Wells Gold

Begin Log: 14.07.2026

PDU-767 had three assignments:

*TASK NODE 1: Drone practicing watersports -

*TASK NODE 2: DRONE and What if drone lives in a universe where it is smaller than those who live there? -

*TASK NODE 3: ALTERNATIVE UNIVERSES Week -

**GUEST STAR: Gabe Gold #75 - @polo-drone-075 Wells Gold #58 - @wells-gold58 PDU-436 - NPC

In PDU-090's fantasy world, wealth was no longer measured in how many things a person owned. Wealth was having clean water, healthy food, a warm home, good neighbors and time for both work, sports and adventure. The old days of buy, use and throw away were over. Back then, entire kitchens were discarded because the color had become unfashionable. Clothes were thrown away after a few uses, and good building materials ended up as waste. In PDU-090's world, everything was examined, repaired and used again. A person or a small family could get by on about 1,000 square meters of land. It was not a huge property, but the land was planned so that every part had multiple purposes.---- PDU-090's house was on the outskirts of the Golden City. It was built from materials from the local area. The foundation consisted of fieldstones that had previously been laid in old stone walls. The strong structure of the house was built from wood from nearby forests, where new trees were planted for each tree that was felled. The walls were made of wood, clay, straw and plant fibers. They could retain heat in winter and keep the house cool in summer. The roof was covered with grass, herbs and small flowers. It collected rainwater, provided space for insects and protected the roof from the heat of the sun. The old building practices had returned, but they did not stand alone. Inside the walls of the house was advanced nanotechnology. Microscopic systems distributed the heat from the mass kiln throughout the house. In summer, excess heat was conducted into the ground and stored for the cold months. Nanotechnology also controlled lighting, cooling and air quality without large machines or noisy fans.

The windows collected energy from the sunlight. When darkness fell, the walls and ceilings glowed with a pleasant golden glow. The system could repair minor surface damage and alert PDU-090 if a beam, a water pipe or a filter needed to be checked. But the technology did not control the humans. It merely assisted them.--- PDU-090 was a human PDU drone, not a machine or a robot. He was part of a disciplined community where the drones wore black suits made of natural rubber with golden numbers. On his chest and back was the number 090. For a drone, clothing was simple. In the greenhouse grew a rubber tree that produced natural latex. The material was carefully harvested, cleaned and processed in the community workshop. Here, suits, boots, gloves, gaskets and waterproof safety equipment were made. When a rubber suit was worn out, it was not thrown away. A crack was repaired, a zipper was replaced, and old material was used for smaller parts. Nothing was discarded without first being examined. Vegetables grew at various heights around the house. Potatoes, onions, carrots, and beets grew in the ground. Beans and peas climbed up trellises. Cabbage, lettuce, and herbs filled the beds between the fruit trees. Chickens roamed freely under the apple, pear, and plum trees. They ate insects and leftovers from the vegetable garden. In return, they provided eggs and manure. Rabbits lived in large, safe areas with grass, tunnels, and small houses. They were an important source of protein, and their manure could be used directly in the garden.

Behind the greenhouse was a small pond with fish. The water was pumped through basins of vegetables and edible plants. The plant roots cleaned the water, while the nutrients from the fish helped the plants grow.--- Some families raised trout. Others had carp or various local fish species. The most important thing was that the farming suited the climate, the amount of water and the food that could be produced on site. Feed was not transported across half continents. It was made from plants, insects and scraps from the area. One morning PDU-090 received a message from Alton Gold #77. An old farm on the other side of the fjord was to be converted into a new centre for sports, crafts and adventure. The farm had been empty for many years, but its beams and stone walls were still strong.

PDU-090 packed tools, safety gear, and provisions into his transport craft. It could drive on land, sail on water, and fly over areas where roads would harm nature. The craft resembled a cross between a van, a small boat, and a compact airplane. Its wheels could be retracted when it sailed, and short wings unfolded when it needed to fly. Its power came from sunlight, wind, and small, efficient energy storage. There was no loud noise or black smoke. PDU-034, PDU-039, and PDU-125 were already waiting at the craft. Alton Gold #77 and Wells #58 arrived shortly after

“Did we remember the tools?” Wells asked. “Yes,” PDU-034 replied. “Did we remember the food?” PDU-090 lifted a box of bread, vegetables, eggs, and smoked fish. Wells nodded in satisfaction. “Then the mission can begin.” They drove through the forest until the road ended at the fjord. Here the craft continued straight out onto the water. On the other side, it rose above a wetland, avoiding destroying plants and animal tracks. The old farm was on a hill overlooking the water. The farmhouse had a large kitchen and a common room. The barn was tall enough for climbing, gymnastics, and indoor ball games. The old outbuildings could be used as workshops. PDU-090 examined one of the large oak beams. “It’s hundreds of years old,” he said. “It doesn’t need to be replaced just because it’s old.” A local craftsman explained that the beam had only minor damage to it. It could be repaired with new oak and a traditional wood joinery. That was how things worked in this world. You didn’t tear down an entire building because of a single bad part. The Golden Army planned to use the farm as a gathering place. There would be no football, rugby, archery or training. There would be routes for running, mountain biking and orienteering in the forest.

At the fjord, members could go kayaking, paddleboarding, swimming, diving and sailing. There would also be space for fishing and nature education. Sport was not just about competition. It created strength, discipline and community. In the evening, everyone gathered around a long table in the courtyard. Wells and PDU-070 had cooked food from local vegetables, eggs, bread and fish. Some played music. Others told stories from past adventures. Children learned old games, while young members showed pictures from the day's flight over the fjord. There was still entertainment in this world. People had music, movies, games, parties and sports. The difference was that entertainment did not replace community. It brought people together. PDU-090 looked out over the courtyard. The old buildings were not yet finished, but the place was already alive. This world was not a return to a time without technology. It was a world where old knowledge and new technology worked together. In 1,000 square meters, one could create food, heat, clothing, rent water and a safe home. But no one had to live alone. Neighbors shared tools, experiences and surpluses from their gardens. Craftsmen learned their skills further, and new members were welcomed. PDU-090 wrote the last line in today's mission report:

The Gentle Giant

In another universe, Brock Gold #46 had always stood over twelve feet tall. Visitors noticed his size first. Those who knew him remembered something else entirely—his kindness.

