Wells Gold

A Hero Worth Following

In another universe, the people of a forgotten mountain town believed the Golden Hero had been sent by the heavens. Generations had prayed for his return. To them, he was more than a legendary man... he was almost a god.

For generations, parents told stories of the Golden Hero.

Children learned songs celebrating his deeds.

Artists carved statues in his likeness.

Every midsummer, the townspeople gathered to pray that one day their Golden Hero would return.

Most believed it was only a beautiful legend.

Then one bright summer morning...

A lone traveler wearing a gleaming metallic gold football kit walked through the ancient stone gates.

The number 46 shone in the sunlight.

The marketplace fell silent.

One villager dropped to his knees.

Then another.

Soon the entire square bowed before Brock Gold.

Some whispered prayers.

Others wept with joy.

"The Golden Hero has returned..."

"Our guardian..."

"The one sent from the heavens..."

Brock looked around in complete confusion.

"Please..."

"I'm just Brock."

The mayor hurried forward.

"My Lord..."

"Your throne has waited generations."

"Our people are yours to command."

Brock smiled kindly.

"I think I'd rather help prepare your festival."

Without another word, he rolled up his sleeves.

He carried heavy crates.

Helped raise banners.

Repaired broken market stalls.

Worked beside the volunteers until dust covered his golden jersey.

The villagers watched in stunned silence.

Their heavenly hero wasn't sitting on a throne.

He was serving beside them.

An elderly villager finally asked,

"If you truly came from the heavens..."

"Why are you doing our work?"

Brock gently set down another crate.

"Because it became my work..."

"...the moment I arrived."

He looked around at the gathering crowd.

"If you see something good in me..."

"Don't worship it."

"Practice it."

The next morning, the town changed.

Neighbors helped neighbors.

Young men volunteered without being asked.

No one waited for Brock to solve every problem.

Inspired by his example...

They became the people they had always hoped their hero would be.

On Brock's final evening...

The mayor presented him with an ornate golden crown.

"If you are not our god..."

"Then at least be our king."

Brock accepted the crown with both hands.

He smiled warmly.

Then gently placed it upon the town's monument.

"A crown doesn't make someone worthy."

"The choices they make do."

He looked across the town.

"You never needed someone to stand above you."

"You only needed someone to remind you what you're capable of."

As dawn broke, Brock continued his journey.

The villagers watched him disappear beyond the mountains.

They had spent generations waiting for a god.

Instead...

They found a man worth following.

And because of that...

They became heroes themselves.

True leaders don't ask others to stand beneath them—they stand beside them. The Golden Army is built on brotherhood, growth, service, and leading by example. If you're ready to become the best version of yourself while helping other men do the same, there's a place for you among the Golden Bros.

More Than the Scoreboard

In another universe, the Golden Army was not feared for an unbeatable record. They entered the final month of the season near the bottom of the table, carrying more losses than victories.

The scoreboard told a simple story.

Another match.

Another defeat.

The opposing supporters celebrated while the Golden Bros stood quietly beneath the stadium lights. Gold jerseys that usually looked brilliant now seemed muted by rain, grass stains, and exhaustion.

Brock Gold #46 remained near midfield after the final whistle.

Around him, teammates exchanged respectful handshakes with their opponents.

They had trained hard.

They had trusted one another.

They had still lost.

Inside the locker room, the silence felt heavier than any speech.

One Bro finally asked,

"What are we doing wrong?"

Brock looked around the quiet locker room.

"We lost today."

No one argued.

"We made mistakes."

"We missed chances."

"But that isn't the whole story."

He pointed toward a young teammate.

"Three months ago, he couldn't finish training."

"Tonight, he played the entire match."

Another Bro smiled quietly.

Brock continued.

"The scoreboard measures the match."

"It doesn't measure the work that brought us here."

The next morning...

Every Golden Bro returned to training.

Not because they had won.

Because they believed they could become better.

Weeks passed.

The losses didn't disappear immediately.

But something else changed.

Communication became stronger.

Training became sharper.

Whenever one Bro struggled...

Another stayed beside him.

Golden jerseys filled the practice fields long after scheduled sessions had ended.

Nobody wanted to be the first to leave.

They weren't just becoming better footballers.

They were becoming better brothers.

By the final match of the season...

