goldenarmyofficial

[goldenarmyofficial]

⚜️ Golden Unity Before the Game: The Cyan Threat Emerges ⚜️

The Golden arena’s lights pulsed golden, painting every surface with radiant anticipation. The Golden Army had gathered in various places to get ready. After over a week of preparation for their challenge, it was less than two hours until the match was set to begin. The gymnasium echoed with the dull thuds of bouncing basketballs, golden sneakers squeaking against the polished court. 

Brody stood at center court, the Captain’s aura undeniable, gesturing with sharp precision as Brock leaned in. Their heads were close, golden sweatbands gleaming under the floodlights as they whispered tactics—fast breaks, man-to-man coverage, how to shut down Cyan’s perimeter shooters. Together, they plotted defensive schemes and offensive drives. Each word was clipped, decisive. Brody’s golden eyes burned with certainty: the Golden Army would not falter. Brock stated determined, “Cyan won’t breathe easy this game.”

Tonight, the basketball court was no mere battleground of sport – it was a war against the Cyan Collective. 

While strategy was drawn, in the middle of the court, PDU-039 received the encrypted comms ping. Its rubber gloves tapped the black-and-gold communicator, a low monotone acknowledging connection. PDU-001’s commanding presence crackled through first, instructing. PDU-073 layered protocols—patterns of entry, exit, and crowd control. Finding potential perimeter vulnerabilities. PDU-125 confirmed reinforcement of water supply lines, nutrient stations, all concealed within the bleachers; ensuring a drone would always be kept on the water and sports drink monitoring to avoid potential tampering. Security was not secondary. It was absolute. “Security detail locks at 1800 sharp,” 001 intoned. “039 you will oversee the choke-points. No breach tolerated.” 

PDU-039’s voice resonated, calm and firm: “Directive received. The Hive secures. The Army plays.”

The four level two Polo drones continued to discuss additional security from SERVE drones. Through collaboration a few SERVE drones agreed to help ensure no harm would come to the Golden Army’s fans from Cyan, during the match. SERVE’s strong programming made them nearly impervious to Cyan’s mental tricks and mind games. 

Meanwhile, in one of Gold’s underground labs, Grayden, the Head Mascot and appointed interim Basketball coach, leaned against the wall, his sharp icy eyes focused on Franco. Grayden was emanating a restless energy, tonight his role extended far beyond just hyping up his bros. Grayden took notice of Franco wearing a special basketball jersey, one he claimed was from one of his various experiments on the cyan morphsuits. Standing with Franco and PDU-166, the three leaned over a workbench stacked with strange metallic canisters filled with a rubber-like substance that glistened under the UV light.

Franco held a small metallic canister in his hands, the surface glinting. “It resists Cyan threads,” Franco explained, almost reverently. “Rubber that neutralizes their suits. They won’t weave through it, won’t breathe right in it.” PDU-166 stood silently behind them, posture perfect, absorbing details with drone efficiency. Grayden’s jaw tightened. “Then distribute it. To every PDU. To every SERVE drone in the stands. Fans must remain untouched. Bros must remain protected.” Franco nodded, boots echoing as he vanished down the tunnel, purpose burning in his stride.

Grayden turned to PDU-166, the drone had remained mostly silent. Also known as Nate Gold #66, PDU-166 was known for running a lot of calculations for the team. The room grew quiet after Franco departed. Grayden began to speak, “Now we’ve got a fighting chance to revert the Cyan drones.” Grayden and Nate split up to get changed and met up a few minutes later ready to walk into the arena for the big game. Everything seemed calm, despite thoughts racing through Grayden’s mind, he thought Gold had this.  

But then—a disturbance. Grayden turned, sensing it before sight confirmed. Nate stood beside him, number 66 glowing faintly across his golden kit, eyes narrowing. A shadow entered their vision. Heavy steps. The metallic clink of reinforced soles. CC-767, the Cyan infiltrator, its suit gleaming a sickly aqua sheen, stepped forward. But worse followed. Beside 767 loomed a figure bulkier, darker. Grayden’s chest seized as realization struck—short golden hair complemented a cyan bodysuit covering a rippling chest of colossal muscles. CC-009.

Herc had been taken. Everyone thought he was on a break, but somehow, someway, and some time within the last two weeks his Godly strength had been corrupted. 

Both Grayden and Nate stood in shock, mouths agape. Nate’s fists clenched, golden aura flickering. Grayden’s breath was sharp, mechanical almost, as if refusing to believe what his eyes processed. The Golden Army’s titan, the strongest Bro, now corrupted, rebranded in Cyan. The pre-game energy shifted instantly—from hype to dread, from strategy to survival. The match had not yet begun, but already, war was here.

The Golden Army would have to play harder, fight smarter. CC-009 knew their strategies, their maneuvers. The Golden Army had a new hurdle to this match that none had anticipated. 

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Golden Army Bros/Polo Drones Referenced:

Captain Brody #11 @brodygold

Brock #46 @brockgold

PDU-039 @polo-drone-039

PDU-001 @polo-drone-001

PDU-073 @polo-drone-073

PDU-125 @polo-drone-125

Grayden #84 @polo-drone-084

Franco #94 @franco-gold94

Nate #66/PDU-166 @polo-drone-166

Devon #67/PDU-767 (CC-767 in story) @polo-drone-767

Herc #09/PDU-009 (CC-009 in story) @goldenherc9

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If you would like to join the Golden Army, contact one of our recruiters, they are 001, Brody, and 125 who are all listed above.

[goldenarmyofficial]

Cyan Collective Roster Assessment

It was less than a week until the challenge match against the Cyan Collective. Grayden, had been doing everything he could to ensure the team was prepared, but there was one lingering issue he noticed.

The roster, not Gold's roster though. Cyan's. Normally by now he had some inclination of who the opposing team might start or play with. Basketball teams were at most 15 members. However the Cyan Collective did well to hide intel on their player drones, their former identities, and the starting line-up.

There was only one solution, hack into their database to find out any information on their players. Anything he could use to help build Gold's perfect line-up.

He knew just the bro, or drone, for the job. PDU-166, also known as Nate. Grayden spoke to PDU-166 and with drone-like hyperfocus, he got to work. Security barriers cleared in seconds, any Firewalls disabled.

Within a few minutes, PDU-166 was in. His screen turning Cyan from the Cyan's database.

They read and looked over the database. Despite having at least 30+ drones, the details on the Cyan Collectives players limited it down to only a small handful. Some didn't even have any pictures or notes about their face behind the cyan.

Grayden instructed 166 to run a cross-reference on the drones with missing person's reports from the sports teams they faced and areas of the Golden World Tour.

Eventually they ran statistics to determine the most likely starting line-up.

Cyan Drones 60, 8, 4, 53, and 17.

Cyan Collectives Basketball Roster (Starters)

Cyan Drone #60 (C)

Cross reference findings:

Name: Dietrich

Prior occupation/team/hive: Unknown, potentially from SERVE hive.

Relation to Gold: Unknown

Notes: 60 appears to be a strong rebounder. He is taller than everyone else on their team. He is often silent, but calculated.

Cyan Drone #8 (SG)

Cross reference findings:

Name: Orin

Prior occupation/team/hive: Mascot for the Orange State Ocelots

Relation to Gold: Friendly team dynamic with Gold, friend of Grayden due to mascot connection.

Notes: One of the newer players to the Cyan Collective. Cyan Drone 8 handles the ball with precision making a high percentage of three-point shots. Has cat-like reflexes.

Cyan Drone #4 (PG)

Cross reference findings:

Name: DeShawn

Prior occupation/team/hive: Captain of the Orange State Basketball Team

Relation to Gold: Brother of RaShawn, Orange State Ocelot Volleyball Captain and friend of Gold.

Notes: Cyan Drone 4 is fast and agile. The captain of the Cyan Collective. Great at passing and making big plays.

Cyan Drone #53 (SF)

Cross reference findings:

Name: Arturo

Prior occupation/team/hive: A star player from Xenon Xolos, another team in Gold's league

Relation to Gold: In the same league, may know some of the Hispanic/Latino members of Gold. Definitely knows Leon.

Notes: The most versatile player, 53 appears to be a jack of all trades. 53 appears to have the deepest connection with the Cyanus on the team often reminding others to serve their Masters. He is quite charismatic, so he is capable of recruiting and converting new drones for the team.

Cyan Drone #17 (PF)

Cross reference findings:

Name: Saburō

Prior occupation/team/Hive: Player on a Japanese Basketball team

Relation to Gold: Unknown, likely captured around the time of Gold's visit to Japan

Notes: Cyan drone 17 is a physical player. Despite not being bulky, 17 has strong capabilities in offense and defense that can be hard to match.

Additional Players:

Cyan Drone #27 (PF, Name and details unknown)

Notes: Cyan Drone 27's face has yet to be revealed in any match. Its capabilities are unknown, but shouldn't be underestimated.

Cyan Drone #33 (C, Jasim, Captured player from Gold)

Notes: Captured by the Cyanus and Cyan Collective. Has God-like strength. Caution advised.

Cyan Drone #35 (SG, Leon, Captured player from Gold)

Notes: Likely captured by Cyan Drone 53. Fast and agile, while still having a strong core.

Cyan Drone #42 (SF, Name and details unknown)

Notes: Like Cyan Drone 27, 42's face has never been revealed.

Cyan Drone #47 (PG, Abdul, Captain of the Mauve Marauders)

Notes: Captured captain of the Mauve Marauders. Known for being strategic and a strong passer.

Cyan Drone #51 (SG, Zavion, recruit of Neon Vortex Soccer team)

Notes: Captured recruit from Neon Vortex. Appears to have mastered mind tricks and is a strong three-pointer shooter.

Cyan Drone #56 (PF, Oleg, late string player from Pachy Pack Ice Hockey Team and brother of Ivan/Pachy the Pachy Pack's mascot)

Notes: Exact capabilities unknown, likely has strong resilience and strength like his brother, Ivan.

Cyan Drone #61 (C, Liam, newly drafted defender from the Emerald Titans American Football team)

Notes: A strong defense who will do almost anything to avoid his teammates being tackled.

Reserve Players:

Cyan Drone #22 (SF, additional details not in the database)

Notes: Seems to be a new player for the Cyan Collective or one they have less control over. Suspected to be a spot for Trey Gold, who the Cyan Collective has been targeting with mind games.

Cyanus #66 (PG, An actual Cyanus who plays)

Notes: Uses mind tricks to look like just another player. Not as fast as others, but has a strong shooting arm. Utilizes mind tricks to cause opponents to make mistakes.

Cyan Cheer squad:

Cyan Drone #767 (additional details not in the database)

Notes: Believed to be a captured PDU-767 who was captured while out of PDU uniform. Exact details unknown.

Grayden and Nate reviewed. This would be the probable roster of the Cyan Collective. They had to keep this knowledge to just trusted team members to ensure the Cyan Collective didn't make any major last minute changes.

-------

Grayden is @polo-drone-084

Nate is @polo-drone-166

-----

Our match is fast approaching, but if you want to join the Golden Army contact one of our recruiters:

@polo-drone-001 @brodygold @polo-drone-125

[goldenarmyofficial]

Assistance Needed: Help Us Defeat the Cyanus

The Golden Army requests the assistance of all of our fans, supporters, opponents, rivals, etc. We want your help defeating these aliens who are trying to take us down.

The Cyanus Collectivum are a cyan skinned alien race with tall and slender stature. They are trying to turn others into their drones in a nonconsensual manner. They will kidnap and use mind tricks to turn men into their Cyan drones, clad in light blue morphsuits.

We need those strong mentally with the ability to not easily be taken down with mental tricks, to help us defeat the Cyanus. Destroy their operations. Help us teach them they aren't welcome here while we work to defeat their drones and free them from their deeply brainwashed state.

Please assist us in defeating this common foe. Feel free to tag us to show your support.

[goldenarmyofficial]

Preparing for a Match to Save the World: Gold vs The Cyan

A mysterious letter had appeared in Grayden's office on his desk. Immediately upon seeing the seal he knew the author. The Cyanus and The Cyan Collective, an alien foe and their drones who had been following him since April.

Upon opening the letter, Grayden saw in clear penmanship a threatening message. "We haven't forgotten you, Grayden."

Grayden knew immediately that this was a warning. He was told they were coming much sooner, but they had been watching him. He wasn't going to let this stand by any longer.

"Emergency meeting now!" Grayden screamed to management.

The others had never seen Grayden so aggravated. The others took their seats and Grayden took no time for pleasantries. He flipped on a projector and started explaining.

"Bro's we have an alien issue. These cyan aliens have been stalking me. Trying to recruit me to their legion of drones. I'm tired of sitting back and letting this happen. It is time for action!"

Captain Brody and the others listened as Grayden laid out his plan. A basketball match to end the Cyan Collective and The Cyanus.

"We have to have a plan of attack. They will use mind games against us if we aren't prepared."