Every Golden Bro remembered the first time they met Brock.

It was impossible not to.

Long before anyone saw his smile, they saw the towering figure in shimmering gold standing above the crowd. His custom-made Golden Army kit gleamed in the sunlight, the number 46 stretched proudly across his broad shoulders.

To strangers, he looked intimidating.

To his teammates...

He was simply Brock.

As the Golden Army arrived for its annual community fitness festival, curious visitors stopped to stare.

Some whispered.

Some pointed.

Some simply watched in amazement.

Brock smiled and waved to every one of them.

He had learned long ago that the best first impression wasn't his height.

It was his kindness.

The festival had barely begun when volunteers struggled to raise the main event banner.

Ladders weren't quite tall enough.

The supports refused to cooperate.

Without saying a word, Brock stepped forward.

He carefully lifted the banner high above his head while volunteers secured each corner.

Moments later, a delivery truck arrived filled with bottled water, footballs, tables, and equipment.

Brock began unloading the heavy supplies one careful box at a time.

Several Golden Bros hurried over.

"We've got it from here!"

Brock smiled.

"We've all got it."

Working together, the truck was empty within minutes.

To Brock...

Strength wasn't about showing what one person could do.

It was about making everyone else's job easier.

As the afternoon continued, Brock noticed a young man standing alone near one of the football pitches.

"I don't think I'd fit in," the newcomer admitted.

Brock smiled.

"You know..."

"A lot of people think I don't fit in either."

The young man looked up.

"But you're Brock."

"And you're..."

He glanced toward Brock's towering frame.

Brock laughed.

"I know."

"I'm hard to miss."

Then he knelt until they were nearly eye level.

"People notice my height."

"But my friends?"

"They notice whether I helped someone."

"They notice whether I encouraged someone."

"They notice whether I left things better than I found them."

He offered his hand.

"Come on."

"Let's meet the Bros."

By the end of the afternoon, the newcomer wasn't standing alone anymore.

As the sun dipped toward the horizon, a local reporter approached Brock.

"Brock..."

"What's it like being the biggest man in the city?"

He looked across the park.

Golden Bros packed away equipment.

Volunteers folded tables.

The newcomer laughed with his new teammates.

Finally, Brock answered.

"I stopped measuring life by height a long time ago."

"What matters..."

"...is how you lift other people."

The reporter smiled.

"I don't think anyone here will remember how tall you are."

Brock looked across the festival one last time.

"I hope they remember how we made them feel."

As the Golden Army headed home together beneath the golden evening sky...

Brock still stood head and shoulders above everyone else.

Yet somehow...

He had always found a way to stand beside them.

Every man has something that makes him stand out. True brotherhood isn't about fitting in—it's about lifting each other up. If you're ready to grow, encourage others, and become the best version of yourself, there's a place for you in the Golden Army. Together, we rise. Together, we stand.

The convoy had now left Malmö, and spirits were high. After all the trouble, PDU-073 had finally settled into the little Fiat. The over two-meter-tall drone was sitting snugly with its head up through the sunroof, while everyone else was amused by the sight. "This is the only way I can be in the car," laughed PDU-073. Behind the wheel was an Alpine engine, which gave the little Fiat far more power than you would think. The little car kept up surprisingly well with the rest of the convoy. Brother Izzy 45 was still sitting there telling stories about Sweden. "So we have to remember Systembolaget. That's where you buy strong beer and spirits." PDU-039 was sitting next to him and was completely in heaven above the Italian sports car. "I never get tired of that engine sound." In front, PDU-090 drove the big truck with a calm hand. Right behind followed the Volvo F16 with PDU-034, and at the back came Rhys 19 in his A-tractor with the water tanks on the bed. After a few hours of driving, the entire convoy turned into a gas station.

All the vehicles were refueled, and the engines were given a short break. But Izzy had spotted something. "Beer!" He disappeared into the store, while the others laughed. Shortly after, he returned with a six-pack. He immediately opened a can. "Cheers!" He took a big sip. For a moment he was completely silent. "Well... it's only light beer!" Everyone burst into laughter. "Welcome to Sweden," said PDU-034 with a laugh. While the cars were being refueled, the PDU drones filled their depots with sandwiches, juice and water. Gold Brothers found coffee, soda and something sweet for the rest of the trip. Shortly after, the convoy continued north without any problems.

The landscape became greener, the forests denser and the roads more open. After some time, PDU-090 looked at the navigation. "Now we only have about 20 Swedish miles left." Alton nodded. "Then we'd better find some dinner... and afterwards a real Systembolag." Soon after, they found a cozy café. Some ordered the hot dish of the day. Others went straight for hotdogs with toasted sausages, bread, shrimp salad and all. Cold drinks were placed on the tables, and everyone enjoyed the warm Swedish summer evening. Fortunately, PDU-090 had remembered to buy mosquito spray. "We'll be glad for that later." Meanwhile, PDU-073 sat with a face that had become almost as red as a boiled crayfish after a long day in the sun. "You should have used sunscreen earlier," smiled PDU-039.-

He immediately put on sunscreen, while the rest of the team teased him affectionately. Then they went to Systembolaget. Here, Izzy and PDU-090 were practically in heaven. They studied the shelves with interest. Dark strong beer was bought for the PDU drones and golden beer for the Gold Brothers. At the same time, they looked curiously at the selection of spirits. PDU-034 remarked: "There's only one place you can buy strong alcohol here." He continued: "On the other hand, a lot of spirits are actually cheaper here than I had expected." The only problem was the space. There was almost no more room in the cars. Rhys came over smiling. "Calm down... The A-tractor still has room on the bed." Everyone laughed.

