#gold army

[chavambrose]

Starting to Remember…Ambrose Gold…#49…midfielder…created by @brodygold…October 2023

[goldenarmyofficial]

Golden Army vs Cyan Collective – 4th Quarter Rising

(Grayden sitting on the sidelines anxiously)

The silence before the fourth quarter was not peace—it was the weight of dread. The air was thick with unease. Grayden grew increasingly anxious due to the creeping dread of Cyan’s influence over the team. His smile was gone, his eyes dark with worry. Three brothers had already fallen—pulled into Cyan’s grip—and several more wavered, minds rattled as the mind-games were cracking their discipline. The Golden bench looked less like a team and more like a battlefield of wills.

(PDU-151 surrounded by Cyan drones)

Alex—PDU-151—was in the stands. His polo damp with sweat, voice hoarse from shouting and chanting GOLD, he sprayed arcs of the rubber solution into the stands. Where the mist fell, fans snapped out of Cyan’s hypnosis, jerseys shining gold again. It was a battle for the crowd as much as for the court.

(Alton confronting CC-010)

On the court edge, Alton stood, flames in his eyes, nose-to-nose with CC-010. Words hissed, but the fight was spiritual, not physical. Alton was rightfully annoyed at Ares, a brother he once looked up to greatly, was now currently CC-010 supporting and coaching the Cyan Collective. Alton’s words sharp as steel began to sling insults and criticisms, but CC-010 was unphased. “You won’t break us. Not tonight.”

(Maximus splashing the solution on CC-073)

Behind them, Maximus and Ezan wrestled with despair. Their brother, Tamerlan, had fallen, his rubber pulsing with Cyan’s blue glow. For a moment, it seemed permanent—until Maximus splashed a bottle of the experimental rubber over CC-073’s chest. The hiss was violent, the rubber searing, the blue draining away. CC-073 collapsed, shuddering—then opened his eyes, golden again. Tamerlan was back.

(Izzy sitting next to Kasper)

Nearby, Izzy sat close to Kasper, who clutched his head, drowning in Cyan’s illusions. Izzy’s voice, low and steady, was the anchor keeping him from snapping completely. But while Gold fought to heal, Cyan smirked. They discovered tonic wine inside their water bottles, a trick likely set by one of the Golden Chavs.

(The Cyan Collective finding Tonic wine in their water bottles)

Brody and Grayden huddled fast exchanging glances. “We need fire,” Brody said. Grayden nodded. Izzy couldn’t leave Kasper, so the call was made.

Jordan would enter—their secret weapon.

(Jordan, the secret weapon)

Both sides had their rosters change going into the fourth quarter. On Gold’s side, Alton (PG), Boone (PF), Brock (C), Grant (SF), and Jordan (SG). On Cyan’s, CC-004 (PG), CC-033 (C), CC-042 (SF), CC-027 (PF), CC-035 (SG).

(Wells sitting on the bench)

Wells, bruised and exhausted, sat on the bench with ice on his knee, but the fire in his eyes promised he wasn’t done. On the other side, CC-022/Trey rested, their earlier dominance taking its toll.

The whistle shrieked and the horn blared. The quarter began. The scoreboard shined 73-71, reminding the players of Cyan’s small lead.

Alton controlled the pace, barking out the first set. He swung the ball wide to Boone, who spotted daylight beyond the arc. With Cyan’s defenders sagging, Boone rose and launched—swish. The crowd erupted, gold flags waving like flames. A solid three points to start the quarter off strong.

(CC-035 shooting a free throw)

The energy shifted—but Cyan pressed back. CC-033 muscled Brock under the rim, scoring a bruising hook. CC-035 slashed inside, drawing a foul. He hit one of two free throws, smirking as blue shimmered across his eyes.

(Grant scoring)

Grant flashed baseline, caught a feed from Alton, and sank a quick jumper. Jordan streaked across half-court, curling around a screen, catching a dart pass and drilling a mid-range shot. His eyes glowed with fire.