----

The Golden Army will face The Cyan Collective on Saturday, August 16th. The stakes would be high, Grayden knew from videos of what The Cyan Collective and their alien masters did to losing teams. Captains, mascots, star players, high potential rookies, all going missing. But they weren't really missing, they were transformed into more nameless Cyan Drones.

The only way to tell they were the former captured men is if the face of the drone's light blue morphsuit/zentai was down. But even then their memory was not accessible. They were solely drones for their alien masters.

MATCH DETAILS:

Location: Golden Army Basketball Arena

Date: Saturday, August 16th

Start Time: 6 PM EST/10 PM GMT

Opponent: The Cyan Collective

The Cyan Collective is expected to utilize tricks and mind games to get in the team's heads. In addition to standard training we will need to enforce our mental fortitude to ensure they can't corrupt us.

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Team members, share your stories and prep to boost our chances of victory.

If you want to join us to help us face the Cyan Collective, contact one of our recruiters. @polo-drone-001 @brodygold @polo-drone-125

Don't want to join us, but still want to help? Reposts and likes on the team members' posts help us succeed.

Fans and other groups can also help us, by stopping the Cyanus and any interference they may cause.

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[goldenarmyofficial]

Golden Army vs Neon Vortex - part 2

INTERLUDE — Golden Recalibration At the whistle, Gold retreated with control. One up, but not resting. Vortex looked shaken but not broken. Zendrix’s visor glowed slightly brighter as he walked off. Rixen stared straight into the tunnel light.

The Flux Crew moved like dancers around the Vortex bench. Kio, pale-eyed and sure, paced each player, pulse-calming fluid ready. But the rhythm—they felt it falter.

Meanwhile, in the tunnel shadow, the Gold did not rest. They recalibrated.

Nils (@nils-gold-34) moved first—fluid, precise—gloves already chilled to match neural modulation. Trevor (@polo-drone-125) directed breathwork cycles with his headset, syncing heartbeats. Nate (@polo-drone-166) crouched by Franco (@franco-gold94), injecting electrolytes directly into the boot-lining thread, recharging kinetic memory.

Tamerlan (@polo-drone-073) and Ezan (@polo-drone-001) stood still—receiving.

“Don’t correct the rhythm,” Nate whispered to Brock (@brockgold), now lacing his boots. “Bend it.”

Outside, mist parted as The Golden Knight (@polo-drone-084) stepped forward, banner unfurled behind him. Milo (@polo-drone-151) and Chevy (@chevy-gold) spun like signal drones, Riley (@rileygold60) raised two fingers. The counter-wave launched. Golden fans began to rise.

Inside, the Gold were silent. Ready.

SECOND HALF — Neon's Resistance (46'–60')

When the teams reemerged, the Glowring breathed harder.

Cyan threads cascaded from above like trailing code. The Pulse moved in tight bursts—sharp, anticipatory. But the tempo had changed. Gold’s control wasn’t just strategy—it was heat. Momentum.

Substitution: Brock for Izzy (@isaac-gold-45). Izzy had played a good game, but keeping up to a formidable opponent like Zendrix took its strain. Coach Chet (@thecorruptisland) counted on Brock to change the tempo.

Brock entered like static. Sharp. Energetic. Fresh legs, fresh hunger. He met Zendrix’s tempo not with symmetry—but with refusal. He didn’t align—he defied Zendrix’s tempo.

Franco now ruled midfield space. Tamerlan rotated around him like a second sun—no longer only calculating but feeling. Each pass was lighter. Each touch more instinctual. The crowd couldn’t read him.

Zendrix narrowed his eyes.

It didn’t work.

But Neon’s defense hadn’t cracked—not yet.

Axion Drift took command, gestures crisp and absolute. One flick pulled Zane Rho tighter. A nod repositioned Remy Zhou. His eyes flicked to Rixen—sync locked. The gold wave came.

Herc (@goldenherc9) came barreling down the right. Remy stepped in, trying to check his momentum, but the Golden Captain burst past with elemental force. Axion met him mid-turn—reading, predicting. One slide, one mirror angle. No foul. Possession flipped.

Roars surged from both sides. The Golden Knight stood with blade lifted to the Pulse, unmoved.

Then Xavier (@polo-drone-039) pierced the midfield line—threaded a pass like a wire through chaos. Ezan caught it on the run. One fake, one drop—Zane fell.

Herc waited in shadow—marked. Ezan saw no lane. Fired instead.

It bent inward, stung with pace. Rixen moved before the crowd even reacted. He dove—full extension. Hands met the ball. Just enough.

Clang.

Crossbar shook. Crowd shrieked.

Franco dove for the loose ball—instant, perfect. But Rixen moved again—inhuman reflex. One palm—denial. Corner.

The Glowring pulsed. Golden Knight slammed his shield, and led the Golden fans into a roaring chant to maintain the pressure on the resisting Neon. Brock’s arc spun toward Brody. Zendrix rose—unnatural height—snatched it and reset. Out to Tariq.

But Xavier hunted. Intercepted. One touch to Franco. Flick to Ezan. Snap to Brody (@brodygold).

Axion Drift—one step ahead.

One touch. One steal.

Vortex still stood. But pressure made its cracks.

After Rixen’s series of impossible saves, the crowd pivoted. The Glowring thrummed in Pulse blue. Glythorn stood tall again, arms wide, as the Waves ignited the chant: “Distort! Distort!”

Zendrix responded—pushing forward, tapping his band to speed tempo. Coach Syv send Jorren Alix to replace Tariq, faded, exhausted. The fresh new sub, used to overcome pressure, brought new energy. Even Kio began pacing faster, synchronizing breath to signal.

For a moment, it felt like comeback.

Echo in Breakage (61'–70')

Just as Zendrix tried to accelerate the tempo again, Jorren launched a blind-side overlap—perfect timing, perfect decoy. But Christian (@polo-drone-055) read it like script. One calculated arc. One decisive step.

The space collapsed.

Jorren’s rhythm crashed against Christian’s logic—ball stolen, threat evaporated.

No celebration. No sound. Christian was already repositioning. Impetus broken. Comeback denied with cold efficiency.

Then...Minute 63'. On the left wing, Devon (@polo-drone-767) made a rare run. The drone-turned-defender burst forward—Golden kit rippling, motion perfect. The crowd’s noise dimmed in his ears. He didn’t hear cheers or jeers. Just the command in his brain: Advance. Deliver. Serve.

He did.

He found Franco, who volleyed it toward Herc, who dummied past Rey Kiro, pulling two defenders off. And there—slicing through the gap—was Tamerlan.

⚽ GOAL – Minute 64’ Tamerlan – right boot volley, one bounce, net kiss.

He didn’t celebrate. He closed his eyes. The memory of Maximus (@polo-drone-070)’ drill shouts, Nate’s silent nods, Franco’s sessions—all lit behind his eyelids. This was rebirth.

Axion Drift held strong—barely. Rixen Code, the silent firewall in gloves, roared into form. He blocked two more key drives, one from Ezan, one from Herc. But for every save, Vortex’s rhythm broke further. Lex Vale failed to complete a dribble. Kael’s surges were caught early by Christian, whose field-reading now seemed supernatural.

Maximus, in his own orbit, began shadowing Vexon.

The bet had been made. The target was known.

Each sprint Vexon attempted, Maximus met—not with brutality, but with cadence-denial. He shifted lanes. Adjusted pace. Vexon tried triple feints. Maximus didn’t bite. He absorbed.

Vexon’s shine began to dull.

On the sideline, Kio stared, water bottle frozen mid-air. His eyes flicked to Maximus—and for a moment, something unreadable flashed in his silver crest.

Gold pressed. Chet raised two fingers—final shift.

Lightbreak Sequence (71'–85')

Neon Vortex now shimmered with strain.

The Pulse faltered in their wave sync. The Glowring’s cyan lace dimmed, like it sensed the tipping point. Zendrix shifted to deeper control zones, scanning for anomalies—but Gold wasn’t sending signals. They were creating noise. Intentional, gorgeous, overwhelming noise.

Chet gestured. A third substitution.

Basit (@basit015) entered, Brody stepped off with no flash, but purpose. He’d done his part—worn down Zendrix’s options, tethered the midfield threads. Gold shifted shape again—into 5-3-2. The message was clear: lockdown. Hold the rhythm. Kill their breath.

Maximus now surged higher, temporarily unshackled. He passed midfield with a single cold glance at Zendrix, who refused to engage. The coder-mage simply whispered something to his wrist pad and retreated.

Then—minute 79.

A ricochet deflection from Remy Zhou landed at Franco’s feet.

He didn’t hesitate. He never does.

Franco flicked it backward—not to a teammate, but into open space. Tamerlan saw it instantly. But so did Vexon.

For the first time, Vexon broke from Maximus’ shadow, eager for a blitz counter offensive.

He chased.

But something was wrong.

His limbs were too fast. His stride—unfocused. Maximus hadn’t just followed him. He’d tuned him.

Vexon’s own tempo was sabotaged by the very anticipation he once weaponized.

He overran it.

Tamerlan didn’t. He secured the ball, paused, then slipped it left. 

Ezan caught it with a breathless touch, then charged. Jorren tried to shadow—failed. Zane was spun with a fake. The field opened.

But then, Axion.

Like gravity shifting, the defender materialized—line cut, body angling for the tackle. No aggression. Just position. Just intent.

Ezan pushed forward anyway. Two steps. Three. Shot-line blocked.

Axion launched.

And in the blink before collision, Ezan lifted his head, saw Herc roaring down the centerline like a golden missile, and sliced a pass through the vanishing seam of space.

The Glowring lit as the crowd drew breath.

Herc met it in full stride—no hesitation. He planted, swung.

⚽ GOAL – Minute 79’ Blunt force into the upper net. 3–0. Rixen dove—touched it—but power overrode precision. The ball tore through, net rippling behind.

Kio flinched. Then stood motionless.

In the stands, Glythorn—the glitch-born Warden—collapsed into a crouch and let his shoulder emit a slow violet pulse.

The crowd fell silent for a half-second. At midfield’s edge, the Golden Knight took a single step forward and drove his blade into the turf. A shockwave of gold shimmer pulsed outward, rippling through the stands. His visor flickered once—acknowledgment.

Golden fans erupted.

Chevy and Milo twirled golden ribbons. Riley lifted both arms, sweat gleaming, throat gone raw from rally calls. The Gold tide had crossed the border.

The Last Pulse (86'–90') With five minutes left, desperation pulsed through Neon’s veins.

But the Waves didn’t sit. Their chant spiked again—“Break the wall! Pulse them down!” Glythorn crouched, pulsing violet, sending frequency bursts through the upper tiers. The Glowring flickered cyan. On the opposite side, the Golden Knight stood, defiant.

Rixen shouted, hands raised. One last surge. One last cry.

Zendrix stepped higher. Neon’s shape warped—three up front. The last Pulse drive ignited.

Kael Nova received the line-pass—flicked it blind with a phantom heel.

Xavier saw through it, snapped forward. Denial.

Devon cleared long.

Vexon refused to stop. One final burst—legs burning, eyes wild. Basit slid in. Bold, decisive. Claimed the ball like it had always belonged to him. Stood. Cleared.

The Glowring flickered. Glythorn’s visor dimmed.

Basit punched the air.

Franco, Herc, and Tamerlan worked the corner—golden shield around time itself. Rixen Code watched—but didn’t come forward.

He knew it was over.

Final whistle blew.

3 – 0.

Neon light throbbed once.

Then went still.

CLOSING — Goldshine in the Glowring

Maximus didn't celebrate. He walked to Vexon, offered no words—just nodded once. It was enough.

On the sideline, Kio lowered his bottle, stepped off his tempo line, and vanished beneath the seats.

Vernon (@vernon-gold-31) looked up. Clean sheet. Debut complete.

Brody approached Coach Chet, eyes still locked on the fading Pulse. “They came hard,” he muttered. “That keeper—Rixen? Unnatural.”

Chet nodded. “He kept it from five-nil.”

Herc threw a fist to the air. Golden cleats stomped in rhythm.

Kasper (@pdu-090) bounced on the balls of his feet, vibrating with energy. “Next one’s mine, I swear.”

Ghazi (@ghazi-gold-23) slapped his back. “Let’s earn it.”

The bench joined the stomp.

The Dominion League had begun.

And the Gold had struck first.

[MVP : Christian (@polo-drone-055), Maximus (@polo-drone-070), Herc (@goldenherc9), Franco (@franco-gold94), Tamerlan (@polo-drone-073). With exceptional support from Waterboy Nate (@polo-drone-166) as most contributing Golden Army member for the match prep.]

______

Want to taste victory with the Golden Army ? Join us by contacting @polo-drone-125 @goldenherc9 @polo-drone-001 or @brodygold.

[goldenarmyofficial]

Golden Army vs Neon Vortex - part 1

Glow Before Impact

The Flux Spiral shimmered like a living entity. Mist swirled low across the synthetic turf, refracting sharp cyan lines drawn in light beneath the stadium shell. Above, the Glowring pulsed in rhythm—first slow, then rising. In the stands, the Waveline squad initiated the first pulse gesture. Silence. Collapse. Rise. An arena of sound, born from motion.