The Golden Army would not win the championship.

But the stadium was full.

Supporters had watched the team refuse to quit.

The final whistle sounded.

The Golden Army had won.

Not enough to erase the losing record.

Enough to prove who they had become.

A reporter approached Brock.

"Was this season a failure?"

Brock looked toward his teammates.

"A losing record tells you how many matches we lost."

"It doesn't tell you how many times we got back up."

The Golden Army left the field without a trophy.

But they left together.

Sometimes victory isn't standing at the top.

Sometimes...

It's refusing to stop climbing.

Not every journey begins with victory. Some begin with setbacks, hard lessons, and brothers who refuse to let one another quit. If you are ready to grow through every challenge and help others rise beside you, there is a place for you in the Golden Army.

The morning sun rose over the French countryside as the Golden Army support team prepared for Stage 12. Ahead lay 179.1 kilometers with three Category 4 climbs. None of the climbs were long enough to decide the entire Tour, but together they would test every rider's endurance and teamwork. Before sunrise, PDU-090 and PDU-034 had already inspected every bicycle. Tire pressure was checked, chains lubricated, radios tested, and spare wheels loaded into the support vehicles. Nothing was left to chance. "Our riders are ready," said PDU-034 as he closed the toolbox. PDU-090 nodded. "Now we do our part." As the peloton rolled away from the start, the support team spread out along the route. PDU-039 coordinated communications between the race cars and the team. PDU-070 made sure food bags and water bottles were ready for every rider. PDU-073 watched carefully for any mechanical problems or crashes that might require immediate assistance. The first sprint point arrived after 45.8 kilometers. The Golden Army riders stayed together, protecting their leaders from the wind while saving energy for the final part of the stage. The three short climbs came one after another. None looked frightening on paper, but every hill slowly wore the riders down. On each climb, teammates sacrificed their own strength to keep the leaders in a good position.

When the dimensional portal closed behind PDU-090 and PDU-034, nothing seemed out of the ordinary. The cities were modern, the people friendly, and everything seemed peaceful. Mission Control had only one instruction: "Observe. Learn. Stay out of trouble." That first morning, everything changed. As the two PDU drones walked through the central plaza in their black rubber suits, polished boots, gloves, and numbered collars, hundreds of people suddenly stopped what they were doing. They knelt in silence. Children smiled. Elders bowed their heads. Flowers were placed at their feet. The citizens believed the PDU drones had returned from the sky.--- Every request was immediately granted. Food appeared. Fresh water was offered. Their equipment was carefully cleaned by volunteers. Everywhere they went, people whispered respectfully. PDU-034 looked around in surprise. "This is... unpleasant." PDU-090 nodded. "Respect is earned, not demanded."

They politely thanked everyone, but never accepted special privileges beyond what they needed for the mission. Instead, they helped repair broken equipment, carried supplies, and spent time talking to the locals. By evening, many of the citizens had begun to understand that true leadership was shown through actions rather than worship. The next morning, everything had changed. The same people who had bowed down to them now treated them like the lowest-ranking workers in society. Orders were shouted. Heavy burdens had to be carried. Roads had to be cleaned. Machines had to be repaired from sunrise to sunset.--- The rubber uniforms that had symbolized greatness the day before now marked them as servants. PDU-034 quietly picked up another toolbox. "So yesterday we were gods." PDU-090 smiled under his visor. "And today we are workers." "Does that bother you?" "Well." They performed each task with the same discipline they had shown the day before. They treated everyone with courtesy. They shared their food with others who had even less.

Begin Log: 16.07.2026

PDU-767 had three assignments:

*TASK NODE 1: Drone exploring a new city -

*TASK NODE 2: DRONE and What would happen living in a universe where you are treated like a god? -

*TASK NODE 3: ALTERNATIVE UNIVERSES Week -

**GUEST STAR: PDU-073 - @polo-drone-073 PDU-125 - @polo-drone-125

Begin Log: 15.07.2026

PDU-767 had three assignments:

*TASK NODE 1: Drone in a fantasy world -

*TASK NODE 2: DRONE and What if the Golden Army had a losing record? -

*TASK NODE 3: ALTERNATIVE UNIVERSES Week -

**GUEST STAR: Wells Gold #58 - @wells-gold58

Chalice Pub in the Backpack

PDU-090, also known as Kasper 90, had known Brother Izzy #45 for over a year. In all that time, Izzy had been one of those brothers you could always count on. He was the manager of the Gold Brothers’ own Chalice Pub in Golden City, but he was much more than just the man behind the bar. Izzy was the one who noticed when a brother had had a hard day. He could tell the difference between ordinary fatigue and the silence that meant someone needed a good conversation. He never pressured anyone to tell more than they wanted. He would just set a cold beer, a soda, a glass of water, or a freshly made drink on the bar and say: “You can always stay a while.”