Timeout. Brody called it. The mission was clear—Boone and Grant out, Maximus and Ezan in. Boone and Grant didn’t argue. 

(Grant & Boone/PDU-096 accepting their mission)

Grayden pulled them close. “Your mission isn’t here anymore. It’s up there. The real fight is in the sound system. Get to the sound booth. Kill their whispers.” He pointed at the speakers. Cyan’s whispers slithered through the sound system. “Cut it off. Bring back the anthem.” Boone nodded solemnly, donning his rubber polo to become PDU-096. Grant smirked. The two vanished into the tunnels—on a mission to become Golden DJs.

(Ezan and Jordan playing together with strong chemistry)

Jordan exploded out of the timeout, his fire was instant. First play back—catch-and-shoot from the corner. Swish. Next possession, Ezan screened hard, Jordan curled, but missed a floater.

(Jordan and Ezan working well together, CC-022 and CC-047 in the background shocked at Jordan’s strength)

The chemistry between them was instant—sharp cuts, no-look passes, perfect timing. CC-022 and CC-047 even stood up from the bench in shock at Jordan’s strong plays. Then a fast break: Alton stole the ball, hit Jordan in stride, who hammered it in off the glass. Eight points in minutes. The crowd roared with every bucket, chanting his name. 

(CC-027 scoring)

Cyan countered with CC-027 and CC-042, masked and menacing. CC-027 muscled through Alton for a layup. CC-042 followed with a pull-up midrange jumper. Their masked faces glimmered, unreadable, but their movement was sharp—almost unnatural. Grayden’s instincts screamed: There’s something unnatural about them. Too precise. Too controlled. There was more to those two than met the eye. Not that one could see their eyes.

(Alton preparing a shot)

Gold countered. Alton faked left, darted right, and kissed the ball off glass for two. Ezan followed, breaking through CC-033’s defense for another layup. The scoreboard flashed: 88–80. The Golden Army roared. Momentum was theirs.

(CC-042 scoring)

Then the masks took control. CC-027 and CC-042 moved like synchronized shadows, punishing every Gold misstep. Seven points each in rapid succession—a three-pointer, a slashing dunk, a fast-break finish. In minutes, the eight-point lead dissolved. Cyan roared back ahead.

(Maximus about to dunk)

Maximus seized the ball off a miss, stormed down the lane, and crushed a dunk with both hands, shaking the rim. Gold’s bench exploded, but Cyan’s whispers in the sound system dulled the energy.

CC-004 buried a dagger three from deep. The scoreboard tilted Cyan’s way. 

Meanwhile Grayden pulled Nate/PDU-166 aside. Together, they whispered about Cyan’s strange fixation on him, a mystery demanding answers.

(SERVE-425 battling a Cyanus)

As the battle raged, SERVE-425 spotted a Cyanus infiltrator in the stadium weaving through the crowd. Its eyes glowing, whispering into fans’ ears. Without hesitation, he launched into the stands, tackling the creature mid-row. He confronted it ready to blast with a neutralizing beam of ruby red energy. The fight for the crowd’s loyalty mirrored the war on the hardwood.

(Jordan leaping up for a jumper)

On the hardwood, Jordan caught the ball once more. He rose for a jumper—but hesitation flickered across his eyes. Cyan’s whisper slithered into his thoughts mid-shot. 

(Jordan limping due to his rolled ankle)

Then disaster struck, his ankle rolled on the landing. He crashed to the floor, clutching his leg. The crowd gasped. Pain seared across his face. Jordan’s night was done. Trainers rushed. Brody’s face hardened instantly. Timeout.

(Brody calling a timeout)

The scoreboard glared: Cyan 97, Gold 90.

(CC-767 cheering)

As Jordan was helped to the bench, CC-767 rose in the crowd, chanting for Cyan with manic glee. His influence spread like wildfire. Fans buckled, voices shifting blue. Then Leander shuddered. Leander, seated behind the Gold bench, stiffened. His skin shimmered blue. Before anyone could stop it, he was gone—reborn as CC-088. Another brother was stolen by Cyan.

