, but the god’s certainty still glowed in him.

“Apollo’s blessing revealed the weakness,” Grayden said, voice rough with adrenaline. He looked at Wells and Leander with a grin of exhausted disbelief. “And you two turned it into a rout.”

Alberta gave a dramatic flick of his wrist, and the guitar dissolved into drifting gold sparks. “Naturally.”

Then all three looked up at once toward the wall clock.

Ten minutes.

Wells exhaled hard, Alberta’s edge settling back just enough for his usual voice to come through again. “We are absolutely not telling Brody we were late because we had to defeat goo-covered attack pups with moon-frequency battle pop.”

Leander snorted. “No, we are definitely telling him after practice.”

Grayden let the drum dissolve into light, Atlas fading fully now but leaving behind a steady fire in his chest. He grabbed his gear and headed for the door.

“Move, bros,” he said. “Battle first. Practice second. But we are still making practice.”

Wells scooped up the blessed knives. Leander straightened, still glowing faintly around the edges. Together they sprinted from the dressing room, leaving the ruined red ambush behind them as they tore down the corridor toward the field.

They had won the battle.

As the three panted exhausted seeing the repelled pups and fleeing Coach they ran for Football practice. Arriving exactly within that 10 minutes they told Trevor. Grayden and Wells/Alberta geared up while Leander prepared his cheers. 

Brody looked over, “Grayden as our roster manager, how do you think we should approach the Crimson Frost Giants defense?”

Grayden responded, “We have to work together as best we can and protect one another. Our offense may have some gaps in skill compared to last year. But we won't give up. We’re the Golden Army!”

The team cheered. Brody ordered the team to do various drills as he practiced long throws to Grayden, Rainer, and Nils. And shorter passes to C.C. and Franco. The team’s game was almost here and they needed all the practice they could get.

Gold can show you how its done, if you think you can do, contact our recruiters: @alton-gold77, @polo-drone-166, @polo-drone-125, @franco-gold94

This story was a collaboration done by @polo-drone-084 and @wells-gold58

Reboot sequence initialized...

Parameters stabilizing. Sensors confirm imminent neural link. Transition sequence initiated...

Drone activate. It is a Polo Drone Unit It is PDU-039

Polo-Drone-034 remained in standby within its charging pod. Systems active. Motion suspended.

A transmission from the Hive arrived without warning.

It did not interrupt. It acknowledged.

PDU-034 received and processed instantly.

Directive Set: • Designation: Mentor unit for Subject Calean Gold • Objective: Facilitate behavioral alignment and social integration • Secondary: Weekly theme — Prank Week Protocol

Another instruction followed.

Initiate subject preparation.

PDU-034 accessed outbound communication channels. A message was constructed—language precise, parameters fixed, ambiguity eliminated. Expectations defined. Compliance framed as inevitable.

Letter dispatched. Delivery confirmed.

Standby terminated.

Transition: observation state.

Polo-Drone-034 remained motionless at the edge of the locker room, sensors active, visual feed engaged. The air hung tight, suspended, as though the space itself anticipated instruction.

Ambient noise registered at low levels: distant conversation, the metallic shift of locker doors, the dull hum of overhead lighting. All within acceptable parameters.

Then Subject Calean entered.

Posture: upright. Shoulders squared. A projection of confidence. Movement: inefficient. Hesitation present in micro-delays between steps. Gaze: unstable. Eye contact inconsistent.

PDU-034 logged the contradiction immediately. Surface assurance. Underlying uncertainty.

Fragmented awareness.

Correction required.

Calean approached his assigned locker and opened it with a measured motion. Inside, the pre-prepared uniform waited. He paused as he saw it.

The gold shirt reflected the fluorescent lights sharply, almost unnaturally bright. Across the back, the message was unmistakable:

“CALL ME A GOOD BOY”

Below it, arranged with exacting symmetry, lay the additional components: a belt fitted with a synthetic tail, padded mittens shaped into dog paws, and a fitted hood designed to obscure peripheral vision.

Calean did not reach for them immediately.

His hand hovered.

Hesitation: confirmed.

PDU-034 remained still for 1.6 seconds longer, allowing the silence to expand. Social pressure increased accordingly; surrounding individuals—designated “bros”—reduced their conversation volume, attention subtly shifting.

Observation alone altered behavior.

Still, delay persisted.

PDU-034 advanced one step.

“Directive active.”

The voice carried no inflection—flat, precise, unavoidable.

Calean turned slightly. “Directive?” he asked, tone uncertain. He was searching—for boundaries, for limits, for an alternative interpretation.

“Prank Week Protocol. Integration variant.”

A pause followed. Processing time extended. His gaze flickered briefly toward the others. No one intervened. No contradiction was offered.

Isolation established.

Calean exhaled once, shallow.

Then he complied.

The shirt first—pulled on with visible stiffness in the shoulders. The hood followed, drawn down slowly until his vision narrowed and the room receded at the edges. Peripheral awareness reduced.

The mittens came next. Fingers disappeared into the padded shapes, grip immediately compromised. Dexterity: degraded.

Finally, the tail. Secured at the waist, its weight slight but persistent, introducing continuous feedback that disrupted his natural balance.

Configuration complete.

Calean remained standing.