The Chalice Pub had therefore become an important gathering place for both the Gold Brothers and the PDU drones from the Golden Army. After training, traveling, and long missions, they could meet there, relax, and talk about the day's experiences. Some nights the pub was filled with laughter and music. Other nights a few brothers sat quietly at the bar while Izzy listened. Working by his side was his master, PDU-039. He helped with the storage, photography, planning, and transportation of the various bar counters. PDU-039 also made sure that the Chalice Pub always had the right equipment when the Golden Army went on missions. Because the Chalice Pub didn't just exist as a quick bar in Golden City. Izzy had several mobile bar counters that could be set up at motor races, bike races, training camps, harbors, forests, and festivals. When the Golden Army traveled, you could almost always count on Izzy to show up with cold drinks and his friendly smile.

Right now, Izzy was training a new Gold Brother to be a water boy. The new brother had been a little nervous the first day. He thought the job was just about handing out water bottles. Izzy quickly explained to him that a good water boy had a lot of responsibility. “You have to keep an eye on everyone,” Izzy said. “Not just the ones who shout the loudest. Some don’t even say they need water.” The new brother learned to fill bottles, monitor temperatures, and make sure both the Gold Brothers and the PDU drones got enough fluids during training. He also learned that the bottles had to be easy to find and that water should never be left in the sun.

PDU-090 watched Izzy calmly explain the tasks several times, even when the new brother made mistakes. “He’s getting a good education,” 090 told PDU-039. PDU-039 nodded. “Izzy doesn’t just teach him the job. He teaches him to look after the others.” As a thank you, PDU-090, PDU-039 and several of the brothers decided to build a special gift for Izzy. They wanted to create a new mobile Chalice Pub that could be taken anywhere in the world and the rest of the universe. It had to be foldable and carried like a backpack. In the Golden Army workshop, PDU-090 designed the construction. When the backpack was closed, it looked like sturdy travel gear in black and gold. But when the buckles were opened, the sides folded out to form a real bar counter.

Small shelves were added for glasses and bottles. A tap was hidden in one side. Under the bar counter, coolers were mounted for beer, water, soda, juice and ingredients for drinks. On top, a small foldable windmill. Solar cells were mounted on both sides. They supplied power to the refrigeration system and charged a battery so that the drinks could be kept cold both day and night. PDU-070 checked the cooling system. PDU-034 tested all the fittings. The over-three-meter-tall PDU-073 put on the backpack and walked around the workshop to test the straps. “It fits well,” he said. “But Izzy probably shouldn’t fill it with bottles before he puts it on.” On the front mounted PDU-125 and a gold sign that read CHALICE PUB. Below the sign read: EVERYONE IS WELCOME. When the bar was finished, Izzy was called into the workshop. PDU-090 pointed to the backpack. “It’s for you.”

Izzy opened the buckles. The bar counter unfolded, the solar panels slid into place, and the small windmill rose. The cooling system started with a low hum, and the gold sign lit up. Izzy fell completely silent. “Now the Chalice Pub can go anywhere,” said PDU-039. “To Golden City, speedways, beaches, mountain camps, space stations and alien planets.” The new mobile bar was inaugurated that evening. Gold Brothers, PDU drones, water boys, trances, puppies, captains, chavs, Arabs and guests from all over the Golden Army gathered around the bar. At the Chalice Pub, everyone was welcome, as long as they treated each other with respect. The new water boy handed out cold bottles. PDU-039 took pictures, Mr. PDU-090 raised his glass. “To Brother Izzy #45. Thanks for the cold drinks, the good conversations and for always helping brothers and drones alike.”--- Izzy smiled and looked around the whole group. “The Chalice Pub is not just a bar,” he said. “It’s a place where you can meet a brother, have a good chat and remember that no one in the Golden Army has to stand alone.”