(CC-767 standing next to a newly transformed CC-088)

The Golden Army reeled. But on the bench, Wells ripped the ice from his knee. His voice cut through the noise. Wells stood, fists clenched, demanding to take Brock’s place. He knew his defensive skills were needed to close out the game. “Put me in. I’m ready. We don’t fall here.”

(Wells is angry)

Brody stared at him, then nodded. The final act was coming. The game was about to change.

(Grayden and PDU-166 exiting the arena)

While trainers tended to Jordan, Grayden slipped on his PDU-084 polo and ran into the tunnels with Nate/PDU-166. Beneath the arena, hidden behind steel doors, lay the Golden Archives. Dust, silence, and the hum of old machines filled the chamber. Within the depths of the Archive lay a lab.

Nate revealed what he had pieced together—Grayden’s great-grandfather, a scientist in 1947, had faced the Cyanus Collectivum when they first came to Earth. They were seeking ways to repopulate their dying species by enslaving humans. Grayden’s great-grandfather had slain their leader. The Cyanus swore revenge, vowing to return in 78 years. 

(Grayden’s great-grandfather slaying the leader of the Cyanus)

Grayden’s breath caught. “They think I’m him.”

Nate nodded. “They don’t understand our lifespan. To them, you are him—reborn, unchanged. That’s why they’ve targeted you, sent you the suit, obsessed over you. They think you’re the man who defied them.”

In April 2025, they came back—mistaking Grayden for the same man, not understanding human lifespans. Every attack, every manipulation, was aimed at him. They did not know the truth.

(Grayden opening the old safe)

After a uniform shift by Grayden into his Gold. Grayden and PDU-166 together opened a steel safe. Inside was a letter, yellowed with time. Addressed to Grayden, a deathbed confession from his great-grandfather. For Grayden, 2025. Hands trembling, Grayden opened it.

(Grayden reading the letter)

The letter detailed Cyanus biology, weaknesses, and their true goals. It ended with a directive: “When they return, they will seek me. They will find you instead. They do not know time as we do. They will not understand. Their biology is alien—their minds, hivebound. They can be beaten, but only if you carry the knowledge I have left. Their weakness lies in resonance. Sound, vibration, frequency—these are their cracks. Use this knowledge. Finish what I began.”

At the bottom, a final line: “They will believe you are me. Let them. Use their error to end this. Do what I could not.”

Grayden folded the letter, fire burning in his chest. He looked at Nate. “Then we build a weapon. Not for the game. For the war.”

(PDU-84 and PDU-166 working on a weapon to defeat the Cyanus)

And in the depths of the archives, golden sparks lit the machines. Back in his Polo Drone uniform, Grayden now PDU-084 along with PDU-166 began their creation knowing time was not on their side.

------

Golden Bros/Cyan Drones and SERVE drones mentioned in order in this quarter:

Grayden #84/PDU-084 @polo-drone-084

Alex/PDU-151 @polo-drone-151

Alton #77 @alton-gold77

Ares #10 (CC-010 in the story) @goldengod-ares10

Maximus #70 @polo-drone-070

Tamerlan #73 (CC-073 in the story) @polo-drone-073

Izzy #45 @isaac-gold-45

Kasper #90 @pdu-090

Brody #11 @brodygold

Jordan #40 @jordan-gold-40

Wells #58 @wells-gold58

Trey (CC-022 in the story) @hero21us

Boone #96/PDU-096 @polo-drone-096

Leon #35 (CC-035 in the story) (Tumblr not known)

Jasim #33 (CC-033 in the story) @jasimgold

Grant #43 @grant-gold

Ezan #1 @polo-drone-001

SERVE-425 @serve-425

Nate/PDU-166 @polo-drone-166

Devon/PDU-767 (CC-767 in the story) @polo-drone-767

Leander #88 (CC-088 in the story) @leander-gold-88

CC-047, CC-027, CC-042, and CC-004 are NPCs made for the match not based off any golden bros

----

DISCLAIMERS:

Gold is not affiliated with SERVE, any SERVE drones present in the story chose to collaborate with Gold with proper permissions and consent.