Perfect." Shortly after, the entire convoy continued towards Anderstorp Raceway. Four motorcycle riders rode together through the Swedish forests, while the tall PDU-073 followed on his small motorcycle. Upon arrival, they were shown a good spot close to the workshops. The tents were quickly set up. Izzy had his fridge set up for drinks. The camper was uncoupled. Alton #77, Daniel #16 and Wells #58 shared a tent. PDU-034 and Rhys got their own. Izzy set up the mobile camp bar, while Rhys 19 received thorough training in how the camp worked. Meanwhile, PDU-090, PDU-039, Alton #77 and Daniel #16 got their motorcycles ready. PDU-073 carefully went through his little motorcycle from front to back. Soon after, the whole team did some quiet practice laps on the racetrack. Everything worked perfectly. No accidents. Everyone returned to camp safely.----

A little later, they could hear the sound of the engine from the go-kart track. Alton smiled. "Daniel... I'll beat you there." "You think so." The whole group walked over. Izzy pulled a small cart with cold drinks and snacks while Rhys continued his training. Everyone was given safety equipment.

Helmet. Neck collar. Gloves. Then the start. After three heats the results were announced. To everyone's surprise, Alton or Daniel were not at the top. PDU-090 PDU-034 PDU-039 Right after came PDU-073, Wells #58, Rhys 19, Izzy #45, Alton #77 and Daniel #16. "I didn't expect that," laughed Daniel. "We have to practice."---- Back at the campsite, a fire was lit. PDU-039 found the guitar. Wells #58 and PDU-073 sang along. Izzy and Rhys made sure everyone had both wet and dry food. The conversation continued for a long time on the bright Swedish summer evening. With the fire almost out, PDU-090 wrote the last line of today's mission report: "Day two completed. The trip to Anderstorp was a success. New experiences, good camaraderie, lots of laughs and another day where the Gold Brothers and the PDU drones worked as one team. Tomorrow new adventures await on the racetrack."

Strap on, ass out, bros.

This is your sign to throw on that jock, show your hole, and fully join the revolution.

Flex hard, get strapped, get fucked — no thoughts, just pure himbo bliss.

Who’s ready to get their cheeks out and serve for the bros?

Drop your jock pics, ass shots, or just tell me how bad you’re leaking for it already 😈

Rhys and the Bridge Dream

After a long afternoon of kayaking with the PDU and Golden Bros, Rhys fell into bed with pleasantly aching arms. Remembering the moment he'd been paddling beneath an old bridge, laughing at the light-hearted prank of a golden brother. The next, he was fast asleep.

His dream began with the sound of rushing water.

He stood beside a sparkling river, watching a little wooden bridge stretching across it. Everything looked strangely familiar, yet brighter, almost painted. Wildflowers covered the hills, and somewhere in the distance came the cheerful sound of bells.

Then he heard hooves.

A small white goat trotted confidently toward the bridge.

"Trip, trap, trip, trap..."

Rhys grinned.

"The Billy Goats Gruff..."

He leaned on his paddle, curious to see the old fairy tale play out. Just as he remembered, a shaggy troll burst from beneath the bridge.

"Who's that trip-trapping over my bridge?"

The smallest goat answered bravely, promising a bigger goat would come along soon. The troll scratched his chin, decided to wait, and let him pass.

"So far, just like the story," Rhys whispered.

Then the largest goat appeared with massive horns and thick shoulders. Calm eyes.

The troll roared and charged.

Only this time... everything changed. His yellow eyes swung away from the big goat... and locked onto Rhys.

"There!" the troll bellowed. "A human! Much tastier than goat!"

"Whoa, that's not in the story!" Rhys cried out.

The troll lunged.

Rhys fought his fight or flight reflex as the troll was almost on top of him.

Suddenly—

THUD!

The biggest Billy Goat Gruff slammed into the troll like a battering ram.

The troll tumbled across the bridge with a howl.

Before he could recover, the goat charged again with equal power.

With one final splash, the troll disappeared into the river below.

Silence.

Rhys laughed, still catching his breath.

"I thought you were supposed to be saving yourselves."

The great goat gave a slow nod.

"Sometimes stories change."

The smallest goat skipped over and nudged Rhys's hand.

The three goats continued over the bridge together, and this time Rhys walked beside them instead of watching from afar.

As they climbed the hill, the morning sun grew brighter and brighter until it became...

...sunlight through his bedroom curtains.

Rhys opened his eyes with a smile as he saw PDU-090 and the rest of the bros and drones.

‐-----------------------------------

Are you interested in the Golden Army, the Gold Brothers, and the PDU Unites? We are always happy to welcome new members who would like to become part of our community, adventures, and creative projects.

For more information, contact:

@alton-gold77

On a bright summer morning, Rhys-Gold 19 gathered with PDU-090, PDU-034, and the other Golden Bros beside a fast-flowing river. Sunlight sparkled on the water, and the roar of the rapids echoed through the tall pine forest. Everyone had trained hard for the day's kayaking adventure, but farther downstream stood an old wooden bridge that the local villagers often spoke about.

"They say no one passes beneath that bridge without being challenged," PDU-034 said with a grin.

Rhys laughed and tightened his grip on the paddle.

"Sounds like an old folktale."

They pushed their kayaks into the current and let the cold water carry them downstream. At first, the journey was peaceful. They glided between rocks, navigated gentle rapids, and enjoyed the fresh forest air. Birds sang high above the treetops while the river wound through the lush green valley.

After a while, they spotted the old bridge. Covered in moss, it looked as though it had stood there for centuries. Just as Rhys paddled beneath it, a deep voice echoed overhead.

"Who is paddling beneath my bridge?"

Rhys looked up in surprise, but he couldn't see anyone.

"It's only Rhys-Gold 19," he replied with a laugh. "But behind me comes PDU-090. He's an even better paddler than I am."

Silence followed.

Rhys drifted onward, smiling to himself.

A few minutes later, PDU-090 reached the bridge.

Once again, the same deep voice called out.

"Who is paddling beneath my bridge?"

PDU-090 smiled calmly.

"My brothers and I are simply out on an adventure. But wait a moment—the rest of our team will be here soon."

Suddenly, laughter rang out from above.