The opening match of the Dominion League was no mere game—it was a rite of new rhythm.

For the Golden Team, this wasn’t just about redemption after their recent volleyball stumble. This was the ignition match. Their first encounter with Neon Vortex. New terrain. New flow. Gold against Pulse.

Inside the changing rooms, golden boots were laced with ritual. Maximus (@polo-drone-070), gleaming with sweat even before kickoff, helped adjust Tamerlan’s collar (@polo-drone-073) like an older brother fixing his kin for battle. Herc (@goldenherc9) and Ares (@goldengod-ares10) leaned shoulder to shoulder, syncing breath, twin gold flames about to strike. Ezan (@polo-drone-001) stood in silence, eyes closed, channeling the bridge between instinct, strategy, and discipline—his golden aura calm and sharp.

Coach Chet (@thecorruptisland) stood with arms crossed, eyes closed. Then he spoke.

“Vortex is light and pattern. You are pressure and fracture. Break their loop. Gold doesn’t react. Gold redefines.”

Herc nodded and turned to face the team.

“We hit first. We hit clean. Let them feel the gold.”

Ezan opened his eyes. Silent agreement.

Across the corridor, in the black-neon pulse of the Vortex prep room, Zendrix Halo sat still. One boot half-laced. Eyes violet-lit. Processing. Rixen Kode exhaled once, glove tips meeting glove tips. No blink. Vexon Ray tapped the bridge of his nose three times—his focus anchor—before brushing rose-quartz strands from his eyes. Kio Vant, stationed beside the Flux Crew water kit, whispered something only his tempo band understood.

Coach Syv Kohlen stood before a grid of light threads.

“You’ve run their goldstorm. Simmed every break and recoil. Tonight, you dictate their collapse.”

Zendrix nodded. “I’ll reroute before they begin.”

Vexon cracked his neck. Rixen pulled down his visor.

“Time to distort.”

The teams emerged. The Pulse was deafening.

On the east side, Glythorn stood atop the Waveline drum post, cape trailing like glitchfire. Every Pulse surge that threaded through Gold’s lines saw him emit a flicker of violet, his signal syncing with crowd chants.

“Vortex! Vortex!” the Waves thundered, pulsing in sync with Zendrix’s commands. Gold resisted—but the sound itself struck like waves against steel.

FIRST HALF — Fractures in Rhythm (0'–26')

The ball moved. Not kicked. Routed.

Zendrix Halo rerouted it through angles no one should see. Neon Vortex controlled the tempo, an early rhythm carved through calibrated pass frequency. Izzy (@isaac-gold-45) and Brody (@brodygold) adjusted posture, resisting the reroute matrix, Zendrik's tactical pattern-web designed to confuse read timing—but losing fractions of control each exchange. Together they held the midfield together—barely. Tamerlan read, hesitated, then fell back into Maximus’ zone. Still too early.

Christian (@polo-drone-055) held the flank—no flash, no waste. Just angles and return paths, recalculated every breath.

Back left, Xavier.(@polo-drone-039) ghosted forward, intercepting a secondary pulse line. ‘You waiting for an invite, Izzy?’ he barked, flicking a pass across field. Izzy grinned without looking. ‘Just letting them dream.’ The midfield tightened. Gold’s left spine began to harden.

On the edge, Vexon flickered into a run—and the Glowring dimmed on cue. Gold had trained for atmosphere, but reality had weight. Crowd pressure. Sonic pulses. Brody barked to regroup. Xavier snapped into place beside Izzy, boots nearly overlapping.

The Pulse roared as Vexon surged towards the goal, blurring past reaction time, acceleration outrunning intention. Maximus pressed hard from behind—just enough. Christian arrived a blink later, carving the angle tight. The collision was avoided, the ball chipped loose. Glowring gasped. Corner. Lex Vale kicks. Good trajectory towards Jett Harmon, but Vernon (@vernon-gold-31) is on it. Clean leap to seize the ball. Secured. Gold held.

Then came the first burst.

Herc and Ares broke through, a twin impact. Lex Vale faltered on the wing. Axion Drift read their path but barely countered the speed. Rixen’s gloves flared—white flash—and the twin strike was denied. Saved.

Coach Chet called the first adaptation. He had read it too: Neon had trained for symmetry. Twin gods had been rehearsed against. He trusted Herc and Ares to press the edge of that expectation—to crack it. But Chet didn’t want the struggle. He wanted dominance. He wanted collapse.

His gaze found Franco (@franco-gold94)—already upright, ready. The boy had studied Vortex’s every loop, counter, and burst in closed drills. And yet Neon Vortex had no read on him. No previous footage. No algorithm ready.

That was the asset.

Now was the moment.

At minute 23, Franco replaced Ares. Rhythm fractured. Gold shifted into 4-4-2. Ares nodded, sweat-slicked, accepting. He jogged to the bench, chest heaving, sweat gleaming. He clapped Herc’s shoulder on the way out. “Crack them open, Cap.” Franco entered light-footed, golden glint in his eye. His touch met the pulse of the pitch and disrupted it.

From that moment, Gold’s current changed.

Pulse Disruptor (26'–45')

Franco’s entry struck like syncopation—off-beat, perfect. Where Herc drove like an unstoppable hammer, Franco danced through shifting zones, slipping behind Zendrix’s pattern field. The midfielder’s LED-threaded boots flared once—then dimmed, conserving momentum.

Kasper (@pdu-090) shouted from the sideline, “That’s the tempo!” Ghazi (@ghazi-gold-23) was already bouncing, mirroring Franco’s movements in place. Brock (@brockgold) leaned into Basit (@basit015). “We’ll hold when they break. Watch.”

Xavier and Izzy had also begun to find tempo. ‘Pulse feels shaky,’ Xavier said. Izzy nodded. ‘They overcommitted to symmetry. Let’s bend it.’ On their next sequence, they curved the midfield—forcing Zendrix to shift.

Zendrix narrowed his gaze, recalculating.

But Gold had found the rift.

Maximus initiated a long pass—not direct, but curving, timed to Vexon’s rising pressure. Tamerlan absorbed it, one touch, then heel flicked it into Franco’s arc. Rixen shifted left, gloves widening—too late.

🏀 GOAL – Minute 26' Franco – precision shot, low corner. 1–0.

On the bench, Kasper nearly lost his balance leaping to his feet. “Franco’s cooking!” Ghazi slammed his forearm into the cooler. “Let me in already!” Ares grinned, towel around his neck, voice still hoarse. “Told you he’d flip it.

And then, the gold swell.

Christian didn’t flinch. He processed. Line read. Shoulder angle perfect. No foul. No breach. Only protocol—executed with chilling calm. He cut the path, met the charge, and nullified threat. No show. Just result. His past mistakes as human had been reforged into present drone perfection.

Across the mist-lit sideline, the Golden Knight (@polo-drone-084) raised both arms—palms glowing. He turned slowly, feeding the crowd rhythm. Gold flags unfurled in motion, Milo (@polo-drone-151) and Chevy (@chevy-gold) locking sync, Riley (@rileygold60) leading the next stomp, with Isaac shadowing him.

Gold’s pressure was no longer tactical—it was ceremonial.

Zendrix slowed the tempo again, trying to lull Gold back into overextension. But Izzy, under pressure, read better now. His coordination with Brody kept the midfield from snapping. Coach Chet observed, nodding—strain visible, but the structure held.

Devon (@polo-drone-767) held the left line like it was ritual. Silent obedience. Golden programming. Radiating. Opposite him, Christian adjusted spacing with quiet precision—no call needed. Two walls, mirrored in function.

Ezan rose in tempo, bridging zones. One interception, then a spiraled switch cross. He advanced, dribbled once, twice—then struck. Rixen dove full stretch to deny the shot, sending it barely wide. The crowd roared. Ezan exhaled, cold and composed.

Final 3 minutes: Vernon faced a low-driven shot from Kael Nova. The rookie keeper dropped low, gloves firm, catching clean. First save. Eyes forward. No theatrics.

Halftime: Gold up, 1–0. Vortex—shaken, not broken.

______

Want to face such formidable opponents with the Golden Army ? Join us by contacting @polo-drone-125 @goldenherc9 @polo-drone-001 or @brodygold.

[goldenarmyofficial]

INTO THE GLOW: INSIDE NEON VORTEX

An exclusive Dominion League special from FutureSport Journal by Lin Kael

1. “They don’t play the game. They rewire it.”

There’s a moment—right before Neon Vortex takes the field—when everything stills. The lights at the Glowring don’t dim. They pause. The stadium exhales. The crowd lowers. It’s not fear. It’s not awe. It’s... synchronization.

And then, the signal arrives.

Pink, cyan, shadow. Eight figures pacing into place without a word. Not rebels. Not legends. Just... interference in motion.

In a league full of warriors and tacticians, Neon Vortex doesn’t attack the game. They overwrite it. They move on rhythms you don’t hear until you’ve already lost the beat.

This isn’t a story about dominance. It’s about disruption. And the team built to live inside it.

2. SOVEREIGNS OF SPEED

Nobody remembers when exactly Neon Vortex was founded. That’s how most stories about disruption begin.

The official line is that Coach Syv Kohlen, a former rhythm cognition researcher, drafted the first squad using metronome trials, tempo response tests, and light-delay simulations.

But when you ask the players, they say something different. They say Kohlen didn’t recruit them. They say he tuned them.

“Systems collapse. Patterns dissolve,” Kohlen told me. “But rhythm? That survives. Because rhythm isn’t structure—it’s instinct.”

Watching Neon Vortex train is like witnessing a silent orchestra warm up. No barking. No cones. No hierarchy. Just pulsing drills in partial silence—players darting in waves, switching roles mid-sequence, their breath matching beat cues only they seem to hear.

Midfielder Rey Kiro dances through a cloud of mist. Defender Zane Rho twists into unnatural angles without stumbling. Striker Vexon Ray vanishes behind a training net, reappears on the opposite line like he walked through static.

📎 Training Notes:

Drills change tempo mid-set.

Light-response tests track emotional reaction lag.

Players are never told their positions. They discover them in motion.

“A plan,” says Kohlen, “is just an echo of a moment that hasn’t changed yet. I don’t want echoes. I want evolution.”

And the evolution is vivid. Even the kits glow differently depending on who wears them. Even the field lights shift not with score—but with possession. Kohlen didn’t build a team. He launched a waveform.

3. INTERVIEW: ZENDRIX HALO — THE PROGRAMMER’S EYE

Recorded in Tunnel Chamber B, beneath The Glowring. Interview by Lin Kael.

Zendrix arrives precisely—not early, not late. Silent except for the echo of boots on concrete, his violet-lit eyes scan the empty chamber as if it might be lying to him. He sits without a word, spine straight, legs folded like he’s already calculating airflow. Every breath is deliberate. Every pause is measured. This is not a player waiting to be interviewed. This is a system booting quietly.

LK: You’re the central node for Neon Vortex. Does that come with pressure? ZH: Pressure’s an input. You route it or you crash. I route it. LK: Tomorrow is opening night. Golden Army. Big venue. Big stakes. ZH: They’ll press high. They trust momentum. Momentum is readable. LK: You’ve already mapped them? ZH: I’ve simulated forty-two scenarios. Thirty-two end in midfield seizure by minute sixteen. LK: You make it sound clinical. ZH: Emotion fogs latency. Precision cuts cleaner. LK: Do you enjoy playing? ZH: I enjoy the silence between decisions. The stillness that happens just before you make a move you think is yours. LK: So you don’t react? ZH: I don’t react. I pre-write. You move in real time. I’ve already left that. LK: That sounds isolating. ZH: It’s not. My teammates are the waveform. I’m just the stabilizer. LK: How do you read them? ZH: Vexon is velocity out of sync—he breaks rhythm, on purpose. Axion follows breath over movement. Rixen only moves when intent solidifies. LK: And your style? ZH: I wait for the moment your confidence leans forward. That’s when I cut the line. LK: You don’t celebrate goals. Why? ZH: Because it’s not the end. It’s just proof the code worked. LK: People call you the coder-mage. Do you like that? ZH: Doesn’t matter. Mages draw power from feeling. I draw it from inevitability. LK: One word to describe your play? ZH: Inescapable.

4. THE GLOWRING – WHERE THE FIELD BREATHES

It doesn’t hum. It listens.

The Flux Spiral, known to all fans simply as The Glowring, isn’t the loudest venue in the Dominion League. But it’s the one you feel in your spine.

There are no banners, no chants. Instead, there’s resonance—a low, modulated pulse that shifts with every ball touch. Each seat is rigged with responsive vibro-light threads, reacting to field control. When Zendrix holds midfield? Violet drift. When Vexon charges? Sudden pink flares across the lower bowl.

The lighting doesn’t blind. It adapts. Shadows pulse in tempo. Mist coils and rises in patterns that echo formations. Before kickoff, the entire dome dims and pulses once—a signal: the signal begins.