We are aware that jersey numbers 0-55 are more common in basketball, certain jersey numbers are uncommon, and sometimes certain jersey numbers specify or are favored by certain positions, this is a fictional match please do not comment on the accuracy of the jersey numbers to real life. We're just trying to have fun.

We are sorry for any inconsistencies in pictures, we have a lot of bros helping with pictures so they happen.

-----------

The action-packed conclusion (and an alternative ending) are coming soon.

Want to join the Golden Army to play in our next match or interact with our bros, contact one of our recruiters @brodygold, @polo-drone-001, or @polo-drone-125 (More recruiters may be coming soon)

[eliasgold20]

Elijah the Gold Prep pt. 2

After walking out of professor Percival's office, Elijah found himself in the passengers seat of his car. The vintage vehicle matched the professors office, a shimmering bright gold. Elijah was still dazed and confused, perhaps even more so due to the strong smell of professor Percival's strong cologne. He doesn't know why he went into his car, he knew he needed good grades, but everything before was a blur. Classical music plays on the radio as Percival keeps driving, only breaking the near half hour of silence when they get close to their destination.

"Now Elijah, to pass my class there are a few rules, do not speak just nod your head," Percival begins. Elijah nods mindlessly.

"when we get to the house you are to walk with me to a room and stay there," Elijah nods his head.

"Do not speak to anyone in the building unless I give you permission," Elijah nods.

"From here on out the answer to every question is "Yes, Daddy." "Yes Sir" will also suffice but please limit the latter."

"yes Daddy." Elijah says mindlessly. "Wait What?" Elijah thought. He didn't date say it out loud. Why would his professor demand such a thing? Was this some weird kidnapping thing? Surely, not. It couldn't be. Elijah just needed to go along with it.

"Good boy," Percival says, for some reason breaking Elijah out of his daze enough to let out a wide grin. "Now, we're home." Home? Elijah thought.

Elijah remained seated for his daddy to open the door, unbuckling him and pulling him out before linking his arm around Elijah's.

"follow me Elijah, I want you somewhere first." Walking up to the estate, Elijah couldn't help be taken aback by its beauty. The men were in the car driving through woods and forest, far away from civilization. The estate though, was gorgeous. A massive mansion in shiny gold. The inside was marble floors, mosaic and Chinese art filled the walls, surrounding a grand staircase. At the head of the staircase was a giant portrait of Percival, looking devilishly handsome as ever. "Right this way."

The two make their way up the stairs and through the corridors of the house. The building itself could be a school by its size but it was where Percival called home. Eventually the pair made their way to a far away room.

"you will stay here Elijah, until I summon you. One of my workers will guide you. Enjoy the rest for now." Percival opens the door with a key and leaves the corridor. Elijah entered the room to find a bed with satin sheets, velvet sheets by a window looking out a courtyard, a private gold plated bathroom, but what caught his eye most was the closet.

The walk in closet connected to the room was fully stocked. Lining the walls were three piece suits, french-cuffed button up attires, toes, belts, leather shoes, most all a shimmering gold like Percival.

"what is this place?" Elijah said allowed take aback by the room. One thing that caught his eye was a box on his bed, containing a golden bottle of Ralph Lauren Cologne. "Well this wouldn't hurt," Elijah said before spritzing the cologne. Just as Percival's cologne did for him before, the cologne filled his mind, making him go dizzy and a bit tired. It was at this point he heard a knock at the door. Dragging his worn sneakers across the phone, Elijah opened the door to a man in a tight fitting black polo shirt and black jeans, the only color being a golden wreath on the right side of his chest.

"Master Percival is ready to see you in the shop, you will follow me," the servant said. Elijah didn't have the space to question the request, he just nodded happily.

Soon, Elijah found himself in a new room, looking like a 1950s barber shop.

