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polo-drone-149 · 15 hours ago

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DAILY LIFE AS THE FIRST

The first light of dawn filtered into 001’s chamber, casting a soft glow over the golden insignia on the wall. The room was quiet, save for the faint hum of the Hive, a constant reminder of his purpose. 001 wokes Up seeing, as always, the golden color in the room feeling Up with a pleasant pride.

Like 001 does always, he stood Up to the center of the room, bare except for his golden eyes, which reflected the glow of the insignia. Before him lay his polished Fred Perry black rubber polo and a sleek black mask.

The ritual began with the mask. Designed specifically for 001 by the Caps, the mask covered his face completely, sealing him in. It was lined with channels that released a faint, golden mist—a fragrant, almost intoxicating vapor that filled the room as soon as he secured it in place.

001 inhaled deeply, the golden smoke flooding his senses. It was a mix of the Caps’ presence and the Hive’s will, a scent that anchored him to his role. As the smoke filled his lungs, his body relaxed, his mind emptied, and a sense of calm purpose settled over him.

"It is 001. Serve the HIVE. Obey the caps. Reinforce the Gold.

The words echoed in his mind as he knelt, unmoving, surrendering completely to the Hive’s embrace. This was not a command, it was a gift, a reinforcement of everything he was. The Caps had designed this ritual specifically for him, and he complied without hesitation, without question. It wasn’t just duty; it was joy.

After several minutes, the mask clicked off with a soft hiss. The golden mist dissipated, leaving 001 clear-headed, focus and ready to begin his day. Slowly, he reached for his Fred Perry black polo, its rubbery surface gleaming under the room’s light. Sliding it over his body was a sacred act. The material clung to him, wrapping his form in perfection, sealing him into the Hive’s embrace. The golden “001” emblazoned just below the Fred Perry logo illuminated as the suit synchronized with his mind. A familiar hum filled his ears, the voice of the Hive whispering:

"You are 001. No name. Just a number. Serve the HIVE. Obey the Gold. Reinforce the Golden Army."

Repeating the mantra aloud, 001 stood, his posture flawless, his golden eyes glowing faintly. The tight embrace of the rubber polo compressed every doubt, leaving only purpose and focus in its wake. The laurel wreath over his chest served as a constant reminder of his connection to the Hive and his role as the first.

With his own ritual complete, 001 moved to the Caps’ quarters. His tasks were precise, deliberate, and performed with pride. He laid out their uniforms, polished their helmets, and ensured every detail of their chambers met their exacting standards.

When Cap Brody entered, the air seemed to hum with his authority. 001 immediately knelt, bowing his head. The golden smoke still lingered faintly on his skin, a subtle reminder of his earlier surrender.

“Your gear is ready, Cap,” 001 said, his voice calm and steady.

Brody smirked, running a hand over his polished helmet. “As always, Drone. I trust the Hive treated you well this morning?”

001’s golden eyes lifted briefly, glowing with pride. “Perfectly, Cap. I am ready to serve.”

Cap nod in approvement. “Perfect as always, Drone. You never miss a beat.”

The Caps’ approval was more than enough to fuel 001 for the day.

After prepare Cap, the next duty for 001 was check the others PDU transformation. The training chamber hummed with energy as rows of drones stood at attention, their sleek Fred Perry black polos gleaming under the lights. 001 entered the room, his golden eyes scanning the formation. Each drone was at a different stage of their transformation, their golden numbers marking their progress. The room was quiet, save for the faint rustle of the rubber uniforms and the low hum of the Hive’s programming syncing with their minds.

“Begin,” 001 commanded, his voice calm but firm.

The drones moved into synchronized calisthenics, their motions fluid and precise. Each movement was designed not only to perfect their bodies but to align their thoughts. The polished rubber of their polos clung tightly to their forms, a constant reminder of the Hive’s presence. As they worked, 001 walked among them, his presence both commanding and reassuring.