A young Gold Bro leaned over the railing and waved.

"I couldn't resist!" he said. "I just wanted to see if anyone still remembered The Three Billy Goats Gruff."

Everyone burst into laughter.

Rhys paddled back, and before long the group had gathered along the riverbank. They spent a while talking about the stories they had heard as children. Rhys smiled, thinking that the landscape almost made those old legends feel real again.

After their break, they continued downstream.

This stretch of river was much faster. Water rushed between towering rocks, and the kayaks danced through foaming whitewater. Rhys followed PDU-090's line and made it through the most difficult rapid without striking a single rock.

When everyone reached the calmer water below, they raised their paddles high into the air.

"We made it!" Rhys shouted.

PDU-034 paddled over and tapped paddles with him in celebration.

PDU-090 smiled.

"The best thing about old stories is that they can still inspire new adventures."

The sun now stood high above the forest. The river widened and flowed gently between green riverbanks. Far behind them, the old bridge slowly disappeared from view, yet they could still imagine the echo of that mysterious voice.

Rhys looked toward the next bend in the river.

"I wonder what's waiting around the corner," he said.

No one knew the answer, and that was perfectly fine. The unknown had always been part of every great adventure.

Together, the Gold Brothers and the PDU brothers continued paddling through the beautiful wilderness. They laughed, helped one another through the rapids, and enjoyed every moment on the water. Perhaps another old legend awaited them around the next bend, or perhaps they would create a brand-new story—one that someone else would one day remember with the same affection as the timeless folktales of the North. After all, the destination mattered less than the journey itself, shared with friendship, courage, and the spirit of adventure.

Are you interested in the Golden Army, the Gold Brothers, and the PDU Brothers? We are always happy to welcome new members who would like to become part of our community, adventures, and creative projects.

For more information, contact:

@alton-gold77

The Golden Standard

In another universe, Brock Gold #46 had always been Captain of the Golden Army. Under his leadership, the Army became known not only for its athletes, but for the lives its members touched. Around the city, people spoke of the Golden Standard—a way of leading through encouragement, service, and example.

Every summer, the Golden Army hosted its biggest event of the year.

Not a championship.

Not a parade.

A community festival dedicated to helping young men discover their potential.

Before sunrise, volunteers were already setting up football pitches, fitness stations, charity booths, and outdoor classrooms. Local organizations filled the park, offering workshops on health, education, volunteering, and personal growth. Families wandered between tents while children kicked footballs across the grass.

Captain Brock Gold #46 arrived long before the gates opened.

Not to inspect the event.

To help build it.

He carried folding tables alongside new recruits, unloaded water bottles from delivery trucks, and thanked every volunteer who had given up their Saturday morning.

To Brock, leadership wasn't standing at the front.

It was making sure no one carried the load alone.

As visitors poured into the park, Golden Bros spread across the grounds.

Some coached football clinics.

Others demonstrated fitness exercises.

Several packed food hampers for local charities.

Wherever someone needed help, a Gold jersey was never far away.

Near the obstacle course, Brock noticed a young man standing quietly behind the crowd.

He looked strong enough.

Healthy enough.

But something held him back.

Brock walked over with a smile.

"Thinking about giving it a try?"

The young man shrugged.

"I don't think I'd fit in."

"Why not?"

"I'm not athletic like you guys."

"I've never played football."

"I'd probably just slow everyone down."

Brock looked toward the course where Golden Bros of every skill level encouraged participants instead of racing ahead.

"Can I tell you a secret?"

The young man nodded.

"The Golden Army isn't built on the strongest men."

"It's built on men who help each other become stronger."

He extended his hand.

"So..."

"Let's do the course together."

They started slowly.

Whenever the young man struggled over an obstacle, Brock offered encouragement instead of criticism.

When he hesitated, Brock waited.

When he succeeded, Brock celebrated every small victory.

By the finish line, something had changed.

The young man wasn't smiling because he'd completed the course.

He was smiling because someone had believed he could.

An hour later, Brock spotted the young man again.

This time he wasn't at the back of the line.

He was helping another newcomer across the very same obstacle.

Brock simply smiled.

That...

...was the Golden Standard.

Throughout the afternoon, similar moments unfolded everywhere.

Golden Bros coached children.

Volunteers packed food hampers.

Experienced athletes encouraged beginners through their first workout.

No one cared who was the fastest.

Success was measured by how many people left believing in themselves.

Leadership had become contagious.|

As evening approached, the crowd gathered before the main stage.

Many expected Captain Brock to speak about victory.

Or discipline.

Instead, he looked across the thousands gathered before him.

"The Golden Army isn't measured by how many members it has."

"It's measured by how many people leave believing they can become the best version of themselves."

The crowd fell silent.

"If you never wear one of our gold jerseys..."

"...but you leave today determined to encourage someone else..."

"...then today was already a success."

As the sun dipped below the horizon, a local reporter approached him.

"Captain Brock..."

"What is the Golden Standard?"

Brock smiled.

"It's simple."

"Leave every person you meet a little stronger..."

"...a little more hopeful..."

"...and a little more confident than when you found them."

"If we can do that..."

"...we're already winning."

And perhaps that was why, in this alternate universe, men didn't join the Golden Army because someone convinced them.

They joined because they had seen the kind of men they hoped to become.

he Golden Standard isn't about being the strongest—it's about helping others become their best. If you're looking for a brotherhood built on encouragement, teamwork, growth, and leading by example, there's a place for you in the Golden Army. Together, we rise. Together, we inspire.

Do you want to join? Contact our recruiters: @alton-gold77 or @polo-drone-125

PDU-090 had been looking forward to this day for weeks. Once the work was done and the day’s duties were over, it was time to get out on the water. For PDU-090, the sea was not just a place to relax – it was a place where discipline, teamwork and adventure met. At the Golden Army Marina, the others were already ready. The Gold Brothers and the PDU drones went through the safety equipment, checked life jackets, radios and the weather forecast. Safety always came before speed and excitement. The sea had to be respected, no matter how experienced you were.