Crowds don’t cheer randomly. They respond in sync. A thousand rhythms becoming one.

Insert — Side Voice: Riku Laan, substitute winger, age 19, on walking onto the pitch for the first time as a warmup player:

“The first time I stepped onto the Glowring… it felt like I’d walked into someone else’s heartbeat. The lights tracked my pace. The mist rolled at ankle-height. It didn’t feel like I was about to play. It felt like I was about to merge.”

5. INTERVIEW II — VEXON RAY: LIGHT AT SPRINT SPEED

Recorded pitchside, Glowring East Track. Interview by Lin Kael.

He doesn't sit. He jogs in place during the interview, lacing and unlacing his boots between answers. Shirt off. Neon wrist tape. He talks like he runs—blurts, spins, catches himself, and restarts mid-thought like the last sentence was too slow.

LK: Vexon. One word to describe how you play. VEXON: Splash. LK: Splash? VEXON: Yeah. You don’t see a splash forming. You just get hit by it. That’s how I move. One second you're reading the play—the next, you’re soaked in the afterimage. LK: What’s happening in your head during a breakaway? VEXON: It’s gone. It’s not thought. It’s pull. Like gravity flips and now I’m not sprinting, I’m falling forward through a gap that barely exists. I can’t explain the moment between touch one and touch two. It’s blur. Beautiful blur. LK: Do you think defenders can adapt to you? VEXON: They try. That’s their first mistake. If you’re trying to follow, you’re already late. I’m not a route. I’m a system flickering out of sync. LK: People call you the pulse of Neon Vortex. Do you agree? VEXON: I’m the spike. The sudden peak. Zendrix reads tempo. Axion holds it. Rixen deadens it. I break it. LK: How do you prepare for matches? VEXON: Noise. Heat. Two cans of Crosstide Redline—the coldest I can find. Then I sit in the mist tunnel and imagine the crowd as static. I move best when everything else stutters. LK: Last one. Why play this way? VEXON: Because I don’t want to be remembered for scoring. I want people to say: “I didn’t even see him go.”

6. THE CURRENT – NEON VORTEX LINEUP GRID

Calibrated to rhythm. Synced to the Pulse.

They aren’t a formation. They’re a waveform. A grid in constant shift. Every player runs his own pulse signal—but together, they resonate. Some strike like static bursts. Others stall time, letting plays unfold like stretched frequency. No captain, no locked roles. Just alignment.

This is the Current—the active rhythm cycle of Neon Vortex.

⚡ FORWARDS

#11 – VEXON RAY (Striker) – Distortion stride. Scores before defenders register movement. #19 – LEX VALE (Left Winger) – Blurs through ghost lanes. Heat-trail steps. Never repeats. #22 – KAEL NOVA (False Nine) – Cuts through space like memory. Shoots eyes-closed on rhythm.

🔮 MIDFIELDERS

#7 – ZENDRIX HALO (Central Control) – Ultraviolet eyes. Encrypted passes. Sees outcomes before play. #14 – REY KIRO (Attacking Mid) – LED gloves. Spins midfield like vinyl. Drops tempo shifts. #6 – TARIQ VENN (Defensive Mid) – Shadows space, not players. Moves inside silence. #17 – JETT HARMON (Right Mid) – Flank threader. Passes slice formations without sound.

🛡️ DEFENDERS

#4 – AXION DRIFT (Center Back) – Anchor timing. Tackles hit beat-perfect, never early. #3 – ZANE RHO (Left Back) – Legs twitch pre-move. Presence destabilizes attackers. #2 – REMY ZHOU (Right Back) – Shuts down intent. Reads before contact. Silent lock.

🧤 KEEPERS

#1 – RIXEN KODE (Keeper) – Still as code. Moves only when fate is forced.

🔄 BENCH

Blaise "Refract" Quen – Backup Keeper Milo “Edgeware” Haan – Pressure buffer Sorin “Bytecrash” Verne – Tempo breaker Jorren “Pulsefeed” Alix – Mid-sync restarter Tav “Sonarlink” Drel – Lane dualizer

7. INTERVIEW III – RIXEN KODE: Firewall in Gloves

In the shadows of neon thunder and attack surges, one figure waits, unmoved. Rixen Kode does not shout. He does not celebrate. He watches.

The Glowring’s pre-match lightshow still fades when Rixen enters the field. The goalkeeper’s entrance is silent, slow, and deliberate—opposing fans lower their cheers by instinct. His visor reflects nothing but field lines. When he stops at the edge of the box, he pauses, left heel lifted by exactly one centimeter, and breathes in. Nothing more.

INTERVIEW EXCERPT:

LK: You don’t seem to move much in the warmups. RK: “I’m already playing. The game starts when I enter the air.” “Stillness is a weapon. The game flinches before I do.” LK: How do you track the action so precisely? RK: “I don’t track it. I feel the field tense. Every player has a pulse. The moment it breaks rhythm, I know where the strike’s coming from.” Q: And the visor? Some say it’s augmented. RK: “No need. My body is tuned. Visor keeps me quiet.” Q: You barely speak to your defenders. How do you coordinate? RK: “They breathe with me. When I exhale, they close. When I blink, they break.”

Rixen doesn’t smile when the interview ends. He simply nods and turns away. The moment he disappears into the corridor tunnel, the hallway temperature drops.

8. SUPPORT CORE – SYNCING THE SYSTEM

Pulse from the Ground.

Behind every rhythm, someone sets the tempo.

In Neon Vortex, the visible brilliance is wired to unseen precision. The team’s cohesion—light-speed as it may appear—is calibrated behind the sidelines by the Support Core: Coach Syv Kohlen, the kinetic-mythic mascot Glythorn, and the all-male sideline unit known only as the Flux Crew.

They don’t cheer. They don’t shout. They sync.

🎙️ MINI INTERVIEW: KIO VANT – Waterboy in the Flux Crew

“You can’t just run out and squirt water in someone’s mouth here. You have to know the beat. You time it. You move like you're part of the pass. When Vexon calls for fluid, he’s mid-burst—your step has to match his third stride. Any slower, he misses. Any faster, he trips the rhythm. I train for that.”

“We don’t talk during matches. Coach doesn’t want clutter. But we signal. Zendrix gave us a pattern language. One blink, one knuckle touch, one heel-tap. That’s enough.”

“People think we’re just support. That’s fine. But ask Vortex what happens when we’re missing sync. You’ll see it in their eyes. They feel the current falter.”

Kio’s eyes flash with pale certainty as he leans forward, a silent beat pulsing through his fingers. Behind him, the rest of the Flux Crew begin warmup pacing—measured, graceful, and perfectly out of sync until the moment they collapse into form.

Support Core Breakdown

Coach Syv Kohlen – The Harmonic Disruptor Delivers instruction through silence, vibration, and predictive rhythm.

Mascot: Glythorn – The Signal Warden Avian-abstract polygonal specter. Prism-wings sync with crowd rhythm. Glitches into display at tempo breaks, performs ritual “Signal Spread” on goal surges.

Flux Crew – Field Sync Division 5–7 sideline operatives. Assigned to match player rhythms and recalibrate between pulses. Never speak on field. Kio leads the Left Channel. The others follow cue.

9. CLOSING SPREAD – “LIGHTBREAK APPROACHES”

“We don’t enter the match. We upload.” – Zendrix Halo “They’ll blink. That’s all I need.” – Vexon Ray “If you’re chasing us, you’re already off-beat.” – Kio Vant

⚔️ The Dominion League Begins Neon Vortex vs. The Golden Army Match 1 – Flux Spiral / The Glowring “Lightbreak: The First Pulse”

One team shines like heritage. The other flickers like warning. Let the signal burst. ____ Want to face such formidable opponents with the Golden Army ? Join us by contacting @polo-drone-125 @goldenherc9 @polo-drone-001 or @brodygold.

[goldenarmyofficial]

Ligthbreak : The First Pulse

💥 Golden Team vs Neon Vortex 💥 Dominion League Match 1 – Soccer Season Opener

The Dominion League is here. A new soccer season ignites—and it starts with a clash no one has seen before.

⚡ Golden Team steps into the glow of the Flux Spiral, home of Neon Vortex —a team of pulse, chaos, and speed. This is the first-ever match between them. A debut, a statement, a signal.

This isn’t a final. This isn’t a knockout. But it is the moment where the league starts to breathe. The First Pulse. Because everything begins here.

📍 Match Type: Soccer 📍 Location: Flux Spiral Stadium aka The Glowring 🕒 Prep ends: July 5th – 07:00 GMT

✨ Golden Fans—your energy matters. Follow us, reblog the buildup, hype your faves, and spread the gold. We shine brightest when we shine together.

— 👟 Want in on the gold? Tryouts are open. DMs welcome. Contact our recruiters @polo-drone-125, @polo-drone-001, @goldenherc9 and @brodygold.

[goldenarmyofficial]

Meet our recruiters

@brodygold (Brody/DC-011)

Brody is our other team captain. Brody is a level-headed, strategist who makes sure the team is ready for their matches and playing at their best. While DC-011, Brody's Drone Cap side, doesn't come out much he is always ready to appear when he is needed for PDU duties.

@polo-drone-001 (PDU-001/Percival/Ezan)

001, has many sides from Ezan's sexy Arab muscles to Percival's orderly officer structure. He is a very hard worker and does a lot to make sure the team is running smoothly.

@polo-drone-125 (PDU-125/Trevor)

125 is our newest recruiter. As Trevor, he is the head waterboy who helps make sure the team bros are well supported and hydrated during the games. If you're ever thirsty, Trevor is your guy.

Contact any of these three, or multiple of them, to join the Golden Army today.

[goldenarmyofficial]

Forged in Fire: Gold vs Orange

Part I — Sparks Before the Blaze

🌙 Prologue — Campfire Echoes

The fire was dying, but the glow clung to the Gold like a second skin. The spring training camp had stretched them—body, mind, and something deeper. Even now, with sweat drying on their skin and muscles humming from drills, they didn’t scatter.

They sat together beneath the low sky—Xavier (@polo-drone-039) and Isaac (@isaac-gold-45) tossing a volleyball between them in silence, Franco (@franco-gold94) sprawled against a training post, eyes half-lidded but alert. Brock (@brockgold) leaned into the flame, rolling his shoulders like a beast coiled beneath skin, while Tamerlan (@polo-drone-073) stood still, unreadable in his drone-calculated posture.

Brody (@brodygold) hadn’t spoken for a while. He sat with one leg tucked under, elbow on his knee, eyes tracing the edges of the dark.

Maximus (@polo-drone-070) came from the shadows last, wiping his arms with a towel, moving with the stiffness of overuse. He didn’t speak either. Didn’t need to.

The silence cracked only when a voice called from the path near the gym.

“Still playing philosopher, Brody?”

It was RaShawn—orange bandana tied across his forehead, grin bright even in low light. He didn’t enter the circle. Just stood with one hand hooked into his bag strap, watching.

Brody looked up slowly, and something unspoken passed between them. Not rivalry. Not yet.

“Still got that sideways toss?” Brody asked, voice low.

RaShawn laughed. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

Then he was gone, and the night crept back in.

🔥 Act I — First Sparks

The gym was alive before the whistle. Not loud—but charged. The Ocelots stretched in sequence, bright orange kits slicing across the blue floor. On their bench, Owen flipped through his clipboard while Jamil painted an orange stripe under each eye, screaming hype lines before the match even began.

Gold walked in quieter. Tighter. Controlled.

Brock’s chest gleamed with the sheen of perfect prep, every line of him humming like a war drum. Isaac stood beside Xavier, both calm—though Isaac’s eyes darted like radar, tracking patterns. Maximus kept to the back, adjusting his sleeves. Franco and Tamerlan bumped a ball between them without speaking.

Brody clapped twice—sharp, focused. “Set one: let’s make them remember who we are.”

And they did. For a while.

Gold opened like lightning—but it was Brock who lit the fuse. He stormed forward on the very first play, chest up, eyes gleaming with predatory focus. The spike cracked across the court like thunder, slamming so hard into the floor that even the Ocelot bench fell silent. RaShawn’s eyes narrowed. Jamil swore. Brock didn’t smile—he just turned, flexed once, and called, “Next!”

The next rally, same result. A short dig from Maximus found Brody, who tossed wide. Brock didn’t wait—he took flight before the ball even peaked. A roar followed the slam—not from the crowd, but from Brock himself. “Let’s go!” he barked, and for a moment it felt like he alone carried the whole net forward.

From the Orange side, Owen whispered without looking up from his clipboard, “Who the hell is that guy?”

Xavier’s follow-up was cleaner, more surgical, threading through two defenders before they reacted. Franco ducked a return and sent it flicking up to Isaac, who mirrored Xavier’s motion and landed his first real hit.

Across the net, the Ocelots scrambled. Darnell launched skyward with pure instinct, but even his height couldn’t stop the first Gold wave. Malik shouted encouragement, but Hiro said nothing—just adjusted his stance, analyzing.