New members who wish to meet Brother Izzy in Golden City or on assignments around the world and universe can contact the Golden Army for more information

The night over the Anderstorp Raceway had been quiet. Only a few sounds from the forest, a distant car on the road and the rustling of the tent canvases had broken the silence. Slowly, the bright Swedish summer morning began to spread over the camping area. The PDU drones were, as usual, among the first to get up. While most of the Gold Brothers were still asleep, the drones began their regular morning routine. Uniforms were checked, boots were laced, and equipment was laid out in precise rows. Then they performed gas mask exercises, morning roll call, and their common mantra. "Discipline creates strength." "Strength creates confidence." "Confidence creates unity." The words were spoken clearly and in the same rhythm, as the morning sun slowly rose above the trees. Some of the Gold Brothers had also come out of their tents and started their workout. They were doing push-ups, sit-ups, squats and running around the campsite. Others hadn’t had their morning coffee yet and were watching the workout with tired eyes. A little further away, Daniel Gold #16 and Alton Gold #77 had already started arguing.

No one could quite make out what the discussion was about. It sounded like a mix of go-karting, racing, engine power and a bet that had possibly been made the night before. The voices gradually got louder. “You braked way too early,” Daniel said. “I braked exactly where I should have,” Alton replied. “You could have taken the turn at least ten kilometers faster.” “You’re only saying that because you drove over the curb yourself.” “It was a controlled maneuver.” “You were almost in the grass.” “Can we have some peace this morning!” The voice came from PDU-034. The Swedish drone had come forward with the whip hanging from his boot. He didn't need to use it. It was enough that he stood with his arms crossed and watched the two loud brothers. Daniel and Alton immediately fell silent. Several of the Gold Brothers had great respect for PDU-034. Not because he shouted often, but because everyone knew that when the Swedish drone gave an order, he expected it to be followed.

Wells Gold #58 lifted his coffee mug and nodded in satisfaction. "That's impressive," he said. "034 can handle an argument faster than a mechanic can turn off an engine." PDU-034 shot him a look. Wells also fell silent. Shortly after, PDU-073 slowly emerged from his tent. The drone, more than two meters tall, had a red head like a boiled crayfish. The sun from the day before had hit him harder than he had first noticed. PDU-090 walked over to Ham. “073, are you going to the hospital for treatment?” “No thanks,” PDU-073 replied. “We’ll wait and see. It’s just the sun.” “You don’t look like it’s just the sun.” “I can still do my job.” “That’s not the question. The question is whether you can do it safely.” PDU-073 straightened his back. “I’ll let you know if it gets worse. And besides, I’ve had a friend pick up my private car and a trailer. The car needs to go home and get properly checked after yesterday’s problems.” PDU-090 nodded. It was the sensible decision. The hours passed slowly, and the camp fully woke up. Izzy Gold #45 walked around the tables and tents, making sure everyone had coffee, water, and snacks until the big breakfast was ready.

At some point, PDU-034 returned from his morning run. He had covered several miles around the area around the track and had checked the access roads. “PDU-039 has met with PDU-166 and PDU-767,” he announced. “They’re on their way here. They’ll talk to PDU-073 and make sure he’s back to his best.” PDU-166 and PDU-767 were both trained to help with injuries, overheating, and other problems during Golden Army missions. Not long after, they walked into the camp with their task. The drones greeted each other properly. PDU-034, PDU-090, PDU-166 and PDU-767 exchanged brief messages about the night’s progress and the day’s program. Then the two Samaritans went straight to PDU-073. “We heard you tried to turn into a Swedish boiled crayfish,” said PDU-767. “It wasn’t on purpose,” replied 073. “They all say that,” said PDU-166. They examined PDU-073’s skin and checked for signs of sunstroke or dehydration. Fortunately, the situation was not serious. They applied a cooling gel to his face, neck and shoulders. Then he was given a drink of water, salt and minerals.

“Drink plenty for the rest of the day,” said PDU-166. “And wear sunscreen,” added PDU-767. "Factor 90," said PDU-090. "You got it?" Wells asked. "To 073 do it now," replied 090. Izzy Gold #45 and Rhys Gold #19 came over and greeted the newly arrived drones. They hadn't spent much time with PDU-166 and PDU-767 before, but they quickly became a natural part of the camp.----

Rhys clapped his hands. "Go ahead! Morning brunch is served."