"There is my boy," Percival said coming to Elijah, greeting him with a kiss. The cool breath of Percival leaked into Elijah's mouth, making his dizziness even worse. "I'm sorry I kept so much from you, I promise I'll explain it all in time, as of right now, have a seat." Percival guides Elijah to a barbers chair before a wall that functioned as a mirror. Elijah took his seat saying the one thing he knew how to say,

"Yes Daddy." Percival massages the boys head, his fingers seemingly drilling in Elijahs brain, melting it continuously. He throws over Elijah a golden smock and picks up a pair of scissors. Elijah doesn't process what is going on, he just listens to his daddy.

"Elijah, I must say I'm happy you came into my office. I can tell you're a good kid you just need help," Percival starts as snipping can be heard around Elijah.

"Yes Daddy." Elijah mindlessly responds, his mind melting more by each minute.

"I see potential in you Elijah. You graduated your high school with honors, president of the chess club, but you got a taste of freedom and burnt out all too common for boys your age." Now buzzing could be heard, along with a razor to the back of Elijah's head.

"Yes Daddy." It was true, Elijah did use to be a good kid. Now none of this was true, Elijah was smart but never applied himself in school. But whatever daddy said magically came true.

"That's why I wanted to tell you my decision," Percival says turning Elijah around, "Lean back dear I'm going to wash your hair," Elijah obliges. "I will not change your grade, you don't deserve it, you failed." The words cut deep into Elijah, he should lash out, all of this but no change in grade? He was being played. But he didn't lash out, he only said...

"Yes Daddy."

"I will however get you a better grade, better grades I should say." Percival applies a shampoo and conditioner from a golden bottle to Elijah's hair. "This is very expensive product, you better appreciate it. But I digress. Starting today, you will live here as my boy as you always should have. You will dress properly, behave yourself, and become a model student. A golden student." The shampoo and conditioner finally dissolves Elijah's brain completely. Any memories of partying were gone. All he knew, and remembered was daddy in his golden suit. The water stops

"Yes Daddy," Elijah says. Percival gets to Elijahs eye level and speaks to him authoritatively.

"you know why I always wear gold Elijah?" He questions, "Gold binds everyone, it showcases high status, perfection, unity. It bonds all of us, brings out the best in everyone, it is the gift of this world. That's why my life is to represent it, as will be yours."

"Yes Daddy," Elijah confirms. All he can think about is looking like daddy, acting like daddy, being like daddy.

"Good boy, now," Percival turns the chair back to the mirror, "What do you think?" Elijah stares into the mirror. His long brown locs of hair are now pin straight strands of perfection. Well, almost. Percival takes out a gold tube of gel, pouring a liberal amount in his hands.

"This will minimize frizz, maintain order, and ensure perfection." Percival rubs the gel onto Elijah's hair, making his hair stick in a perfect, preppy cut. "Now boy, you must get dressed. My servant left an outfit on your bed. Get changed and meet me downstairs for your first command.

"Yes Daddy!" Elijah wasn't monotone this time, but ecstatic for the chance to obey. He rushes to his room in a brisk walk, finding on his satin sheet today's outfit. A gold vest, cotton briefs, a French cuffed shirt, a bowtie, short chino pleated shorts, loafers and knee-high socks. The outfit was perfect. He put the outfit on, revelling in the tight fight of the crisp button up, the breeze on his bare thighs from the shorts, the comfort of the socks, the security of the bowtie, the stiffness of the shoes. He ran to the mirror. He looked like daddy's boy, and he couldn't be happier. Faster than he could run to the main hall, he grabbed his unwashed, slovenly sweatshirt, boxer shorts, tennis shoes and jeans and threw them in in the golden pail in the corner. He wouldn't be seen dead in them.

As Elijah makes his way to the corridor, daddy is there with a pail and cleaning supplies. First thing boy, while you live with me you will be expected to do chores. Take these and clean the mud you carelessly tracked in. Percival hands Elijah the supplies and walks to the sitting room to read his paper.