Felix dove for save after save—libero chaos in motion—but even his rolls couldn’t stem the initial storm.

RaShawn was smiling. Not smug—just... ready.

“Nice warm-up, Brody,” he called after one clean point. “Now let’s play for real.”

The set ended 25–20. Gold ahead. But not untouched.

🟠 Act II — The Shift Begins

RaShawn adjusted mid-set—not just tactics, but tempo. His sets came looser, more chaotic, defying symmetry. He used the silence between Xavier’s rotations, the space between Maximus’ movements. He read Brody not as an opponent—but as an echo of something familiar. He began to anticipate.

Felix became a blur. Rotating in for Caleb, sliding under spike after spike, grinning between gasps. “C’mon, Gold! Give us something harder!” he shouted, laughing as he saved another impossible shot.

On the sideline, Owen began a rhythm chant, and Jamil pounded the bench like a drum. The Ocelots’ energy started to ripple—unstoppable, infectious.

But Xavier was already recalculating. He scanned Hiro’s stance, noted the angle of RaShawn’s last set, and muttered, “They’re favoring cross-court compression—short trajectory, tighter block gaps.” Isaac nodded, eyes wide, already repositioning.

Two points later, Xavier intercepted a spike not with reflex, but with certainty. He wasn’t just reacting—he was predicting. On the next rotation, he called the line before the serve even crossed the net: “Left shift. Hiro’s coming low.” The block was perfect. The Ocelots hesitated.

Brody glanced back, briefly—respect, not command.

Xavier didn’t celebrate. He just repositioned. Focused. Hunting.

Franco and Tamerlan pulled off a hybrid synchronized dive save—Golden harmony in motion. Franco dove flat, the ball kissing his wrist and arcing just high enough for Tam to volley it back with precision. It was beautiful. But brief.

The Ocelots roared back—Darnell took three points in quick succession, back-spiking like a force of nature, twisting midair in a motion that left even Brock blinking. The Orange bench matched every point with riotous sound. Jamil’s voice cracked. Owen was already scribbling new signals.

Maximus made two saves—but the third slipped under him. His dive was clean, but the angle was just too sharp. The ball touched floor, and he winced—not from pain, but from the margin of error. Too close. Too slow.

On the bench, Trevor (@polo-drone-125) shouted encouragement. Devon (@devon-gold-67) stood and mimicked a stretch he’d taught them. It helped. For a moment.

But the Orange was already ignited.

RaShawn sent a final feint set—Brody bit. Darnell slammed through untouched.

25–21. Ocelots take the second.

Across the gym, RaShawn didn’t cheer. He just looked across the net, eyes locked on Brody.

“This one’s real, bro,” he said. “You feel it?”

Brody nodded, slowly. “Yeah.”

Part II — Between Ash and Flame

⚠️ Act III — The Cracks

The third set began with less roar and more rhythm. Not the kind that uplifted, but the kind that gnawed—predictable, tight, just a little too mechanical. The Golden Army moved like a machine. A glorious, practiced machine—but one now humming just slightly out of tune.

Maximus felt it first. A lag in response, a pulse behind the ball. His dive at the first rally connected, but not cleanly. The ball popped up crooked. Brock adjusted fast, smashing it through anyway, but something stuck in the air—like timing gone soft.

RaShawn noticed. He didn’t change pace. He just leaned into the moment. While Gold pressed harder, sharper, he shifted his tempo—slightly erratic, slightly playful. He let chaos breathe into his sets. Darnell started leaping sooner, Hiro took sharper lines. It wasn’t about being better—it was about being freer.

Brody’s eyes followed it all, but his instructions started to lag behind the flow. He clung to wide set formations and defensive spacing—strategies that had dominated their last matches. But now, RaShawn bent the tempo each time, and Brody’s playbook chased echoes. He called for adjustments—quieter sets, wider range—but his voice now had to rise to be heard over the Ocelot bench. Owen was screaming plays like a man possessed, Jamil clapping a chant that made the hardwood echo. Felix dove after balls with gleeful violence, shouting across the court, “Gimme another one! I’m just warming up!”

On Gold’s side, things still worked—but not in harmony. Xavier was perfect, yes, his spikes cut air like blades. But even he began glancing toward Hiro more often, seeing a reflection of something cold and controlled on the other side of the net. Hiro never spoke, but his eyes tracked Xavier’s every move. Their exchange wasn’t words—it was physics, read and rewritten in milliseconds.

Isaac, however, changed.

He stopped waiting.

Midway through the set, Brody hesitated on a play. Xavier stepped right. But Isaac moved left—unplanned, unprompted—and blocked a sharp corner strike meant for the back line. It landed with a satisfying thud. For a second, no one moved.

Xavier gave him a look. Not surprised. Not critical. Just… acknowledging.

“Nice,” he muttered. It was enough. Isaac smiled, eyes wide, shoulders relaxing into something new.

Elsewhere, Franco and Tamerlan maintained their inner sync. Their rotations were flawless, mirrored to the millisecond. Tam’s read of the court was pure drone logic—positioning, anticipation. Franco’s was flow—instinctual, intuitive. But as the noise rose, even that duo began to fray. Tamerlan adjusted mid-play to block Hiro, and Franco, a beat too late, bumped into him. The ball hit the floor between them. No blame passed. Just breath.

Brock remained a constant. He tore through plays with unmatched speed, a wall of intent and force. But as the set wore on, the strategy leaned harder on him—again and again. His name was called almost every other rally. Not from weakness, but from habit. And even a well-oiled machine can overheat when left running at maximum. He crushed another spike off a back toss, then immediately rotated again to front, hands up before anyone else.

On the bench, Trevor was nearly hoarse, screaming praise and commands. Devon had his arms crossed, eyes locked on Maximus, calculating. But the Gold bench, though supportive, didn’t carry the same weight. Not like the Orange side. Not like that living storm of shouts and belief.

And then—RaShawn made his move.

The rally was long. Twenty-one all. The ball passed seven times. Tension filled the gaps. Brody shifted the formation, saw an opening, and anticipated Hiro. His hand signaled—Xavier twitched forward.

But RaShawn wasn’t going to Hiro.

He twisted, barely tipping the ball with two fingers behind his back, a feint set that flew to Tommy. No one had expected it. Not even Tommy. But he reacted just in time, jumped, and tapped it down just past Isaac’s fingers.

Brody’s jaw tightened. His hands flexed at his sides. He knew the pattern. He should’ve seen it. But he hadn’t. Not this time.

Maximus stepped—and hesitated. That half-second. Not indecision. Just delay. The kind that comes from lungs that sting and thighs that drag a little more than before. He stretched—but the ball was already down.

25–23. Set to Orange. Cheers thundered.

Maximus stared at the floor, then turned and walked back without a word.

RaShawn didn’t shout. He just looked across the net, calm, chest rising. He nodded once.

Brody met his gaze. And nodded back.

🔥 Act IV — The Awakening

The fourth set began in silence.

No rally cries. No tactical speeches. Just breath. Then Isaac spoke—quiet, steady, like he had been waiting for the exact right moment.

“We’re not out. Unless we act like it.”

It broke the spell.

They moved into formation like they’d never left it. First serve. Brock didn’t go full force—just enough. A smart, targeted strike that opened a gap in the Ocelot coverage. Franco followed with a tight spike, then Tamerlan dropped a perfect wall-block on Malik’s return. It wasn’t explosive. It was surgical.

Maximus, regathered, positioned himself earlier. Two dives—flawless. One third-dive recovery that sent the ball skimming along the floor toward Franco, who caught it mid-slide and passed to Xavier. Spike. Point. Crowd noise shifted.

On the bench, Trevor jumped in time with the rally. Devon exhaled for the first time all set.

Brody widened his plays. Less predictability. He trusted the others now—fully. His tosses came late, fast, sharp. Xavier took two, Isaac took one. Franco even passed one backward for Tamerlan to finish, a wild play that had even RaShawn laughing.

It wasn’t about domination now. It was about rising.

Gold took the set 25–22.

And in that moment, it felt like they had taken more than just a set. They had taken back themselves.

Part III — Final Pulse, Golden Flame

⚔️ Act V — The Final Pulse

The gym stilled—but it was not silence. The fifth set began in a tension that pulsed like static in the walls. Every movement had weight, every breath seemed shared. RaShawn stood loose, shoulders relaxed, but his eyes burned with something old and fierce. Brody watched him through the net, one hand flexing at his side. There was no huddle. Just the quiet affirmation passed through glances and nods—this was the final trial.

Gold started fast. Not desperate—focused. Brock surged forward like he’d never stopped. He didn’t wait for the rhythm—he made it. Xavier landed a clean spike from Brody’s first wide-angle toss. Then Brock stormed through the front line, slamming a ball that bounced off Felix’s outstretched hands. 4–3. But the Ocelots didn’t flinch. Darnell soared to meet the next rally midair, twisting mid-spin to land a shot off Isaac’s shoulder. 4–4.

They exchanged points in rapid sequence. 7–7. 9–9. Each rally felt like a microcosm of the entire match—fire and form, instinct and strategy. Xavier didn’t miss a beat. His reads came before the serve, his position always half a step ahead. “Left again,” he murmured, and Isaac shifted just in time. Every time Hiro shifted, Xavier was already there. He wasn’t just playing—he was correcting the future.

Maximus dove again and again, reading better now, adjusting to the pace. His muscles ached, but his pride held firmer than before. He wasn’t playing to recover. He was playing to remember what it meant to guard his line. One save earned a shout from Brock. Another, a nod from Tamerlan. But the third, his knee buckled just slightly on the push-up. He rose slower. His breath stayed heavy.

Across the court, Felix danced like a flame, impossible to track. Caleb rotated out, and RaShawn leaned into unpredictability. His sets came sharper now, almost too sharp—until Hiro, quiet and watchful, made them poetry. Every time Xavier scored, Hiro answered. It wasn’t rivalry anymore—it was communion.

Brody felt his lungs burning. Not from exertion. From pressure. His mind raced with angles, options, and still—RaShawn stayed one breath ahead. It was infuriating. It was familiar.

He remembered them playing in cracked school gyms. Just kids. Just passion. RaShawn had always gone left when no one thought he would. Had always trusted the team over the plan.

Score tied: 14–14.

Xavier served, low and fast. The Ocelots caught it. Returned it. Brock received. He dived, twisted mid-air, then passed with pinpoint control—more than strength. Precision honed by discipline. The entire team turned with him. Brody set—a feint right. Xavier leapt.

But RaShawn had moved before the ball left Brody’s fingers.

He didn’t even look.

His backset curved in a perfect arc behind him, not to Darnell—but to Hiro, racing in from the back. The spike came clean. Sharp. Not overpowering. Just placed so perfectly it might as well have been fate.

Maximus launched. It wasn’t instinct—it was duty. His body screamed but obeyed. He reached—shoulders extended, chest scraping floor.

Fingertips grazed air. The ball touched down like a whisper.

16–14. Match.

It took a second for the room to catch up. Then the roar hit. Ocelots surged across the court. Darnell lifted Hiro in a wild hug. Felix leapt onto Owen’s back. Jamil cried and laughed and screamed into his towel.

🧡 Epilogue — The Fire That Remains

Maximus stayed on the floor just a moment longer. Not from shame—just to breathe it in. The weight of impact. The echo of the cheer. The bitter beauty of a loss that still burned like victory. When he stood, Brock was already there, one strong hand out. Not yanking. Just there—steady, grounding. Maximus took it, and something clicked back into place.

RaShawn crossed the net. He didn’t speak at first—just wrapped Brody in a fast, shoulder-clap hug.

“You still got it, bro,” he murmured, grinning. “Next time… I want the unexpected.”

Brody smiled, the fatigue falling from him like ash. “I owe you that much.”

In the locker room, Gold sat in a hush that wasn’t defeat. It was stillness. Processing. Not one of them had given less than everything. Isaac stared at the ceiling, quiet and unshaken. Tam adjusted his towel with robotic precision. Franco, ever calm, tapped out a slow rhythm on his thigh.

Xavier said nothing. But he looked at Hiro’s name on the match sheet for a long time.

Maximus was the first to speak.

“Never again,” he said softly. Not angry. Just certain.

Brody passed the match ball to Xavier. “This was the forge. Now we rise.”

Franco added, voice low, “Next time, we burn cleaner.”

Outside, RaShawn’s voice echoed in celebration. It didn’t sting. It reminded.

Because Gold hadn’t been broken. They had been tempered.

And the next time fire called, they would answer brighter than ever before.

_____________

To Join the Gold, contact our recruiters : @brodygold @goldenherc9 @polo-drone-001 @polo-drone-125

[goldenarmyofficial]

Upcoming Training Match : Volleyball vs Orange Ocelots

Spring training took the Golden Army far from home, but not from fire. In the last week of their prep camp, they met the Orange Ocelots—a bright, loud, passionate squad from OSU with nothing to prove except how hard they loved the game. What started as drills turned into bonding, and what began as banter became a challenge.

This was no official match. No tournament bracket. Just a court, six golden souls, and six orange hearts beating against them.

