THE INTERN REWRITE
🌀 How Percival Became a Golden Office Drone
It started like any internship. A handshake. A desk. A suit that didn’t quite fit.
Percival thought he was walking into a corporate future. Assistant to Walid Gold himself, executive, recruiter, master of the hive. At the time, Percival still used words like “career,” “resume,” “identity.” How quaint.
He never saw the trap. Not until the tie.
Phase I: The Dress Code Directive
“Here,” Walid said. “Let me fix that.”
The gold tie wasn’t standard issue. But Walid wrapped it around his neck with such forceful calm, Percival didn’t resist. The fabric shimmered. The embroidery on his shirt had changed too— PERCIVAL // INTERN —not a name tag. A brand.
“Fix your tie,” Walid said, smoothing it into place. “Fix your mind.”
And Percival did. Something clicked, subtle, quiet, deep. When he looked in the mirror that night, the gold letters seemed to glow. He stood straighter. Talked less. Thought less.
Phase II: The Monitor Method
He was assigned a solo workstation. One screen. White walls. Headphones.
Nothing loud. No orders. Just phrases scrolling in gold across the screen.
“OBEY THE TEAM.” “FORGET THE SELF.” “SUBMIT TO GOLD.”
Each scroll perfectly timed with a pulse in his headset. Each loop hollowing him just a little more.
He stopped checking the clock. He stopped taking breaks. When Walid passed by, Percival no longer looked up. He just said, “Yes, sir.” Even when no one had spoken.
Phase III: Executive Override
The door locked behind them. Walid entered, gold suit, black shirt, gloves.
“This will be the last thought you have,” he whispered.
The head harness came down from the ceiling, gleaming gold, coiling over his scalp, jaw, temples.
He twitched, but it was already too late.
The helmet pulsed. Warm. Steady. Like breath. Like control. Like command.
Golden spirals overtook his eyes. His past—deleted. His dreams, rewritten. His name, irrelevant.
“It thought it was a man.” “Now it functions as a tool.”
Phase IV: Drone Registration Complete
The next morning, he reported for duty wearing his new shirt: GOLDEN OFFICE DRONE SCHEDULER // MASCOT LIAISON
He didn’t ask questions. He didn’t have any. He walked hallways with his new smile, serene, smug, empty.
If you saw him on the street, he'd smile wider. Hold out his hand. Spiral eyes glittering.
“We’re friends, right?”
You’d nod. And follow. And forget.
✴️ REBLOG TO REMEMBER WHO YOU WERE. 💾 LIKE TO ACCEPT YOUR NEW ROLE. 🌀 DM TO REQUEST YOUR TIE.