On the long tables was everything the heart could desire. There was freshly baked bread, crispbread, dark rye bread and several kinds of hot rolls. Dishes of ham, chicken, fish, sausages and various Swedish cold cuts stood side by side with cheeses, jam, honey and fresh fruit. Izzy had also made a large bowl of shrimp salad, which he was very proud of. "It's not just shrimp salad," he explained. "It's educational shrimp salad." "How can a shrimp salad be educational?" asked Daniel. "It teaches you to take an appropriate portion the first time, so there is also something for the others." Daniel immediately put half back. Coffee, tea, apple juice and orange juice were served. The atmosphere was relaxed, and even PDU-073 began to feel better after the fluids, food and treatment.

After brunch, the day's motorcycle training was prepared. PDU-034, PDU-039, PDU-073 and PDU-090 as well as Daniel Gold #16, Alton Gold #77 and Wells Gold #58 changed into their leathers. Helmets, gloves, boots and back protectors were thoroughly checked. The motorcycles were lined up next to the track. Each machine was inspected before anyone was allowed to ride. Tire pressure, chains, brakes, oil and petrol were checked. PDU-090 checked the fastenings once more, while PDU-039 noted the condition of the machines. The first few laps were calm. The goal was not to set a record, but to get to know the track and find the right rhythm. Anderstorp Raceway had long stretches, fast corners and areas where it was important to choose the right line. PDU-073 had gotten his hands on a very small training motorbike.

As the two-meter-tall drone climbed onto the mini motorbike, it almost looked like he could lift it and carry it under his arm. Wells started laughing. "All you need is circus music." PDU-073 looked down at the machine. "It's built for precision." "It's built for kids," Daniel said. "Precision doesn't have to be a certain size," 073 replied. As he started riding, it turned out he was right. He steered the small motorbike safely through the cones and was surprisingly fast around the short training track. The other drones rode larger 1000cc motorbikes and completed many laps. PDU-034, PDU-039, and PDU-090 had almost the same riding style. They rode disciplined, choosing calm lines and only increasing their speed once they knew the route. Daniel, Alton and Wells had a different approach. They quickly began racing.

No one was quite sure what the bet was this time. Maybe it was who would get the drinks later. Maybe it was who had the fastest machine. It could also have been a bet on who would do the dishes after dinner. Izzy and Rhys constantly made sure that both brothers and drones got breaks, water and something to eat. No one was allowed to drive too many laps without coming in and resting. When Daniel and Alton started arguing loudly again, PDU-034 simply turned his head and gave them a look. The camp immediately fell silent. Wells whispered to Daniel: "I think he can hear us from hundreds of meters away." "He doesn't need to hear anything," Daniel replied. "He just knows."

At noon, Izzy and Rhys had set up a big lunch buffet. There were omelets, hot bread, several types of cheese and fish, salads and dishes with everything from the sea. Izzy had been to the race bar and had also brought cold drinks for those who weren't racing right away. After lunch, training continued. PDU-034, PDU-039 and PDU-090 did several steady laps and worked on their braking points. Daniel, Alton and Wells continued their private competition, but this time they kept a little more distance and followed instructions. PDU-073 completed another lap on the minibike. By the time he passed the camp, his knees were almost up to the handlebars. Rhys waved to him. "You look fast!" "I'm fast!" 073 shouted back. Late in the afternoon, a car could be heard approaching the campsite. It was PDU-090's metallic gray Volkswagen Jetta. Behind the car was a car transporter with two racing motorcycles that were to be used for tomorrow's TT race.

Shawn Gold #22 got out of the car with PDU-070. "Delivery to the Golden Army," Shawn said, pointing to the motorcycles. PDU-090 immediately went over and checked the car and trailer. "How did it run?" "Perfect," Shawn replied. "PDU-070 has been checking the buckles about every twenty kilometers." "Eighteen kilometers," PDU-070 corrected.