Some called it friendly.

For those who played—it became something else entirely.

🔰 Match Roster — Gold vs Orange

🟡 Golden Army

Brody #11— Setter, Team Captain

Xavier #39— Opposite Hitter, strategist

Brock #46— Outside Hitter, powerhouse

Isaac #45— Middle Blocker, rising talent

Franco #94— Wing, instinctive rhythm

Tamerlan #73— Wing, Polo Drone efficiency

Maximus #70— Libero, last line of defense

🟠 Orange Ocelots (OSU)

RaShawn #1— Setter, Captain, Brody’s rival

Hiro #10— Opposite Hitter, silent and precise

Darnell #13 — Outside Hitter, explosive energy

Tommy #5— Middle Blocker, surprising clutch player

Felix #6 — Libero, chaotic defense

Caleb #2/ Jamil #4 — Wing rotation

Owen — Analyst, sideline command

[goldenarmyofficial]

Golden Beach Volleyball Finals

In the break between the second match and the finals, the two remaining teams took some time to intimidate one another. Xavier and Izzy were confident when they gloated about how they were going to beat the captains. Herc and Brody were quick to rebut that, saying how Xavier and Izzy struggled in their last match so this was going to be a piece of cake.

Both teams took a little bit of time to get some training in while Grayden had a lunch break taking some time during it to speak to Roman, a notable prankster on the team. Afterwards though the game was on. Who would win? The captains, Brody & Herc, or the challengers, Xavier & Izzy.

The Final Match Starts; Set 1

The final match started with a strong serve from Brody. Xavier and Izzy were ready for the return though, they were synchronized perfectly as they returned the ball to a spot that Herc couldn’t reach. The whistle blew, “Point Xavier & Izzy”. The challengers were off to a good start. That momentum was matched by the captains as point scoring went back and forth.

Score: 3-3 Tied

Herc and Brody were ready to take the lead though. They weren’t going to let their opponents even get close to taking the lead if they could do anything about it. Working in harmony they quickly delivered strong spikes, brutal returns, and hard to recover serves.

“Point Brody & Herc”

“Point Herc”

“Point Brody”

(Brody off to a strong start)

A three point lead now was in the captain’s favor and they looked ready to expand it even further. Xavier noticed Izzy was looking a little down. “Don’t give up bro, we’ve come back from worse. We’ve got this.”

(Xavier motivating Izzy)

That pep talk did something as the two challengers started to resume scoring.

“Point Izzy”

“Point Izzy & Xavier”

“Point Xavier”

And just like that the game was tied again. 

Score: 6-6 Tied

The bros on the sidelines watched as even if the captains got a strong lead, Xavier & Izzy would climb back. Neither team was giving up. Herc and Brody were quick to score another three points, Brody made sure a return was unreachable. Then Herc delivered a killer serve past Izzy. It seemed like Izzy and Xavier weren’t going to crack them. However, they were able to score one more point to bridge the gap a little. 

Score: 9-7 Captains Lead

Xavier delivered a strong serve, but Herc was ready for the return. Lobbing the ball perfectly, it was an easy point for the captains. Xavier and Izzy came back with a slight vengeance though scoring two straight points to keep the game close. 

Score: 10-9 Captains Lead

Points started to go back and forth again as neither side wanted to let up. 

“Point Herc & Brody”

“Point Xavier & Izzy”

“Point Brody”

“Point Xavier & Izzy”

“Point Xavier & Izzy”

(Xavier)

Xavier and Izzy had done the unexpected, they tied the game back up. It was 12-12 and they were determined to score the next point and regain the lead. Brody & Herc had other plans though.

As Izzy served, Brody was ready. Setting the ball up for Herc to deliver a powerful spike. Xavier dove for the ball, but was mere centimeters away from reaching it. The whistle blew.

“Point Herc”

Brody lined up to serve and delivered a fast serve that Izzy couldn’t reach.

“Point Brody”

Score: 14-12 Captains Lead

The onlookers began whispering. Even though the match seemed close it seemed as though Xavier and Izzy didn’t have enough power to take any lead from the captains.

Xavier & Izzy scored one more point before Herc & Brody went on another scoring spree. Grayden’s whistle rang in their ears as point after point was called for Herc & Brody. A one point gap, now up to four.

Score: 18-14 Captains Lead

Xavier and Izzy’s drive and determination was unmatched even in the face of being down. Xavier lined up and returned Brody’s serve. Then Izzy was ready when Herc tried to return the return. This volley went quite long before Xavier and Izzy finally cracked the defense of the captains. The trend continued for the next two volleys as the challengers’ momentum had grown.

Score: 18-17 Captains Lead

The final part of the set seemed to move quickly though. It rushed by.

“Point Brody”

“Point Izzy”

“Point Xavier & Izzy”

A tie of 19-19, this set could have gone into a tiebreaker. However, one team dug in and finished strong.

“Point Herc”

“Set Point, Captains. Brody to serve.” Grayden stated and like a blur the ball rushed past Izzy landing in the sand. The whistle blew as Izzy came out of his daze. The set was over.

Set 1; Brody & Herc 21-19

Xavier and Izzy were happy with their efforts in set one, but were pumped up and ready to do better in set two. Herc and Brody were giving each other signals that came off as “Let’s finish this quickly” or “We’ve got this.”

Set 2 A Long-winded Redemption or A Crushing Defeat?

As the teams came back to the court after a quick water break, set two began. Set two began somewhat similarly to set one, with neither team making much headway early on. Herc would score a point, then Izzy would. Each team wouldn’t let the other get too far ahead.

Score: 3-3 Tied

Herc had a strong return, granting the captains a slight lead. Then Xavier and Izzy tied it up again. This really was either team’s game to win.

“Point Izzy”

Izzy was determined to give his team the lead as he served the ball. Brody was quick to return it, hitting it at an angle. Brody quickly realized his mistake though as Izzy rushed in to spike the ball to a blind spot.

“Point Izzy, Xavier & Izzy lead 6-4.”

Herc wasn’t happy to have lost the lead. He swiftly returned the next serve for a point. Then Xavier and Brody scored points back-to-back. The captains were catching up. Brody let off a strong serve to Xavier who returned it. A strong team maneuver by Herc and Brody kept Xavier and Izzy on their toes. The captains kept the volley going before scoring the point to tie the game.

Score: 7-7 Tied

Izzy was not ready to let up though. He didn’t want this to turn into a repeat of the last set. He wanted him and Xavier to hold onto a lead. And they started dominating in points.

“Point Xavier & Izzy”

“Point Xavier & Izzy”

“Point Izzy”

“Another point Izzy”

“Point Herc”

“Point Xavier & Izzy”

“Point Izzy”

“Point Xavier & Izzy”

(Izzy excelling)

Everyone couldn’t keep their eyes off Izzy who helped his team score 7 out of the last 8 points. The captains looked embarrassed; you could tell they weren’t planning to be down by six.

Score: 14-8 Xavier & Izzy Lead

The challengers’ scoring streak wasn’t over though as Xavier delivered a strong serve bringing the lead up to 7. Brody wasn’t going to take it any longer as the next serve he returned fiercely determined to score a point. Eventually the captains did, but Izzy was quick on the next volley to reopen the 7-point gap.

Score: 16-9 Xavier & Izzy Lead

At this point the captains had had enough. It was time to get this game back under their control. Brody delivered a strong return spike to get the captains into the double digits. Then a strong serve on the next volley to start closing the gap. The volley after started to go long, each team strategically positioned for optimal returns. When Brody yelled over to Herc, “Herc spike this.” after lobbing the ball high towards his fellow captain.

With a strong forceful blow, Herc slammed the ball down out of Xavier’s range.

Score: 16-12 Xavier & Izzy Lead

But then points started to flood in.

“Point Izzy”

“Point Herc & Brody”

“Point Izzy”

“Point Xavier & Izzy”

“Point Herc”

“Another point Herc”

“Point Brody”

“Point Herc & Brody”

“Point Herc”

The captains had slowly, but surely closed the gap. Now only one point separated them from Xavier & Izzy. Another long volley started with a serve from Brody which was returned by Izzy. Neither team was letting up on this volley as Herc tried to slam the ball down, but Xavier dived and recovered it. It kept going back and forth. The bros on the sidelines couldn’t look away. Back and forth it felt like the ball was never going to fall. Until a final effort by the captains landed them a decisive hit in to score the point and bring the score to a tie.

Score: 19-19 Tied

Xavier and Izzy weren’t pleased. This felt like their set and now things were in danger of them losing it all. Xavier felt like Izzy was pulling more of the weight this set so he decided it was time for him to step in. Returning Herc’s serve he returned the ball just out of Brody’s range. It was now their breaking point to win the set. The captains weren’t going to just let them have this set though. The scoring started to go back-and-forth.

“Point Herc; Tiebreak”

“Point Xavier & Izzy, Set point”

“Point Herc; Tiebreak”

Score: 21-21 Tied

The next volley, Brody delivered a strong serve that Izzy almost missed, but after Izzy returned the ball. The captains were prepared and struck through to gain a lead. They were now only one point away from winning the match. Xavier wasn’t about to let that happen. As he returned the next serve determined to bring the set back to a tie. Xavier kept returning everything that Herc and Brody threw at him. Eventually finding an opening to score a point and bring it back to a tie.

Another set of scores for both teams made this set feel like it was going to go on forever. As it was now the captains’ serve with the score tired 23-23. Xavier and Izzy readied themselves for the volley and when they saw yet another opening they took it. Gaining the advantage and a chance to force a tiebreaking third set. It all came down to this next volley.

Score: 24-23 Xavier & Izzy Lead

Izzy served, Herc returned. The teams kept the ball going back and forth. Neither were ready to let up. Grayden looked at the timer for the volley as it ticked up, more and more time just continuing to elapse. Eventually a strong spike by Xavier was used. Brody dove…

(Brody dives)

And missed. As the ball hit the sand, Grayden’s whistle blew.

“Point Xavier. Set two goes to Xavier and Izzy.”

Set 2; Xavier & Izzy 25-23

Xavier and Izzy were fired up now. Not only did they force the third set. They had a real chance to win this. They watched as Herc was getting angry. Herc wanted this match to end quickly, not anticipating the true challenge that Xavier and Izzy would bring to the captains.

Set 3 The Deciding Final Set

Grayden explained the rules of the third set. First team to at least 15 points with a two point lead wins. So for example 15-13 wins, 15-14 isn’t enough. Both teams understood as the challengers’ prepared their serve. No one expected what was to happen next as Xavier & Izzy went on a scoring streak. In the next ten volleys, only one was scored by the captains. The look of sheer shock on everyone as Xavier and Izzy held a 9-1 lead showed true bewilderment. No one expected the captains to be trashed this badly.

The next few points were closer to what was expected.

“Point Herc & Brody”

“Point Izzy”

“Point Brody”

“Point Xavier & Izzy”

“Point Brody”

“Point Izzy”

The back and forth was closer to what was expected, but those keeping score realized the challengers were quickly approaching the fifteen point mark.

Score: 12-4 Xavier & Izzy Lead

“Point Herc”

“Point Herc & Brody”

“Point Xavier & Izzy”

With a score of 13-6, Herc’s rage was starting to consume him. He didn’t like losing. Brody tried to calm him down, but Herc was too distracted as Izzy delivered a strong serve past him leaving the challengers only one point away from victory.

“Herc, snap out of it. We can’t get angry. We have to focus to tie this game back up.” Brody commanded. Something in his words struck a chord with Herc as the godly jock returned the next volley for a point keeping the game going.

Score: 14-7 Match Point Xavier & Izzy

The next few minutes were a brilliant spectacle of teamwork by Brody and Herc as they scored point after point starting to close the gap in the points.

“Point Herc & Brody”

“Point Brody”

“Point Herc”

“Point Brody”

“Point Herc & Brody”

“Another point Herc & Brody”

“Point Herc, the game is tied.”

(Herc tying up the game)

With seven straight points, the game was now tied at 14. The captains could really pull off a comeback or could they? Xavier smirked, him and Izzy had planned to give the captains a sense of false hope. Izzy returned the next serve strong giving the challengers the advantage.

Score: 15-14 Xavier & Izzy Match point

This was it, either keep the set going or end it here. As Izzy served the ball, Brody returned it. The ball went back and forth. Neither team wanted to give it up. This match had been a close one from the beginning. The teams were definitely evenly matched. As Xavier set the ball for Izzy, Izzy went to spike it. Herc dove for it and was able to recover it. The volley continued. Neither team let up as it just kept going…and going…and going.

Eventually an opening came through and a strong spike came through. Grayden's whistle blew…

Point to…

Xavier and Izzy. Game, Set, and Match go to Xavier & Izzy, our beach volleyball champions.

Xavier and Izzy celebrated with a big hug before going over to get congratulated by the team. The captains were happy for their teammates, but you could tell Herc really wanted to win.