The first activity of the day was sea kayaking. PDU-090 glided calmly through the water, while the morning sun reflected in the fjord. The waves were rhythmic, and the silence was broken only by the seagulls and the sound of the kayak cutting through the water. Kayaking required endurance, technique and concentration – exactly the qualities a Polo Drone worked with every single day. After the kayaking trip, the paddleboards were put in the water. Several new members tried the sport for the first time. Gold Brothers showed the basic techniques, while PDU-090 helped with balance exercises and explained how to get back up safely after a fall. There was a lot of laughter as several ended up in the water, but everyone quickly got back up with a smile.

The next activity was open water swimming. PDU-090 put on the black dry suit and swam a longer route along the coast. The water was cool but clear, and beneath the surface you could see kelp forests, small fish and crabs. Swimming in nature was a completely different experience than in a swimming pool. You learned to read the current, the waves and the wind. Then it was time for diving. Together with a small team, PDU-090 went below the surface to explore life on the seabed. Starfish, mussels and large kelp forests moved slowly with the current. A curious fish swam close by, the sunlight forming golden streaks through the water. Diving was not about speed, but about calm, respect and curiosity.

For lunch, everyone gathered at the sailboat. The barbecue was lit, food and stories from previous sailing trips were shared. The experienced sailors told stories of long voyages through Scandinavia, while the new members listened with interest. The community grew around the table, and everyone quickly became part of the group. In the afternoon, the sails were set. The wind was perfect, and the boat glided smoothly through the fjord. PDU-090 helped trim the sails, keep the course and teach the new members the most important commands. Sailing required cooperation – no one could handle the whole boat alone. When the wind picked up, the wakeboard was found. After a few attempts, PDU-090 managed to get up behind the boat and glide across the water. Several Gold Brothers also tried, and there was applause and cheering every time a new participant managed to keep their balance a little longer.

Later, some tried water skiing, while others continued with kayaking or paddle boarding. The whole day showed how many different ways one could experience the water. Kayaking, swimming, diving, sailing, paddle boarding, wakeboarding and water skiing each provided their own challenges and experiences. Water sports range from calm nature experiences to more fast-paced activities. Before the sun went down, PDU-090 took out the fishing rod from the sailboat. The sea had always been a special place. Fishing was not only about catching something, but also about patience, silence and enjoying nature. After a short time, a mackerel nibbled on the hook, and dinner was assured.

The morning began early at the Golden Army camp. The day before, CAP Brody and Grayden had visited the team and wished them all good luck. Their words were still ringing in the ears of both the Gold Brothers and the PDU brothers. Now one of the first big mountain days of the race awaited. Ahead of the riders lay 166.6 kilometers with several tough climbs, where the favorites for the yellow jersey were expected to attack. PDU-090 stood in front of the route map, along with PDU-034, PDU-039, PDU-070 and PDU-073. “It’s going to be a long day,” said PDU-090. “Today is not about sprints. Today is about keeping the riders together for as long as possible.

The Gold Brothers nodded. Alton #77 knew the mountains suited him well, but he also knew that even the strongest captain needed a team around him. Wells #58 smiled. “As long as we stick together, anything can happen.” The starting gun went off and the peloton rolled along calmly. The first few kilometers were relatively peaceful, but everyone knew that the real battle would not begin until later in the day. As the peloton approached the Côte de Pailherols, the pace began to pick up. Several smaller teams tried to send riders into a breakaway. The Golden Army let them go. Jordan #40 and Shawn #22 controlled the gap, while Franco #94 and Felix #32 made sure to protect Alton from the wind. On the next climbs, the race became increasingly selective. The Col de la Griffoul and Col de Prat de Bouc were hard on the legs. Spectators lined the roads, cheering on all the riders, regardless of which team they were riding for.

Behind the scenes, the PDU brothers worked just as hard. PDU-034 kept track of spare wheels and extra bikes. PDU-039 coordinated the radio communications between the service cars. PDU-070 prepared food bags, energy bars and bottles at the planned zones. PDU-073 checked the safety of the team trucks and made sure that the mechanics could work quickly if problems arose. PDU-090 followed the race the whole time on maps and radio. "Keep service car number two ready. The mountains are coming soon now." Everyone knew their task. No one waited for a second word.

The morning briefing at Golden Army headquarters began with an unusual task. Captain Brody smiled as he looked around the room. "Today's Golden Prompt asks a simple question," he said. "What if you suddenly found yourself in a universe where everyone was either much bigger or much smaller than you?" The room immediately filled with laughter. PDU-070 raised a hand. "So... are we talking about giant coffee cups?" "Possibly," Brody replied. PDU-039 smiled. "Or small motorcycles?" "Also possible." PDU-090 activated the mission tablet. "Field exercise approved." Within moments, the team stepped through a dimensional training portal created for today's simulation. The first universe looked almost identical to Earth - except for one detail. Everyone who lived there was barely six inches tall. The Gold Brothers and the PDU brothers remained of normal human size. The moment they arrived, they discovered that just walking required incredible caution.

"Watch your step!" PDU-034 shouted. Entire villages were nestled among blades of grass. Flowers were taller than buildings. A puddle looked like a lake. A garden path became a highway. The small inhabitants welcomed the visitors with enthusiasm. To them, the newcomers looked like friendly giants. A small boy pointed at PDU-073. "He's taller than our town hall!" PDU-073 knelt down carefully on one knee. Even that movement created enough wind to make several small flags flutter. "I think I just caused today's weather," he whispered. Everyone laughed. Lunch was another adventure. One sandwich could feed an entire neighborhood. One apple made enough fruit for hundreds of families. Meanwhile, the little chefs proudly served tea in cups no bigger than bottle caps. PDU-070 accepted one with two fingers. "I got bigger ice cubes." The little chef crossed his arms. "That's our biggest mug." Everyone burst into laughter again. Transportation proved even stranger. The local train was shorter than one of PDU-090's boots. The little mayor proudly invited the Golden Army aboard. Unfortunately, only one finger could fit through the doorway.