The two racing motorcycles were carefully unloaded and driven to the work area. PDU-039 began to document their arrival, while PDU-034 and PDU-090 went through the machines. Everything had to be ready for the next day's TT race. Before dinner, the whole group decided to go down to a nearby swimming lake to cool off. The sun was still hot over Sweden, and after many hours in leather gear it was a relief to get down to the water.

Some jumped in straight away. Others walked slowly out from the shore. PDU-073 was told to keep his head in the shade and avoid more sun, but he was allowed to cool his legs and body in the water. Daniel, Alton and Wells immediately began a competition to see who could swim out to a small bathing jetty the fastest. PDU-034 stood on the shore and watched them. “No stupid idea.” “Of course not,” the three of them replied in unison. Five minutes later, Wells tried to push Daniel into the water, while Alton tried to climb onto the bathing platform from the wrong side. PDU-034 only had to raise one hand. The three of them calmly sat down on the bridge

PDU-166 and PDU-767 also joined in the water. When their Samaritan duties were over, they were given the opportunity to relax with the rest of the group. They splashed around, swam short distances, and told stories from past Golden Army missions. Izzy and Rhys had brought soda, cold water, and fruit. They made sure everyone had plenty to drink. Even PDU-034 finally sat down at the water's edge and relaxed. The whip and boots were safely on land, while the Swedish drone let its feet slide into the cool water. It was a lovely few hours at the bathing lake. When the group returned to camp, the evening's big Swedish dinner began.--- Ten different kinds of meatballs were served. Some were made of beef, others of pork, chicken, fish, elk and reindeer. There were also vegetarian meatballs and a few strong varieties, which made Daniel drink a glass of water. The meatballs were accompanied by mashed potatoes, brown gravy, sour cream and cranberries. In addition, Jansson's temptation and several Swedish salads were served. "This is not dinner," said Wells. "It's a whole festival." Dessert consisted of Swedish cakes, ice cream, fruit and coffee. For those who wanted it, there were good wines and beers. The drones, of course, kept track of who would be driving the next morning. As the evening wore on, PDU-039 found the music equipment. Some of the music he had produced himself. Calm tones were mixed with more energetic rhythms, and soon the tables were singing along. The three wild brothers, Daniel, Alton, and Wells, kept their cool that night. It might have been because they were tired from the day’s training. It could also have been because PDU-034 was sitting so he could see them.

Drone stories and brother stories from previous missions were told. Shawn told about the transport in the Jetta. PDU-070 described how he had checked every strap on the auto transporter. PDU-166 and PDU-767 told about companion missions where quick and calm action had made a big difference. Rhys told about today’s motorcycle training and tried to imitate PDU-073 on the mini-motorcycle. It made the whole table laugh, including 073 himself. “I completed every lap without a mistake,” he reminded them. “You did,” said PDU-090. “And it was a good run.” Izzy sat with a satisfied smile, looking at the long table. During the day, the group had grown even larger. Gold Brothers and PDU drones from different locations had gathered at Anderstorp. Some knew each other well. Others had only met this weekend. Yet they were already working as one team. When darkness finally fell over the campsite, the music was turned down. The machines were covered, the trailers were locked, and the last of the equipment was checked. PDU-034 made a final round of the camp.----

PDU-039 saved the day’s photos and notes. PDU-070 checked the kitchen area. PDU-166 and PDU-767 ensured that PDU-073 had more water and cooling gel. PDU-090 stood for a moment, looking out over the many teles, motorcycles, and vehicles. The day had been filled with training, discussions, laughter, swimming, good food and new friendships. Everyone had contributed something. Some had ridden on the track. Some had cooked. Some had treated a sunburned drone. Others had transported motorcycles or provided water and safety. Finally, PDU-090 wrote the day's final line in the mission report: "Day three at Anderstorp completed. Gold Brothers and PDU drones trained, helped each other and welcomed new participants. PDU-073 was treated and was able to continue safely. The motorcycles for tomorrow's TT race have arrived. The community is stronger because each brother and each drone carries out their task with respect for the rest of the team." Slowly and quietly everyone calmed down. The next morning the TT race awaited.---

To be continued in part 4 of 4.