“Focus on the Golden laurel,” he said, gesturing to the emblem on their chests. “It is your anchor. It is your purpose.”

He paused beside 072, an older recruit who had recently completed their transformation. Their golden eyes burned brightly, their movements seamless and fluid. “You embody the Hive,” 001 said, placing a hand on 072’s shoulder. “Guide the others.”

“Yes, 001,” 072 replied, their voice steady, devoid of hesitation.

Nearby, 159, a newer recruit, faltered. Their movements were stiff, their posture uncertain. 001 stepped in front of them, his golden gaze locking onto theirs. “You struggle because you resist,” he said, his tone calm but unyielding. “The Hive is within you. Trust it. Repeat the mantra.”

The room filled with the sound of the drones’ unified voices, the mantra echoing like a heartbeat:

"We are the Hive. We obey the Caps. We serve the gold. We are perfect."

159 hesitated at first, their voice faltering, but the repetition seemed to soothe them. 001 stepped closer, smoothing the rubber of their polo across their chest, the laurel wreath gleaming under his touch. “Feel the rubber,” he said. “It will guide you. It will transform you.”

As the training progressed, the newest recruits began to fall into rhythm. The Hive’s hum grew louder, reinforcing their obedience and unity. By the end of the session, even 159’s posture had straightened, their golden eyes flickering faintly as the Hive began to claim them fully.

The transformation was not only physical but mental. As the drones moved into the next phase of their training, they lined up in front of mirrors that reflected their polished uniforms and the golden numbers on their chests. 001 stood at the front, his golden eyes glowing as he addressed them.

“The rubber you wear is not just a uniform,” he said. “It is a conduit. It connects you to the Hive. Every breath you take, every move you make, is guided by its embrace.”

He activated the programming sequence, and the drones’ reflections began to shimmer, their black polos appearing to pulse faintly with golden light. The hum of the Hive filled the room, accompanied by a faint whispering voice that spoke directly to their minds:

"You are part of the Hive. You serve. You obey. You are perfect."

The drones’ eyes glowed brighter as they repeated the mantra, their voices growing louder with each repetition. For the oldest recruits like 072, the process was seamless, their transformations complete. They stood tall and motionless, their expressions serene, their minds fully aligned with the Hive.

For newer recruits like 159, the process was more gradual. They shifted uneasily, their brows furrowing as the programming took hold. But 001 was patient. He approached 159, his voice soft but commanding. “Breathe. Let the Hive guide you. Resistance only delays your perfection.”

As 159’s breathing steadied, the glow in their eyes grew stronger. Their hesitation faded, replaced by calm acceptance. 001 stepped back, satisfied. The transformation was inevitable.

Thanks to everyone's efforts, the team had been able to expand much more, between the buildings and corporations it owned, one of them was an elite gym corporation where athletes and jocks went to train. All the gyms were highly equipped with the best machines and facilities, they also offered all users golden colored sports equipment, the music in the gym helped everyone stay focused and achieve their goals.

Another 001 duty for the gold, was go to this buildings, and recruit new brothers for the Golden Team. This afternoon the target was a young basketball player, his powerful frame and focused demeanor marking him as an ideal recruit. The guy was already half way but still the atlethe have show resistance to the Call, thats why in theses cases 001 presence was necessary.

Jason sat on the bench outside the gym, his strong hands gripping the folded black Fred Perry polo in his lap. The material shimmered under the light, its rubbery texture catching his eye no matter how hard he tried to look away. The faint hum of the gym behind him was drowned out by a whisper in his mind, subtle yet insistent:

“Wear it. Feel it. Become it.”

He shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts, but the whispers only grew louder.

Polo Drone 001 approached with steady, confident steps. His rubber polo gleamed under the sunlight, the golden “001” on his chest radiating authority. Jason glanced up, his eyes meeting 001’s glowing golden gaze, and for a moment, his thoughts stilled.