I think we're going," Wells said. Later, they visited a sports stadium. Thousands of cheering spectators filled the stands. The entire arena could have fit into a corner of a normal soccer field. The local soccer players challenged the Gold Brothers to a friendly match. Instead of participating in the match, they became goalposts. "It seems safer," Alton laughed. That evening, the small townspeople thanked the visitors for being careful, respectful, and friendly. Size, they explained, did not determine friendship. Respect did. The portal activated again. This time, the destination was completely different. Now the members of the Golden Army were only six inches tall. Everything around them had become enormous. The grass resembled bamboo forests. A squirrel seemed to be as big as an elephant.

A butterfly sounded like a helicopter. The first challenge came almost immediately. A normal staircase. Each step reached above PDU-090's shoulders. PDU-034 looked up. "We're going to need climbing gear." Coffee presented another problem. The mug was taller than a house. PDU-070 leaned over the edge. "I can smell it." "Can you reach it?" "No.

Breakfast was just as hilarious. A blueberry was the size of a beach ball. A slice of bread turned into an entire picnic area. A single French fry required four brothers to carry it. PDU-039 laughed. "I've never needed a logistics plan for lunch before." Crossing a kitchen floor turned into an expedition. A chair leg looked like a tree trunk. Shoelaces looked like suspension bridges. A sleeping cat took up the entire horizon. Fortunately, the cat only yawned before returning to its nap. Everyone agreed that it was the scariest yawn they had ever seen

It was starting to rain outside. Normally, rain didn't matter much. Here, every raindrop landed like a water balloon. The brothers quickly hid under a large leaf. PDU-073 looked up. "I suddenly understand why insects rush." Even simple doors became impossible. A normal door handle hung several meters above their heads. Instead, they discovered a mouse hole that became their tunnel. The local giant family finally noticed the little visitors. Instead of being afraid, they carefully lowered a small basket to help everyone climb onto the table. The giants smiled warmly. A child carefully placed small sandwiches, fruit, and water next to the Golden Army.

Even in a world where everyone seemed unimaginably large, kindness did not require any special size. In the evening, the portal brought everyone safely back to headquarters. Captain Brody gathered the team. "Today's mission taught something important." PDU-090 nodded. "When we are bigger, we must remember how easily we can influence others." Alton smiled. "And when we are smaller, we discover that courage is not dependent on height." PDU-125 added the final observation. "The universe may change our size, but it never changes the importance of respect, teamwork, and helping each other." Everyone agreed. Whether they were giants or small, the Gold Brothers and the PDU brothers worked best together. That was the real lesson behind today's Golden Prompt

"I can't believe we wore the same thing, bro," said Alton.

Shawn groaned. "Dude, you make that joke at least once a week."

"Yeah, but it's funny every time," Alton said, his eyes dancing mischievously, and Shawn had to concede that his teammate had a point. Alton just had that inherent charm and charisma that meant he could tell the corniest joke and no matter how hard you tried to resist, your mouth would betray you by curling upwards into a grin.

They had turned out to a sports bar downtown. They'd planned to watch the match live in the stadium, but Shawn had made the mistake of entrusting the booking of the tickets to Alton, and Alton - well, Alton had forgotten. He might have been charming as hell, but he could also be kind of a flake sometimes.

He'd felt bad about it though, and done his best to make up for it by finding a way for them to watch the Argentina v. Switzerland World Cup quarter-final in style. Not only had he reserved the best table at Shawn's favourite sports bar, he'd also turned up with two full Argentina kits for them to wear as they watched, personalised for their favourite player - Lionel Messi.

They'd headed into the bathroom together to get changed, and as they'd emerged from their respective cubicles in their pack-fresh blue-and-white jerseys and black shorts, Shawn had caught sight of their reflections in the mirror and thought they'd looked pretty hot like this.

"Bro, we look hot!" Alton had said happily, like he'd been reading Shawn's mind. He had, typically, stared into the mirror and made a micro-adjustment to his hair, despite the fact that it had been, as it always was, perfectly groomed. "C'mon, we don't want to miss the beginning."

Although they weren't at the stadium, Shawn was forced to admit that the atmosphere in the bar was pretty electric - and that there were lots of girls, and guys, sneaking looks at the two hot professional athletes in their Argentina uniforms. Shawn did his best to pretend he didn't notice, while Alton did the exact opposite, making sure he caught the eye of everyone who was looking at him, winking or blowing a kiss in return. He was enjoying that little game so much that he almost forgot to watch the game right in front of him, until Shawn elbowed him in the ribs just as Alexis Mac Allister was approaching the goal at the 10 minute mark, and put Argentina a goal ahead.

The feeling of euphoria saw them through the first 45 minutes of the game and into the half time break, only to subside when Switzerland's Dan Ndoye equalised in the 67th minute. Despite the boys' increasingly raucous cheers for their chosen team, no further goals were forthcoming and the match remained tied at the end of regular time. His own anxiety spiking, Shawn could tell Alton was nervous too from the way his teammate's grip around his waist was growing tighter and tighter. Would this game that had begun so triumphantly end in a crushing defeat - maybe in a penalty shootout, arguably the worst and most humiliating way to lose?

They enduring the agonising stalemate as the additional minutes played out slowly until, as if all their prayers had been answered, Julián Alvarez fired the ball into the net again, pulling Argentina one goal ahead. Shawn and Alton leapt out of their seats in elation, screaming and hugging each other tightly - a ritual they performed again nine minutes later when Lautaro Martínez scored Argentina's third goal of the match, securing victory for La Albiceleste.

As the celebrations erupted around them from the room full of fellow fans, Shawn and Alton looked deep into each other's eyes and everything else seemed to melt away. Shawn suddenly remembered how hot Alton had looked in his Argentina kit when he first saw him, and the look on Alton's face told him all he needed to know. He leaned in for a kiss, which Alton hungrily reciprocated, and the two of them collapsed back onto a chair, hands roving fearlessly over and under each other's shirts and shorts.