After yesterday’s tough mountain stage, the Golden Army was ready for a completely different challenge. The 11 to Nevers over 161.3 kilometers. The route was officially classified as flat, but included 1,400 meters of elevation gain, an intermediate sprint at Saint-Pourçain-sur-Sioule and the two short category 4 climbs Côte de Billonnière and Côte de Billy-Chevannes. early in the morning, the PDU drones were busy around the team bus. PDU-034 checked radios, batteries and communication equipment. PDU-039 reviewed the day’s route and got the camera crews ready. PDU-070 packed food, energy bars and cold drinks. PDU-073 checked the safety of the bikes, while PDU-090 gathered the day’s information for the morning briefing.

The Gold Brothers emerged from the bus wearing their yellow Golden Army cycling gear. Alton Gold #77 still wore the yellow jersey and had to be protected throughout the stage. Wells #58 and Jordan #40 were the team’s options in the expected mass sprint. Shawn #22, Franco #94, Felix #32 and Mason #44 were supposed to keep them ahead of the peloton. “Today’s stage looks easy on paper,” said PDU-090. “But a flat stage can be dangerous. There will be high speed, a fight for positions and the risk of crashes.” Alton nodded. “We don’t have to win every moment. We have to be together, protect the jersey and give our sprinters the best opportunity in Nevers.” Shortly after the start from Vichy, several riders tried to break away. The peloton reacted quickly and the pace increased. The Golden Army let others control the first attacks, while Shawn and Mason stayed close around Alton. At Saint-Pourçain-sur-Sioule, the battle for points began in the intermediate sprint. Wells moved forward between the other sprinters, with Jordan right behind him. Franco and Felix opened up space, making sure they weren’t locked in. Wells scored valuable points, but didn’t use all his strength.

“Nevers is more important,” he said over the radio. After the intermediate sprint, the Côte de Billonnière awaited. The climb was only 1.1 kilometers long with an average gradient of 5.8 percent, but the pace was fast. -034 followed the communication from the service car. “Alton is safe. Wells and Jordan are still in the lead.” PDU-070 prepared new water bottles. The sun was high, and the riders were starting to use more water. At the supply zone, PDU-090 and the other drones were positioned with bags. The timing had to be precise. A task handed in late or incorrectly could cause a crash. Mason came by first and took a task. Then followed Alton, Shawn, Wells, and Jordan. "Everyone has received supplies," PDU-090 reported. Further ahead, a Golden Army rider suffered a puncture. PDU-073 was immediately at the car, while the mechanic jumped out with a new wheel. The change took only a few seconds.--- The rider set off after the peloton, helped by Franco, who had dropped back to lead him back forward. No one was left alone. At the Côte de Billy-Chevannes, about 38 kilometers from the finish, a small group tried to attack. The climb was 1.5 kilometers with an average of five percent. the Army remained calm. "Don't chase everything," said Alton. "The other sprint teams want to finish together too." It turned out to be true. The breakaway never gained a big lead, and the peloton was closing in quickly.

With twenty kilometers to go, the battle for positions began in earnest. The teams filled the entire road. The speed increased, and the riders fought for every wheel. Shawn positioned himself in front of Alton. Mason lay on his side, protecting him from being found. Franco and Felix led Wells and Jordan forward towards the front positions. PDU-039 followed the race on the screen in the service area. "Ten kilometers to go. The entire Golden Army is assembled." At the entrance to Nevers, the road narrowed. The spectators were crowded behind the barriers, and the sounds grew around the riders. The Golden Army began to sit in a sprint train. Mason led the first hundred meters at high speed. Then Franco took over. Felix pulled the peloton further, while Shawn kept Alton safely behind the sprint group. Jordan lay in front of Wells, waiting for the right moment. "Five hundred meters," came the radio. Jordan accelerated. Wells followed his wheels. A sprinter from another team tried to pass on the right side, but Jordan kept pace. With about 180 meters to go, Wells pulled out and began his sprint. He crossed the finish line first by less than half a wheel length. The Golden Army had won stage 11.

Jordan raised his arm, having finished a few places further back. His work had made the victory possible. Alton crossed the finish line safely in the peloton and maintained his lead in the overall classification. At the team bus, Wells was greeted by the Gold Brothers and the PDU drones. “It wasn’t just my victory,” he said. “Jordan led the sprint. Franco, Felix and Mason created the position. Shawn protected Alton. The drones provided water, equipment and communications.”-- PDU-090 wrote the last line of the day in the mission report:

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