The Trophy Ceremony Hijinks

(Xavier and Izzy hoisting up the trophy)

Grayden called the winners to the stage, Xavier and Izzy happily hoisted the trophy and got a round of applause from all of the other bros, including the captains. Once the cheering ended, Grayden called the captains to the stage for a surprise. Grayden took a step back, the captains were unsure what their bro had planned.

(Gold confetti explosion)

Roman, the biggest prankster of the team, came sprinting by. He was holding a remote and when he pressed the button confetti exploded onto Herc and Brody.

(Herc and Brody turned to golden statues)

In mere moments, the captains were turned into golden statues. Grayden knew Roman was up to something, but didn’t know about this.

Roman came up and took the mic, “As the winners of the tournament, you get to have your opponent as statues to play with for 24 hours until my transformation spray wears off. And don’t worry Herc, I know you’ll probably turn me into your gassy briefs for this. I’m ready for my punishment.”

Roman ran off as Isaac and Xavier gave the Herc and Brody statues a sultry look. They would be sure to use the statues well in the next 24 hours. Teaching the captains who the best players truly were.

Grayden congratulated all of the bros for playing and wished them luck in their upcoming actual volleyball match in a few weeks against some orange team. Apparently some kind of college team for a friendly Volleyball match.

Epilogue

(Herc statue)

Through the next 24 hours bros watched as the statue of Herc sat on the beach. Xavier and Izzy would occasionally massage him in oil. Herc’s hand was also petrified in the perfect position for them to have lewd fun. Xavier had a plan to use some hypnosis on the captain to make him nice and obedient also. Herc would soon realize who was really the top dog.

But it was all in good fun, the bros would be training a few days later for their exhibition match against the Orange State Ocelots and Herc, Xavier, Izzy, and Brody were all even more determined as they would be working together this time.

--------

Players/team members mentioned:

Herc @goldenherc9

Brody @brodygold

Xavier @polo-drone-039

Isaac/Izzy @isaac-gold-45

Grayden @polo-drone-084

Roman @roman-golden-68

[goldenarmyofficial]

Golden Beach Volleyball Tournament (Part 2)

Match 2: Mack & Leander vs Xavier & Izzy

Xavier and Izzy walked onto the court first. Xavier started to flex and Izzy was bragging about how they were going to win it all. Meanwhile, Mack was calm and collected as he and Leander took the field. Leander’s hair had grown longer for spring break. Grayden watched from the referee chair, not letting his feelings for Leander cloud his impartial judgement. 

(Izzy)

The teams took their spots as the match began. It started off strong with the teams going back and forth in scoring. Izzy was up first with a strong spike that was just out of Mack’s range. Then Mack returned the favor, scoring for him and Leander. Mack scored another one right after, but Xavier was fast to go on the defense and tie it back up. Izzy scored another point to get their team ahead, but then Leander’s strong serve return was too much, tying the game up again.

Score: 3-3 Tied

But then it was like Mack and Leander went into overdrive starting to score. 

“Point Mack”

“Another point Mack”

“Point Leander”

“Point Mack” 

(Mack)

After all of the previous showboating, Izzy and Xavier didn’t expect to ever be down by 4. Izzy made a strong return on the next volley to close the gap a little, but Mack was like an unstoppable machine getting another point right after. 

Score: 8-4 Mack & Leander Lead

Izzy and Xavier looked at each other, their bond was stronger than many on the team. Something was lit within them as they scored two straight points. Mack was equally fired up though, easily undoing his rival’s attempt at closing the gap.

Score: 10-6 Mack & Leander Lead

The trend of Xavier and Izzy not being able to close the gap continued. Their strong teamwork netted them two more points, but then Mack came back with two more. 

“It’s hopeless, how can we beat Mack? He must be the best volleyball player on the team.” Izzy whined. 

“Don’t give up. Have faith in our teamwork.” Xavier replied. 

The distracted pair missed a serve from Leander though as the gap between the teams grew to five. 

Score: 13-8 Mack & Leander Lead

Izzy and Xavier were not giving up. Strong teamwork pushed them to three straight points to close the gap. Two points was something they could overcome, or was it? 

Leander’s serve returns were unmatched, Xavier barely returned it. Before Leander dove in to spike the ball hard out of Izzy’s range. Mack scored on the next volley. Xavier and Izzy were back to familiar territory, down by 4. 

(Leander diving)

Score: 15-11 Mack & Leander Lead

Strong serves, teamwork, and coordination helped the current underdogs score two more points in a row. It was looking up, but PDU-070 (Mack) had utilized hours of precise training to not let this up now, scoring another point. Then a back and forth left the teams at 18-14. If Xavier and Izzy were going to make a comeback now had to be the time. 

“Point Xavier & Izzy”

“Point Xavier”

“Point Izzy”

“Another point Izzy”

(Izzy)

Just like that they had overcome the deficit. It was like they were in a rhythm. Izzy had locked in to delivering crushing returns and spikes and through the power of teamwork…

“Point Xavier & Izzy”

“Another point Xavier & Izzy”

“Another point Xavier & Izzy” 

And just like that they were at set point for the first set. The bros watching were dumbfounded that Mack and Leander blew such a nice and steady lead. Mack returned the ball, but Xavier’s strong arm delivered the blow to get him and Izzy the first set victory. 

Set 1 Xavier & Izzy; 21-18.

Set 2 A Hard Fought Battle

Set two started like a revisiting to set one’s middle. As Mack and Leander came out strong with three straight points. They had talked between sets and Mack’s ease with words calmed the disappointed Leander. The second set continued similar to the first set, Xavier and Izzy tried to comeback, but between Mack’s machine-like precision and Leander’s strong serves they watched as the score counted up to 6-3. Izzy was not going to let his master, Xavier, down though working hard to score two more points to get them closer to tying the game up. 

Score: 6-5 Mack & Leander lead

As the set continued to go back and forth with a team scoring two and then the other scoring two. Then back and forth again until it was 9-8. Mack and Leander were not ready for a return from Xavier as he tied the game back up. 

Score: 9-9 Tied

Then things seemed to just go by quickly. 

(Mack spike)

“Mack with the spike, point Mack.”

“A strong serve by Leander, point Leander.”

“Izzy returns it for a point”

“Point Mack…Mack…Mack”

“Great teamwork by Mack & Leander, point Mack & Leander.” 

“Xavier & Izzy return the favor, point Xavier & Izzy.”

“A great return by Leander, point Leander.” 

“Another strong play by Leander, point Leander.”

Score: 17-11 Mack & Leander Lead

Xavier and Izzy took a time out. Giving each other a pep talk, they weren’t just going to let Mack & Leander steamroll their way into the third set. Something had to have happened within them as they scored 7 straight points not only tying, but taking the lead. 

Score: 18-17 Xavier & Izzy Lead

Could they push through to the win? Not if Mack and Leander had anything to say about it. A series of back and forth scoring started to happen. 

18-18

19-18

19-19

(Xavier)

Xavier and Izzy scored another point giving them the potential match point. One more point and they wouldn’t need a third set. Mack & Leander weren’t going to let that happen though, scoring the next point and tying the game at 20 each, a tiebreaker was in effect now. 

This could be it, the chance for Xavier and Izzy to move on. They proceeded to miss a serve from Leander and it was now time for defense. After a long series of volleys, Xavier and Izzy tied it back up. 

Score: 21-21 Tied

But Mack and Leander were determined to keep the game going as they scored the next two points, winning the second set and forcing a set 3. 

Set 2 Mack & Leander; 23-21.

Set 3 The Finals Looming 

Set 3 was to be played to 15 points with a two point lead needed. Xavier and Izzy were determined to start this set off strong and they did. Scoring 9 of the first 10 points. It was like Mack and Leander weren’t the same dominating presence anymore. 

Score: 9-1 Xavier & Izzy Lead

While Leander looked defeated by the score, Mack had not given up. His strong returns started helping them lower the difference in the scores. He scored three straight, but it wasn’t enough to get anywhere near tying the game back up. After a strong spike from Izzy, to get his team up to 10, points traded off for a little bit. 

“Point Mack”

“Point Xavier”

“A strong return from Leander, point Leander.”

“Izzy spikes it for another point”

(Mack & Leander)

“A great showing of teamwork from Mack & Leander, point Mack & Leander.”

“Point Izzy”

“Point Mack”

“Another Point Mack”

Score: 13-9 Xavier & Izzy Lead

Xavier & Izzy were so close. Just two more points and they could win this. Xavier readied himself and shot a strong return back just out of Leander’s diving range. It was now 14-9 with them having the match point. 

Leander and Mack still had scores in them though each earning one more point each to close in on Xavier & Izzy. The bros on the sidelines thought a tie could happen, but just as you thought that a strong set by Izzy into a spike by Xavier. Grayden’s whistle blew…

(Ball in the sand ending the match)

“Point Xavier & Izzy. The match goes to them.” 

Izzy and Xavier shared a big hug before going over to thank Mack and Leander for a tough match. They knew though that the match against the captains would likely be even harder. 

Players/team members mentioned in this post:

Xavier @polo-drone-039

Isaac/Izzy @isaac-gold-45

Mack @polo-drone-070

Leander @leander-gold-88

Grayden @polo-drone-084

[goldenarmyofficial]

Golden Beach Volleyball Tournament (Part 1)

Tournament Preparation

Grayden had been enjoying Spring Break with the bros, but it was oddly quiet. No matches, no contests. It was just drinking, swimming, tanning, and hanging with the bros. But then when he saw some college kids playing beach volleyball the idea came to him. A tournament between the bros. A friendly rivalry match for them to face off and show their skills. 

(Volleyball poster)

Grayden found a few of the pups and had them help him get the word out. Golden Beach Volleyball Tournament Sunday, talk to Grayden to enter. Grayden didn't know what to expect for entries. If he could get even two teams it would be good. Teams of two bros would definitely show off teamwork between some bros.

Grayden was first approached by Isaac and Xavier. The two had a quite confident demeanor. 

“We’re going to win this, right Izzy?” Xavier commanded. 

“Yes, Sir.” Isaac responded, apparently in a new persona named Izzy. 

Xavier walked towards the beach with Izzy not far behind. 

The second group was the captains, Brody and Herc. They were confident and ready to win. Herc confidently said, “We’ve got this Brody, bro.” before giving his fellow captain a high five and going off to train. Grayden had a feeling those two would be tough to beat. 

Next was Daniel and Ross. Daniel (PDU-016), wearing his Polo Drone uniform, signed himself and Ross up. Grayden was confused as he hadn’t seen Ross around lately, but thought another team would make this interesting. After confirmation, PDU-016 headed to the beach with a beach ball in hand and some kind of black pup hood. Where did that come from? 

The final team to join was first just Mack (PDU-070). Mack told Grayden he wanted to join, but was waiting to hear back from Elijah about partnering up. However when Elijah didn’t respond, Mack saw an opportunity. Leander, who had been helping distribute posters for Grayden, wanted to join. Mack and Leander hadn’t interacted much previously, but the two thought with some practice they could win. 

(Ezan being eye candy)

That was it, four teams were set. Grayden watched the teams train from the referee bench, occasionally his eyes wandered to a buff, tan, Ezan rocking a golden speedo. However, he saw each team practicing serves, sets, and spikes. It was going to be a good tournament. Little did Grayden know though that Xavier and Izzy had formed a rivalry with Brody & Herc. Xavier and Isaac were gloating about how they were going to win, and the captains would retort. There was some back and forth all the way up to the tournament start time. 

Grayden also made it clear that no level 2 drone abilities would be allowed, each team had one level 2 drone. However it wouldn’t be fair to those not enhanced as level 2 to allow that. The teams all agreed. Grayden had the matches planned, he wanted to see Ross face Brody. The two had a close friendship and Grayden knew they would both give it their all. 

So the round 1 matches are: Xavier & Izzy vs Mack & Leander; Brody & Herc vs Daniel & Ross. 

Grayden with the help of a few bros set up some nets and readied the courts. Brody & Herc were giving each other a pep talk, while Daniel was coaching Ross who seemed a little nervous. Xavier and Izzy were sitting on the sidelines waiting for their match. 

“Don’t lose in round 1 caps. We want to kick your butts in the finals.” Xavier exclaimed. 

“Yeah what Sir said.” Izzy added. 

Mack and Leander were much quieter, Mack encouraging some meditation with Leander as the two tried to focus for their match afterwards. 

(Grayden ready to be the ref)

Grayden told all four teams the rules, best of 3 sets. The first two sets are played to 21 where you must win by a two or more point margin to win the set. If a third set is needed it is played to 15 with the same margin rule. No level 2 powers, no hypnosis, no cheap tricks. 

All the teams agreed and the tournament began. 

Match 1: The Captains vs Daniel & Ross

The first four volleys went back and forth with Brody scoring then Daniel, then Brody again. Then Ross. It was a fierce match-up, but it seemed like Herc was a little distracted by Xavier and Izzy’s words from the sidelines. 

“Herc, what are you doing bro? Get your head in the game.” Brody stated, readying up for a serve. 