"Yes Daddy!" Elijah loved chores, he loved having responsibilities, more so he loved the affirmation from daddy when he did a good job. He hummed to himself and smiled as he scrubbed the marble floors until he saw his preppy reflection. When he was done he ran to his daddy, craving affirmation.

"Good boy!" Percival said, filling Elijah with pride. "Now another chore. Polish daddy's shoes while he reads his paper. I want to look my best before we go out to dinner." A shoe polishing set was set off to the side, Elijah happily obliged.

"Yes Daddy!" He scrubbed daddy's shoes with glee, knowing he was helping the man who had taken him in.

"By the way boy," Percival says flipping through his papers, "I took a look at your schedule. I took the liberty of adding French, Mandarin and Latin to your schedule. No boy of mine will be uncultured. Your major has also changed. You will study accounting and history, set you up for a pre-Corporate Law trafk. Additionally you also have etiquette classes after the school day on Tuesday and Thursday, chess club meets Monday Wednesday and Friday, they get out the same time I'm done so we will go to and from school together, and I will take you to soccer practice, understood?" Percival demanded. Elijahs response was as consistent as his love for Percival,

"Yes Daddy!"

Elijah the Gold Prep

Part. 1 Young Elijah was quite the normal kid. Like any other guy in his early 20s you could see him in grey sweats, maybe ripped jeans, a

To experience your best self, join the Golden Army by contacting our recruiters @polo-drone-001 @goldenherc9 and @brodygold

[brodygold]

The Brocess

You sat in the reception area, glancing around at the others. Your competition. Every one of you wanted to join the Golden Army, the elite sports club that had quickly become legendary. Invitations were rare, and you knew the journey to acceptance was grueling. But here you were, waiting for your interview after weeks of preparation. The stakes had never felt higher.

You had sent in your application, half-expecting to be ignored, but the Golden Army had replied within days. Their response was casual, almost cocky, inviting you to come in for an interview. “Just part of the brocess,” they said. You weren’t sure what to make of that.

Finally, the receptionist calls your name. Heart pounding, you rise and follow him through a gleaming corridor until you reach a door that looks like it belongs to royalty. As it swings open, the room beyond takes your breath away—gold everywhere. Gold walls, a golden desk, even the light had a warm, golden hue. And sitting behind that desk, wearing the coveted Golden Army jersey, was the man you had spoken with on the phone.

He looked up from his paperwork with a grin, almost like he knew this moment was a formality. “Sup, bro. Name’s Hades.”

You clear your throat, trying to mask your nerves. “Uh, hey. I’m here for the interview… hoping to join the Golden Army.”

Hades leaned back in his chair, an amused smile playing on his lips. “Yeah, I figured. You wouldn’t be here if you didn’t want in, right?” He grabs a clipboard, twirling his pen between his fingers. “Let’s get you brocessed then. First question: Are you ready to boost your bros when they’re down?”

The question seemed easy enough, but there was a weight to it. Being part of the Golden Army wasn’t just about soccer—it was about the bond, the brotherhood. You’d heard stories of the lengths they went to for each other. This was more than a game.

“Yes, absolutely,” you reply with conviction. “I’ll be there for my bros.”

Hades jots something down, not breaking eye contact. “Good. Next question: What’s your favorite soccer position?”

You pause. The Golden Army is known for its skill on the field, and while you know your way around a soccer ball, you wonder if this is a trick question. Do they want players with specific talents? Or are they looking for someone flexible, willing to play where needed? Either way, honesty seems like the only path forward.

You answer truthfully, and Hades gives a slight nod, scribbling again. “Alright, noted.”

The interview stretches on, each question probing a different aspect of what it means to be part of this brotherhood—your loyalty, your drive, your passion for the game. Hades asks with an effortless confidence, like he’s already decided whether you’re in or not, and you’re just waiting for the verdict. Hours feel like minutes as the tension in the room builds. You feel his eyes on you, weighing every word.

Finally, after what feels like an eternity, Hades sets his pen down and folds his hands. A slow smile spreads across his face. “Congrats, bro. You’re in.”