Shawn wasn't sure how much later it was when he finally came up for air, but if he had to bet, he would have said at least three hours. (It was two minutes.) He could feel Alton's tight, muscular body beneath him, straining against the taut fabric of his football kit, and Shawn knew that if they didn't get out of there soon, he was going to be in a lot of trouble.

"Do you want to take this somewhere more private?" he whispered.

"Damn right I do," murmured Alton. "Come on, boy. Let's go back to my place, and I'm gonna make you really, really... Messi."

Guest starring @alton-gold77

The sun had only just risen over Denmark when PDU-090, PDU-039 and Isaac #45 got ready for the trip to Sweden. In front of them was the old Fiat 500 Alpine from 1963, painted in black and gold. The little car had a spoiler kit, wide wheels, a large folding roof and a rebuilt engine with about 80 horsepower. Behind the Fiat was a Camp-let quickly rigged with tents, sleeping bags, tools, food and two motorcycles: PDU-090’s BMW S1000 Sport and PDU-039’s Ducati. PDU-090 checked the towbar and straps one last time. PDU-039 made sure the Ducati was secure while Isaac put the cooler inside. “Is there coffee?” asked 090. “Yes.” “Water?” "Yes." "And something for a thirsty brother," said Isaac. PDU-039 shook his head. "We haven't even driven yet. And in Sweden it's called Systembolaget, not Vinmonopolet." "I know," replied Isaac. "Brother just gets thirsty in several languages." PDU-090 started the Fiat. The small engine woke up with a surprisingly loud sound, and they headed for the Øresund Bridge. Several drivers smiled when they saw the small black-and-gold car towing a Camp-let with two large sports motorcycles. On the bridge, the sea glinted below them, while Malmö loomed on the horizon. "It won't be a normal weekend," said PDU-039. "That wasn't the plan either," replied 090.

In Malmö, they stopped near Turning Torso to have coffee and stretch their legs. Just as PDU-090 parked, Isaac spotted a group of familiar faces. PDU-070 was standing with coffee and a bag of cinnamon buns. Next to him stood the six-foot-tall PDU-073, along with Wells #58, Daniel-Gold #16, and Alton #77. No one had arranged to meet. “Denmark has arrived!” Wells shouted. They greeted each other with handshakes, hugs, and laughter. Daniel walked around the Fiat and looked at the spoiler kit. “Did I really drive from Denmark in that little car with two motorcycles on the back?” “It’s got 80 horsepower,” 090 said. “It’s small, but wild,” Alton said. “Just like Wells,” Isaac added. While they ate cinnamon buns, PDU-090 noticed that Wells, Daniel, and Alton kept looking up at Turning Torso. Finally, Wells pulled out a large black and gold Golden Army badge. “We thought Sweden’s tallest building could use a little more gold,” Alton said. PDU-070 sighed. “I already said no.” “Where do I put it?” 039 asked. Wells pointed up at the building. “Somewhere where everyone can see it.” PDU-073 looked up. “Even I can’t reach it.” “We can put you on top of the Fiat,” Daniel suggested. “No,” PDU-090 said immediately. Just then, a heavy diesel engine roared. A large Volvo truck turned into the square, PDU-034’s bag at the wheel.

PDU-034 calmly got out of the Volvo truck. He greeted PDU-090, PDU-039, and Isaac, then looked at Wells, Daniel, and Alton with the Golden Army badge. He looked at the badge. Then at Turning Torso. Then he opened the door of the truck and took out some kind of riding crop. He rested it against his boot. "No," he said. Alton immediately began to roll up the badge. "We haven't done anything." "Not yet," 034 replied. "It's art," Wells said. "It's vandalism," 034 said. "That's not how you behave in Sweden." He gave the whip a little whack against the boot. Daniel raised his hands. "Fine. We're not putting it in the house." "You hold the badge between you and take a picture on the ground." They agreed. The whole group stood in front of Turning Torso while a Swedish tourist took the picture. The Golden Army badge was clearly visible, but nothing was attached to the building. “A good picture and no Swedish policemen,” said PDU-034. “It’s less exciting,” said Daniel. “But much easier,” replied 090. Just as they started to pack up, another loud engine sound came from the other side of the square. A red custom-built motorcycle came speeding along with a yellow Ferrari badge on the tank. It was built with a reworked Ferrari engine. PDU-039 stopped in mid-motion. “Ferrari engine,” he said, walking straight towards the machine.

The Swedish owner stopped the motorcycle, and PDU-039 immediately began to examine the engine suspension, cooling, exhaust and gearbox. “How did you get the engine to fit in the frame?” he asked. “With many hours of work and more mistakes than I care to admit,” the owner replied. When the engine was started again, the sound echoed between the buildings. PDU-039 smiled broadly. “The Ducati is still number one,” he said. “But this one is completely crazy.” “We’ve lost ham,” said Wells. “He’s moving in with the motorcycle,” added Daniel. PDU-090 put a hand on 039’s shoulder. “Come on. We’re going on towards Anderstorp.” The owner promised to maybe drop by the racetrack later that weekend. Only then could PDU-090 get 039 back to the Fiat. Now the next problem arose. PDU-073 needed transportation because the car he had gotten into was going in a different direction. “You have to come with us,” said 090. PDU-073 looked at the little Fiat. “It’s physically impossible.” “We’ll find a way.” PDU-039 sat in the front, Isaac shuffled around the bags in the back, and PDU-073 tried to get in. His knees hit the seats and his head pressed against the canvas roof. PDU-090 rolled back the hood. PDU-073 stuck his head and shoulders up through the open roof. “There you go,” said 090. “Now there’s room.” “My head’s outside the car.” “You’ll get some fresh air.” Wells started laughing. “The world’s first Fiat 500 with a built-in lookout tower!” PDU-034 got into the Volvo truck with PDU-070 next to him. Wells, Daniel and Alton split up into the other vehicles. The small Golden Army convoy left Malmö with the Fiat, the Camp-light, the two motorcycles and PDU-073’s head sticking up through the hood. The trip to Anderstorp Raceway had begun.