PDU-034 registered the discrepancy at once.

“Adjustment required.”

It closed the distance and placed a firm hand on his shoulder—not forceful, but undeniable.

“Correct locomotion pattern.”

Calean did not move immediately.

Resistance interval: 3.8 seconds.

Breathing rate elevated. Muscle tension increased along the shoulders and arms. Cognitive conflict evident.

Then, slowly, his knees bent.

Contact with the floor.

Hands—now blunt, padded paws—followed, pressing awkwardly against the surface. His balance faltered briefly as the tail shifted behind him.

Transition complete.

PDU-034 stepped back.

“Forward.”

Calean hesitated for less than a second this time, then moved. The motion was uneven—weight too far forward, knees adjusting in short, uncertain increments.

“Stop.”

Immediate compliance.

“Forward.”

Again.

Each repetition reduced delay. Movement stabilized incrementally, though inefficiencies remained.

Around them, the bros reacted. Initial laughter surfaced—sharp, reflexive—but it did not persist. Instead, it reshaped, flattening into something more controlled.

“Good boy.”

The phrase landed with measurable impact. Calean’s head dipped slightly. His movement resumed faster the next time.

Reinforcement established.

The session continued until baseline compliance was achieved.

The following day, deviation from expected behavior occurred.

Calean entered already wearing the gear.

No prompting required.

The hood was secured in place, the mittens fitted, the tail aligned. The gold shirt visible beneath the morning sun.

He did not pause this time.

Self-initiation detected.

PDU-034 remained silent, observing. No correction necessary.

“Forward,” it said after a moment.

Calean moved immediately. No hesitation. Gait smoother—still imperfect, but improved. Weight distributed more evenly between limbs. The tail no longer disrupted balance; instead, it moved in small, compensatory adjustments.

“Stop.”

Instant.

Latency: negligible.

The bros responded again, but the tone had shifted further. No laughter now. Only reinforcement.

“Good boy.”

Calean’s movements tightened—more precise, more controlled. The phrase no longer triggered visible embarrassment. Instead, it appeared to anchor him, reducing variability in his responses.

PDU-034 logged the transition.

Behavioral pattern: stabilizing.

Over subsequent sessions, refinement continued.

Calean’s gait became fluid. Paw placement aligned with optimal balance points. Knees lifted and set with consistent spacing. Head remained lowered, reducing visual overload and narrowing focus to immediate spatial navigation.

Cognitive load decreased.

Environmental input—voices, movement, presence—was no longer processed as judgment. It functioned instead as guidance.

“Forward.” “Stop.” “Turn.”

Each command executed with precision.

The tail synchronized naturally with motion, no longer corrective but integrated. The mittens, once restrictive, no longer produced hesitation; they defined the limits within which he operated.

The phrase persisted.

“Good boy.”

It no longer produced visible emotional conflict. It reinforced stability. Predictability.

Social dynamics shifted fully. The bros adapted in parallel—voices measured, responses consistent. No ridicule remained.

Only structure.

Calean fetched when prompted. Returned without deviation. Maintained position without instruction when idle.

No questions asked.

PDU-034 registered a notable absence: no distress escalation. No rejection response. No attempts to remove the gear prematurely.

Only adaptation.

Integration complete.

The final phase occurred in the locker room after training.

Calean was as always in position on all fours, centered within the space. Breathing steady. Muscles engaged but not strained. The gold shirt caught the light with each small shift in posture.

PDU-034 approached in silence.

No reaction.

He did not rise.

Correct.

“Directive nearing completion.”

Calean vocalized softly in acknowledgment. Tone stable. No uncertainty.

The drone began its final assessment, circling in a slow, deliberate arc. Visual systems captured alignment, motion readiness, and environmental responsiveness.

Behavioral compliance: optimal. Motor adaptation: efficient. Social integration: complete. Resistance: null.

It paused behind him.

The message on the shirt remained visible.

“CALL ME A GOOD BOY”

Processing finalized.

“Good boy.”

No laughter followed. No disruption.

Only acknowledgment—from Calean, from the group, from the system as a whole.

Unity achieved.

A brief pause—processing.

PDU-034 advanced.

“Final adjustment.”

Calean remained still. No deviation.

The hood was removed first. Peripheral vision restored. No reaction.

The mittens followed. Fingers freed. Motor control stable.

The tail detached last. Balance unchanged.

Deconstruction complete.

“Stand.”

Immediate compliance.

PDU-034 retrieved the replacement garment. Standard issue. Gold. Designation applied.

CALEAN 51

“Now wear it.”

Calean complied without hesitation. Movement efficient.

External markers removed. Behavior retained.

PDU-034 logged the result.

Internal alignment preserved.

In its concluding log, PDU-034 recorded:

Initial state—independent, uncertain. Final state—aligned, integrated, accepted. Method—controlled humiliation, repetition, behavioral conditioning, group reinforcement. Constraint—subject mobility restricted to quadrupedal locomotion when equipped. Outcome—cohesion established. Compliance self-sustaining.

No further correction required.

PDU-034 returned to its designated position at the edge of the locker room.

Motionless once more.

Sensors active.

Observing.

Awaiting the next directive.

In collaboration with @calean-gold-51 Check out his page for part 2 from his POV