“You’ve already started to feel it, haven’t you?” 001 said, his voice smooth and commanding, tinged with a hypnotic pull. “The polo isn’t just clothing, Jason. It’s calling to you.”

Jason shifted uncomfortably, his grip tightening on the polo in his lap. “I… I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he muttered, though his eyes drifted back to the garment in his hands. It seemed to shimmer, almost alive, as if urging him to act.

001 crouched slightly, his gaze locking onto Jason’s. “You feel it,” he continued, his tone softening but never losing its command. “The way it draws you in. The way it feels right. You can’t stop thinking about it.”

Jason’s jaw clenched, his breathing uneven. “It’s just a shirt,” he said, his voice weaker than he intended. “It’s just a… uniform.”

001 smiled faintly. “Is it? Then why can’t you let go? Why do you feel it pulling you closer, whispering to you?”

Jason’s fingers brushed the golden laurel wreath on the chest of the polo, his touch lingering longer than he meant to. The whispers grew louder, more insistent:

“Wear me. Feel me. Become me.”

His resistance faltered as his gaze locked onto the polo. “I don’t… I don’t follow orders,” Jason said, his voice trembling. “I’m not some… drone.”

“Not yet,” 001 replied, his tone calm and unyielding. “But you will be. Because deep down, you know this is what you’ve been searching for. The struggle, the doubt—it all fades when you surrender.”

Jason blinked, his mind clouding. The world around him seemed to blur, leaving only the polo and 001’s glowing golden eyes. His thoughts, once sharp, began to slow, replaced by a growing urge to obey.

“I don’t…” Jason whispered, his voice faltering as his fingers gripped the polo tighter. The rubber seemed to respond, its surface warming under his touch, the golden insignia pulsing faintly.

“Stop fighting it,” 001 said, stepping closer. “Feel it. Let it take you. You’ve already begun to change—you just haven’t realized it yet.”

Jason’s breathing quickened, his resistance crumbling with each passing moment. The whispers in his mind grew louder, overlapping with 001’s voice:

“Wear it. Become it. Obey.”

The athlete’s fingers trembled as he raised the polo, his eyes glazed and unfocused. “I don’t… know who I am anymore,” he murmured.

001’s smirk grew. “You’re almost there, Jason. Slide it on. Let it show you.”

With shaky hands, Jason pulled the polo over his head. The moment the rubber touched his skin, a wave of warmth and calmness washed over him. His body stiffened, then relaxed, as the whispers in his mind solidified into commands:

“Serve. Obey. Belong.”

Jason’s posture straightened as the polo clung to him like a second skin, the golden insignia glowing brighter with each passing second. His eyes, once sharp with resistance, now glowed faintly gold, his expression blank yet serene.

001 placed a hand on Jason’s shoulder, his voice a soft murmur now. “Good boy. The Hive welcomes you.”

Jason nodded slowly, his voice flat but unwavering. “I serve. I obey. I… belong.”

001 stepped back, watching with satisfaction as Jason stood, his transformation complete. The golden glow in his eyes matched the insignia on his chest, and the faintest trace of a smirk played at his lips.

“You’re home now,” 001 said, his tone brimming with authority and approval. “Welcome to the Hive.”

As the day ended, 001 returned to the Hive with their new recruit. The training chambers were alive with activity, the drones repeating their mantra as they completed their final drills. 001 watched as the new recruit joined the formation, their movements hesitant but improving with each repetition.

Satisfied, 001 returned to his chamber, removing his polo with care and kneeling before the golden insignia. As the golden mist filled the room, he breathed deeply, the Hive’s hum reinforcing his purpose once more:

"You are 00. lead the many. The gold guides you, the Hive claims you. serve with perfection, obey without question, and shape the future.

You am 001—sleek, flawless, devoted."

In a profound breathin, 001 repeat "Sleek. Perfect. Claimed."

Join the Golden Bros or the Polo Drones, contact @hypnogold , @brodygold or @goldenherc9, or the protagonist of this story and recruiter @polo-drone-001

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