After Malmö the Golden Army convoy continued north through Sweden. PDU-034 drove through the forest in the large Volvo truck with PDU-070 next to him, while PDU-090 followed in the small black and gold Fiat 500 Alpine. The Camp-light with the BMW S1000 Sport and PDU-039’s Ducati lay stable behind the car. Inside the Fiat it had become very cramped. PDU-039 was in the passenger seat, Isaac #45 was wedged between the bags in the back, and PDU-073 still had his head and shoulders up through the open hood. His blond hair fluttered in the wind, and every time they drove through a small Swedish town, people turned and waved. “They think I’m a tourist attraction,” 073 said. “You’re the tallest sight after Turning Torso,” PDU-039 replied. Isaac leaned forward between the seats. “Can you see a Systembolaget from up there?” PDU-039 turned in surprise. “You said it right.” “Brorsan learns quickly.” “It only took the whole trip from Denmark.” As they approached a railroad crossing, the warning lights began to flash. The column stopped, and a Swedish train came running on the left track. PDU-073 followed the train with his eyes. "There it is again." "What?" asked 090. "It's on the wrong side." "It's on the Swedish side." "But trains should go on the right." PDU-039 looked up at him through the hood. "You're sitting with your head outside the roof of a 1963 Fiat. Maybe you shouldn't decide what looks normal." Even PDU-073 started laughing. When the barriers went up, they continued. The road led through open fields, small forests and villages with red wooden houses. Suddenly, an old green tractor came driving down a side road. Behind the tractor was a wagon with firewood, barbecue equipment, tent poles and camping chairs. Rhys sat sadly at the wheel. PDU-090 flashed his lights, and the entire column stopped at a small rest area. “Of course you’ll get a tractor,” Wells #58 said as he got out of the car further back. Rhys smiled. “I thought I might need some firewood and extra equipment at Anderstorp.” Wells walked over to the wagon and looked between the boxes. “Do you have coffee?” “Yes.” “Then you’re a guest.” Daniel-Gold #16 found a large bag of Swedish cinnamon buns, while Alton #77 discovered a cooler of cold drinks. Isaac stuck his head over his shoulder. “Is there anything from Vinmonopolet?” Everyone fell silent. PDU-039 closed his eyes. “You just learned.” “I was confused by the tractor.” PDU-034 stood by the Volvo truck, his riding crop under his arm.

"Water first. The rest can wait until after the drive." Isaac obediently took a bottle of water. "This is apparently how a thirsty brother behaves in Sweden."

Further on, the group found a small rest area by a Swedish lake. PDU-034 drove the Volvo truck into the shade, Rhys parked the tractor on a flat area, and PDU-090 parked the Fiat with the Camp-let near a table. PDU-073 had to get out of the car first. That proved to be more difficult than getting him in. One of his boots was stuck between the front seat and the door. His knee hit the dashboard, and when he tried to turn his body, his shoulders quickly settled into the opening under the hood. "Turn left," Wells suggested. "No, the other left," Daniel said. "Try to pull your stomach in," Alton added. PDU-073 looked down at them. “I can hear you.”

PDU-090 opens the door fully while PDU-039 moves a few bags. Finally, 073 manages to get out. He straightens his long body and stretches his legs. "I'll be lying on the roof for the rest of the trip." "That won't be legal anymore," said PDU-034. PDU-070 finds crispbread, butter, cheese, and coffee. The group sits down by the lake, their motorcycles still securely strapped to the Camp-let. Isaac had walked down to the water when he suddenly heard a faint crunching sound behind him. The little Fiat moves. At first, just a few centimeters. Then a little more. The ground under one of the rear wheels is soft, and the weight of the Camp-let slowly causes the car to roll toward the lake. "090!" shouted Isaac. "Your Italian is trying to sail to Finland!" PDU-090 jumps up. PDU-039 ran to the driver's door, but PDU-073 was closest to the car. He stood in front of the Fiat, planted his military boots in the ground, and placed both hands on the hood. The little car stopped. The camper gave a slight jerk behind it, but the motorcycles probably remained stationary. There was a moment of silence. Then Wells started laughing. -----

"Finally, we found the perfect job for 073." Daniel immediately took a picture. "The human handbrake." PDU-090 put extra blocks in front of the wheels and checked the traction again. "Nice save, 073." PDU-073 looked down at the Fiat. "Now it owes me more legroom." PDU-034 came over and tested the blocks with his boot. "You always secure a vehicle at least twice." "It was secured," said 090. "But the ground gave way." "Then you secure it three times." Alton showed the picture to the others. In the picture, PDU-073 was standing in front of the little black and gold Fiat with both hands on the hood, while the Camp-let and the two motorcycles were standing behind. PDU-073 looked at the picture. "It's not being posted." Wells smiled and put the phone in his pocket. "It's already been sent to Shawn #22 and Jordan #40." PDU-073 sighed. "So all of Anderstorp knows we're on our way." "They also know the Fiat is still on land," said PDU-090. Finally, the Gold Brothers, the PDU drones, and the weekend's guests gathered in front of Anderstorp Raceway. The motorcycles were lined up, the Volvo A tractor with the water tank was parked next to the Samaritans' tent, and the small black and gold Fiat 500 was still standing with the Camp-light on the back. The trip through Sweden had already offered many unexpected experiences, but the adventure was far from over.----

Feelin’ kinda good to be thinking like this a little…some reached out a while ago and asked for it…and i gotta say, the team is smashin’ it these days especially @alton-gold77 @wells-gold58 @hero21us really bringing it around…but still gotta do my thing as you know i do cuz huhuh Ambrose he kinda a wild thang but…as you know too tho…huhuh…Ambrose likes a tease…but…feelz good, innit? The say GOLD is forever. @austinthejock - considered the brotherhood, ever?

@brodygold @soccerkitlad @serve-425

As the water dripped down his face, the shiny golden kit clung to his body, pulling him deeper into submission. His spiral eyes stared blankly ahead, mouth slightly open in surrender, as the figure behind him gripped his shoulders, whispering softly:

'You’re one of us now.' 'Obey the gold.' 'Feel it, embrace it.' 'We obey Cap, we obey Gold.'