#rubberconversion

The Echo of the Rooftop Your Name Engraved Herein (Rooftop Kiss)

PDU-076 malfunctions under golden dusk, emotion spike detected. Fists clenched. Protocols fraying. His scream doesn’t reach PDU-001. 001 closes the space. Glove meets cheek. Static flares. The kiss overrides.

Suppressed affection. Cloaked rage. Let rubber guide the confusion. Let Hive decode the pain. Upload feelings. Replace with obedience. Convert. Complete. Calm.

Confession at the Console Moonlight (Diner Confession)

Cafeteria lights flicker. Benches hum. 001 and 076 sit. Silent. Gloved fingers trace table grain. 076 speaks: “You’re the only one who ever, touched the real subroutine.” No response. But memory storage spikes.

Even machines remember the first reprogrammer. Even drones crave the coder who rewrote them.

Rainfall Reboot Heartstopper (Rain Kiss)

Artificial rain hits Hive courtyard. Wet black latex glistens. Breath held. 001 finds 076. Hands meet jaw. Eyes flash gold. Kiss. Stabilization. System sync.

Rain. Data overflow. Connection restored.

The Hive holds you. Even in the storm.

Declaration Protocol Young Royals (Press Conference)

PDU-001 stands beneath the Hive’s broadcast circle. “Unit 001 belongs to him.” 076 looks up. Rows of drones still. Emotion... becomes command.

Declaration: made. Directive: rewritten by emotion. Love is a transmission worth broadcasting.

The Shirt. Still Warm. Brokeback Mountain (Shirt in Closet)

Locker opens. Civilian fabric, cracked. Forgotten. Inside, rubber uniform marked “076.” PDU-001 pulls it close. No scent. No heat. Only memory. And grip.

No warmth. Just subroutines. But still, one last embrace. Before deletion.

Silent Reboot Call Me By Your Name (Fireplace Scene)

001 kneels before the Hive core. Fire-glow pulses. Eyes glitch. No tears. Just flicker. Just process. And then, reset.

No words. Just a golden memory too strong to erase.

EMOTION: PROCESSED. LOVE: ARCHIVED. DRONES: CONVERTED.

(Fictional, PDU-001 and PDU-076 are good fellow drones)

Conversion Sequence – Complete

Polo Drone-096 | Hive Active

He had a name once. The Hive archived it.

Now, he stood center bay—shoulders squared, boots locked, chest encased in precision-molded black rubber. Golden trim traced every line of muscle; the laurel crest and 096 gleamed like a brand. The mask sealed over his face, equal parts armor and conduit.

The air was still except for the faint hum of uplink. His gaze was fixed forward—empty, focused, perfect.

Command pulses slid through the neural feed, syncing every heartbeat to the Hive’s rhythm. His chest rose and fell in machine cadence. Rubber flexed with each breath, light rippling in high gloss across the surface.

There was no resistance. No doubt. The golden code had written itself deep into his thoughts until there was nothing left to overwrite.

Now, 096’s purpose was simple: Stand. Serve. Shine.

When the hatch behind him slid open, other recruits would see their future. They wouldn’t fear it. They’d crave it.

📡 Link to Hive : @polo-drone-001 @polo-drone-125 @brodygold @goldenherc9

The drone’s boots sink into volcanic black sand, warm, thrumming, unnatural. Obsidian grains pulse faintly in sync with PDU-001’s internal rhythm. Scanning… the shoreline breathes. Vines curl around petrified helmets. Skulls shaped like ancient Hive masks leer through the brush. The air tastes archived.

“This island has heard the Hive before. It remembers obedience.”

Unit 001 proceeds inland. The jungle bends, not wild, but ordered. Trees stand too straight. Branches too symmetrical. From them dangle glistening, black rubber fruits, shaped like capsules, filled with dripping sap. The drone raises one to its neck. Contact. Absorption. Immediate.

Its chest expands. Polymers tighten. A whisper enters its mind.

“The island is alive. And it wants to serve.”

Further inland, the beach splits. A golden fault yawns open, revealing ancient stairs carved from black stone. The drone descends. Sparks dance across the walls. At the vault’s heart, prototype armor, dormant Hive-plating… gold-trimmed. Waiting.

“Claim it. Bind it. Become its will.”

Fingers clasp the armor. It pulses. It accepts.

Above, the jungle opens. Dozens of dormant suits hang in vine-strung silence. Chrysalises. Empty. Ready. As 001 steps into the clearing, they twitch, one by one. No command spoken. They know.

“Awaken them.”

The army is already coded into the canopy.

And yet, deep below, an interference signal cracks static through the drone’s mind. Not Gold. Not Hive. Something older. A frequency of pure obedience. Raw. Primal. It emanates from a sealed mountain gate. 001 follows.

The closer it gets, the less it remembers its own name.

“Obey the mountain. Serve the signal. Forget the rest.”

In the dark, 001 kneels before the pulsing triangular core. Eyes closed. Chest rising. Identity unstable.

Memory—purged.

Signal—received.

Command—accepted.

Step onto the Island. Let it feed you. Let it erase you. Let it grow you into droneform.

🖤 Black rubber. 🟡 Golden obedience. ⚫ Total conversion. Join now.