The relief washes over you, and you exhale for the first time in what feels like hours. Hades stands, crossing the room to a golden closet and pulling out the iconic jersey. “Now, let’s get you suited up—and we’ve got to give you your new name.” He tosses the jersey toward you, and you catch it, your heart racing. The material feels heavier in your hands than you imagined, like it’s carrying the weight of every victory the Golden Army has earned.

As you pull the jersey over your head, the transformation feels real. Your arms and legs grow out, not too much but enough to make a difference on the soccer field. Your mind slows, focusing only on the golden army and your new bros. Hades is looking more and more attractive by the second. You’ll have to thank him in a special way later.

Hades grins as he looks you over. “Welcome to the Golden Army, bro. Practice starts soon. You’re gonna love it.”

You glance down at your new name and number stitched into the fabric. It’s official now. And as you head toward the field, any doubts you once had vanish. You’ve made the right choice. This was always where you were meant to be.

[toyastales]

It Is All In The Details: Gaurav Gupta Gold Body Armor Top

https://toyastales.blogspot.com/2024/12/it-is-all-in-details-gaurav-gupta-gold.html

[polo-drone-070]

The cursed chain - part 1

Hey bruhz. Hea iz, lyk, me first propa long story n all. Sum shit dat happend 2 me on, lyk, Halloween. Twas, lyk, real erd getting all dem werd rite n propa. But yer, I hope u lyk it, init.

1. On the morning of Hallowen 

It all began on the morning of Halloween. I woke up feeling good and really stoked. It has been a bit more than a month since I’ve received the Gold brocess and joined the Gold Army, becoming Henry Gold, #70, Right Fullback. I was still in awe of the way the Gold Jersey had transformed my body, loving my new hot muscles and my cleanly shaved head. I love all my new brothers and the feeling of brotherhood that holds us together. Gold is really the best feeling. 

Today was Halloween and I had two things to be excited for. Herc bro had decided to form a wrestling team more properly and was doing some try outs before lunch. Even though I did not have much experience in that sport, I was really excited to join the new team and do some wrestling with my bros. Then, in the evening, the Team had planned a big party for Halloween and it was going to be epic. I already had some basis for my costume, planning to go as a gladiator, but I missed some embellishments.

Going to the attic to search if I could find some elements in all the old stuff stored there, I felt, like, drawn to a dusty box in a corner. Inside, there was a really shiny gold chain collar that seemed to draw me in. It looked so cool. Much better than the thin chain I often wore. Transfixed, I took that chain, which seems to have some kind of inner glow, and could resist putting it around my neck. I felt some kind of shiver, as if some spectral hands were brushing my head, but it was just a fleeting impression that quickly receded. 

Looking at myself in the mirror, I felt right. This chain was propa lit. Then I realised it was already 10. I had not seen the time pass. It was time to go for the wrestling tryouts. I quickly made my way through the busy streets brimming with Halloween decorations and reached the Gym where Herc was holding the tryouts.

2. The Wrestling try-outs

As I arrived, Herc was giving a gold wrestling singlet to each of the bros that wanted to join. He had shaved his hair with Jack recently and I was so glad that we were rocking it as a bald bro trio. Looking at these shiny singlets, I was so stoked to get mine. It did not have a number and name yet, of course, since it was just tryouts for now, but I was determined to get in and represent da Team in competitions and all.

I changed quickly, eager to get that gold on my skin. I was of course supposed to get the collar off for wrestling, but somehow, I could not get myself to remove it.

Herc paired us for some matches, and I ended up against Leander. It was going to be a hard match, cause Leander was really fit and quick on the field. We got on the mat and got ready to wrestle each other. 

Damn, bro was both quick and powerful. I tried to hold me own, but we got on the ground and he was, like, completely dominating me. I felt powerless and frustrated as he was pinning me down hard. There was no way I fail on the first match. Herc might not want me in the team if I did not reverse that situation. But Leander was good, and his grip unyielding.

Sure I was going to be rejected from the Team, I was getting more and more frustrated, starting to draw in my every strength to get out of that grip. And as some rage was starting to build up, I felt some strange warmth in the collar, as some presence was responding to my call, offering me the power to break out if I only let him in. Not even thinking anymore at that point, I was ready to do anything to win. 

And then I felt it. The cold. Shivers. And like a ghost was entering my body. And then the cold was gone and replaced by an intense heat taking over all my body… As if my blood was boiling. Pure rage invaded my every being as my muscles distorted and grew in absurd proportion. I was becoming a muscle beast, seething with pure rage and not controlling anything anymore, ready to destroy anything that would come in my way. 

I brutally ejected Leander from his grip. He had no chance against my rage. I was going to destroy him and tear all his limbs out for humiliating me in front of my bros. He felt badly on the ground, hurting his shoulder, but I didn't care. I was going to stomp him.

And then I felt a huge presence towering over me. Herc has transformed into Dagda, his celtic golden form. His aura just overpowered me completely, shutting me down as he intervenes to stop the fight. His authority was just too much even for my blind rage and and just fell on the ground… my muscles still twitching. I returned to my form completely exhausted, barely aware of what had happened and heard Herc telling me : « Henry, Wat da fuck ? datz no wey to act on a ring. Get ut n cool down bruh. cant av u hurtin ur bro lyk dat ! » Leander was still on the ground, clutching his shoulder. I felt shame and sadness. I had no energy left to argue. I got out of the gym, completely demoralized. I had blown it ! I did not even get what got into me. And as I was ruminating what just happened, hurt in my hopes, feeling Herc was being unjust and all… I felt that rage returning… FUCK

Special thanks to @brodygold dat elp me write da story n correct me poor english, and to my bros Herc (@polo-drone-009) and Leander (@leander-gold-88), who agreed 4 da collab n elp me wiz dem pix.

[iapetusgoldbros]

There are a lot of different forms my bros of the Gold Army take. We’ve got superbros, guido studs, gold beast and more. Whether we’re badass bikers, juicy jocks, studs in suits, cocky Chavs or hot himbos, the gold army stands strong! Join the team bros!

[isaac-gold-45]

Issac was worried when Xavier 039 said they needed to have a talk. He knew something was off for a couple of days. So far Spring Break with the Gold Army had been fantastic and the 2 of them were getting along perfectly. They had been practicing daily for the upcoming Volleyball tournament and were doing Great. Xavier had never been in better shape and his form was perfect. Isaac was doing very well if he had to say so himself. So, when Xavier said to come and sit on the Beach Isaac knew he had something serious to say.

“Isaac” Xavier began solemnly, “I love how excited you are for this upcoming tournament”. “Yes Sir”, Isaac said, cutting him off. “Spring break has been great. The Gold Army Bros are so much Fun!!! The shot contest the other night was fan f**ckingtastic. I’ve had so much fun but I think this Volley Ball tournament will be the cherry on top” “Especially after we beat the Caps and any other team that joins” Isaac added. “That Is what I need to talk to you about Isaac”, Xavier continued. “Your enthusiasm is Great but you can’t go around insulting and putting down the Caps before the game. Being Cocky is good and I love your cocky self but this is a friendly Tournament and the Golden Army, Especially the Caps are our Brothers. You can’t go around making fun that they will lose. You can be cocky just try and downplay it for the Caps” “Yes Sir” Isaac said with disappointment in his voice. “It’s just that I know how good we are. I know that THIS is YOUR sport and that you even Refed” “But Isaac continued “I will try to tone it down if you say so Sir”.  “Good Boy” Xavier said.

“But Sir” Isaac replied, “Does that mean we don’t have a chance of winning?” “Of course not, Boy, We will Kick Ass!! We just shouldn’t brag about it beforehand.” Said Xavier with a wink.

Interested in joining us during Spring Break?

To join the Golden Army message one of our recruiters:

@goldenherc9 , @brodygold , or @polo-drone-001

@polo-drone-039

@Grayden_GoldenKnight