Score: 2-2 Tied

After saying that the captains went on a scoring streak. Brody spiking the ball just out of Ross’s range; Herc giving off a strong serve; the two working together to set a ball up to garner a commanding lead. Nine straight points went to the captains, if you looked over you could see Daniel and Ross were looking a little defeated. 

(Brody)

Score: 11-2 Captains Lead

The primal spirit of Fenrir shifted something in Daniel though as he wasn’t ready to just give up. He started giving Ross commands as Ross lined up to return Brody’s serve. The volleys went a little longer, the next 4 being a back-and-forth. The captains scored 2 and Daniel & Ross scored 2 more. 

Score: 14-4 Captains Lead

As the set continued, Brody and Herc showed excellent teamwork slowly dominating Ross & Daniel. Ross & Daniel, despite their practice, seemed off-sync. Missing easy returns and failing spikes, the two were able to pull back a little. However, Herc and Brody’s strong teamwork would not let up. 

Grayden’s words echoing in their minds between whistle blows. 

“Point Herc, Point Brody…” 

(Herc)

Yes Ross was able to score two more points, but then the captains just kept scoring. 15, 16, 17, 18, 19. The captains were taking a commanding lead. A strong serve by Brody was returned by Ross and Herc just couldn’t get it. Getting the challengers up to 7 points. 

Score: 19-7 Captains Lead

One more point from Brody left the captains with the set point. Daniel tried to claw back in the next return bringing the score to 20-8, but Herc and Brody finished the set off strong, coming out 21-8. 

Set 1 Captains Brody & Herc; 21-8. 

Set 2 Is Redemption Possible?

Set 2 started no different from set 1 as the captains started with a strong lead getting 4 straight points. It seemed like they were unbeatable. Ross and Daniel regrouped and gave each other a pep talk. Daniel and Ross weren’t just going to give up. Daniel then proceeded to get two straight points bringing the game closer. 

(Daniel)

Score: 4-2 Captains Lead

Brody and Herc’s teamwork kept them ahead, but Daniel and Ross seemed to be more in the game now. 

“Point Brody & Herc”

“Point Daniel”

“Point Ross”

“Point Brody”

(Brody)

Score: 6-4 Captains Lead

At least they were keeping it close, Daniel and Ross thought. Until Brody and Herc went into overdrive getting another four straight points. A strong return by Ross got them one more point, but the two felt like this game wasn’t evenly matched. 

Score: 10-5 Captains Lead

A series of plays kept going. The team watched as Daniel and Ross seemed to finally be working in sync, but it may have been too late. 

“Point Caps”

“Point Caps”

“Point Daniel”

“Point Caps”

“Point Herc”

“Point Daniel & Ross”

“Point Daniel”

“Point Daniel”

Three straight points, Daniel and Ross felt like there might be a chance for them after all. Even after Brody spiked a ball back to give the captains a six point lead. Could Ross & Daniel overcome this?

Score: 15-9 Captains Lead

(Ross)

Ross delivered a strong spike that Herc missed as he was dazed. Then Daniel gave a strong return to get the two a little closer to closing the gap. The teams then went back and forth, point to the Caps, point to Daniel & Ross, point to the Caps, another point to the caps, point to Daniel & Ross, another point to Daniel & Ross. 

Score: 18-14 Caps Lead

A final push was what Daniel and Ross needed to try to tie this out, unfortunately it just didn’t come. Brody and Herc scored two straight points getting them to match point. An angry Fenrir was able to get one more point, but Brody and Herc outmaneuvered their opponents clinching a victory in the second set and the match. 

(Herc holding the ball after the Captain's victory)

Set 2 Captains Brody & Herc; 21-15

Captains Brody & Herc win and advance to the finals

The captains high fived and the crowd of bros cheered their victory on. Ross and Daniel got plenty of good job cheers as well. The captains moved to the sidelines to watch the second match and await their final opponent. 

Players/team members mentioned:

Herc @goldenherc9

Brody @brodygold

Daniel @danielgold-16

Ross @ross-gold-79

Isaac/Izzy @isaac-gold-45

Xavier @polo-drone-039

Mack @polo-drone-070

Leander @leander-gold-88

Grayden @polo-drone-084

Ezan @polo-drone-001

[goldenarmyofficial]

⚾ Midnight Challenge – Part 4: The Last Stand Begins

The fog curled tighter around the field as the 8th inning began, twisting like something alive, something refusing to let go. The Phantom Aces still stood tall, their uniforms black as the void, their eyes as empty as the mist that surrounded them. But for the first time, there was a glitch in their perfection.

Isaiah Crowe was gone.

He had been their ace, their impenetrable wall. But Herc’s return had cracked him. His pitches had lost their bite, his control had slipped, and in the end, the Aces had no choice but to pull him.

Now, on the mound, stood Samuel "Eclipse" Harlow (#18).

The air around him felt... wrong. Like something wasn’t fully attached. His form flickered like a mirage, like he wasn’t entirely here. Even the dirt beneath him seemed to bend strangely, like the weight of his presence warped reality itself.

And then, there was the other change.

Nate Voss was missing.

No one had seen him leave. No one had seen him step away. One moment, he had been there. The next? Gone. The dugout was silent about it. No one spoke his name.

In his place stood Dorian "Specter" Lowe (#29).

His uniform looked untouched, his stance too fresh. Like he hadn’t played a single inning. Like he had simply... appeared.

But Gold didn’t hesitate. Not anymore.

Top of 8th – The Grand Slam That Shakes Reality 

Score: 7-8, Phantom Aces Leading

Brock (@brockgold) cracked his knuckles as he stepped into the batter’s box.

He had spent the early innings locking down the Phantom Aces’ offense, but now? Now it was time to break their defense.

Samuel Harlow didn’t blink.

First pitch—fastball. Brock tracked it perfectly. CRACK! A sharp liner to left field. He was already sprinting before the ball even landed.

Safe at first.

The dugout erupted.

Roman (@roman-golden-68) followed. His stance was calm, unshaken. He had spent hours training for this, conditioning himself to not fear the Phantom Aces, to see through the illusions.

He swung without hesitation.

A clean single. Brock to second.

Then came Leander (@leander-gold-88).

Before, he had doubted himself. But now? He saw the cracks in the Phantom Aces’ perfection. He saw the way their movements weren’t seamless anymore.

First pitch—ball. Second pitch—contact.

Another base hit.

Bases loaded.

And then it was supposed to be Dylan’s at-bat (@dylangold20). But he didn’t move. 

Instead, he turned to Ares (@goldengod-ares10). He knew this was the moment to crush the Phantom Ace and the Gold Knights needed their best hitter for that.

Dylan’s golden eyes flickered, his movements smooth as he handed over his bat. He didn’t need to explain. Ares understood immediately.

Ares inhaled, feeling the weight of it.

For innings, he had fought through frustration, through doubt. Herc had been gone, and the fire in his chest had flickered because of it. But now? Now his twin was here. The weight was gone.

Now, Ares felt unstoppable.

The Aces shifted, they knew what was coming.

First pitch—Ares let it pass. Ball one.

Second pitch—he swung hard, a foul that sent the ball screaming into the upper deck.

Samuel Harlow adjusted. Tried to change the rhythm. Tried to make Ares second-guess himself. But it didn’t matter.

Third pitch—contact.

The crack of the bat echoed like thunder.

The ball vanished into the sky.

For a moment, time stood still.

And then—

🔥 GRAND SLAM. 🔥

Ares didn’t even watch it land. He just dropped the bat, grinning sharp as a blade.

The dugout erupted, the cheers deafening.

Gold Takes the Lead. 11-8.

Samuel Harlow stood on the mound, motionless. No anger. No frustration. Just an eerie flicker, as if his form was struggling to stay together.

Mack (@polo-drone-070) stepped in next.

He could still feel the energy of Ares' home run vibrating through the ground, but his focus stayed razor-sharp. First pitch—foul. Second pitch—CRACK.

Deep drive! Double.

Briar (@polo-drone-050) followed.

He had hesitated earlier. Let the shadows creep into his head. But now? Now he fought.

He swung hard, forcing the Phantom Aces into tight defensive play.

A grounder, but Mack advanced to third.

1 OUT.

Then Herc (@goldenherc9) stepped up.

Harlow stared at him, his flickering form still shifting unnaturally. Herc didn’t care.

First pitch—line drive. Mack sprinted home.

🔥 12-8. 🔥

Brandon (@brandongold58) followed.

And across from him, standing perfectly still, was Vincent Moreau.

They had been testing each other all game. Moreau had tried to call for the perfect pitches to shut Brandon down. To keep Gold from getting momentum.

But Brandon had studied him, too.

Harlow threw. Brandon tracked the ball instantly. He adjusted his swing, not going for a massive play, but just enough.

The ball shot toward short. Maddox moved before it even hit the dirt.

🔥 Ground out. 🔥

But Brandon had gained the upper hand.

He had read Moreau’s signals. Next time, he’d win the duel.

2 OUTS.

Brody (@brodygold) stepped in last, determined to push for one more run. But the Phantom Aces had recovered, snapping a perfect double play.

🏆 End of Top 8th: Gold Leads 12-8

The Phantom Aces didn’t react. No frustration, no anger. But something was wrong.

The mist twisted in unnatural shapes, the lights above flickered erratically.

🔥 Bottom of the 8th – Gold Locks Down the Phantom Aces

Dorian Lowe stepped up first.

His shadow didn’t match his movements.

First pitch—he swung.

A grounder to third.

🔥 Brock reacted instantly—fired to first. OUT. 🔥

Samuel Harlow followed.

He battled to a full count, but when the ball came—🔥 Leander made a diving catch. OUT. 🔥

Then came Maddox Kane.

For a moment, time seemed to slow.

Herc exhaled, rolling his shoulders. The ball sat heavy in his grip. Maddox watched him, expression unreadable.

🔥 First pitch—strike.

🔥 Second pitch—strike.

Herc wound up, and Maddox swung hard.

🔥 MISS. 🔥

🔥 STRIKEOUT. 🔥

The Phantom Aces' captain had fallen.

Gold’s dugout roared—but the shadows surged.

Something wasn’t over.

🏆 End of 8th Inning – Gold Still Leads 12-8

But the curse wasn’t done yet.

The Stadium Warps

The 9th inning begins, but the field is no longer the same.

The bases stretch further apart, the foul lines twist unnaturally, bending into the mist before snapping back into place. The pitcher's mound feels taller, steeper, the very air around it thick with resistance. The stadium itself shudders, shifting as if fighting to hold its shape.

Grayden (@polo-drone-084) raises his sword, his golden glow flickering against the creeping darkness. “GOLD ARMY, HOLD THE LINE!”

Milo (@polo-drone-151) barks, his sleek polo-drone form twisting through the air, snapping at the shadows that refuse to disperse.

But the Phantom Aces are no longer playing baseball. They are fighting to keep their reality intact.

Tamerlan (@polo-drone-073) sees it immediately. His fingers tighten around his armrest in the dugout, frustration boiling beneath his skin. He had prepared for this. He might have not anticipated the trick they used to bring back the pain of his old injury, but visual illusions were well within his tactical predictions. Since getting out, he had been busy adjusting his work to account for the property of the strange place they were in.

Without hesitation, he pulls out  two pairs of goggles and shoves them into Brandon and Brock’s hands.

“Put these on. Now.” His voice is sharp, urgent.

Brandon pulls them on first. The bases snap back into place. The distortion lessens. His breath steadies.

Brock follows, his grip tightening on his bat. No hesitation. No second-guessing. Time to finish this.

Top of the 9th – Gold Pushes Through the Illusion

Score: 12-8, Gold Leading

Samuel Harlow still flickers on the mound, his shadow moving before his body, a half-second ahead of reality.

Brock steps up first. He doesn’t think about the unnatural pull of the stadium. He trusts the goggles, trusts his training, trusts his bat.

First pitch—a fast curveball, breaking too late. Ball one.

Brock grips the bat tighter. He sees it. The illusions don’t work.

Second pitch—he swings, clean contact!

🔥 DOUBLE. 🔥

He’s on second before the mist can try to trick him.

Roman follows.

The fog tightens, creeping toward the plate. He knows what he has to do.

First pitch—strike.

Second pitch—he squares up, bunts toward first.

The Phantom Aces react too late.

Brock charges to third. Roman is tagged out.

🔥 1 OUT. 🔥

Leander steps in.

The Aces adjust. The stadium twists.

First pitch—strike.

Second pitch—strike.

Third pitch—he swings at nothing.

🔥 STRIKEOUT. 🔥

🔥 2 OUTS. 🔥

Ares grips his bat. He inhales sharply, pushing the weight of the shadows off his shoulders.

He knows the feeling of being watched. But he also knows the feeling of being stronger.

First pitch—strike.

Second pitch—strike.

He exhales, adjusting.

Foul.

Foul.

Foul.

The Aces won’t let him through. But he won’t stop.

Next pitch—contact.

🔥 Brock sprints home.

🔥 13-8. 🔥

Ares plants himself at first, his breath even, controlled. He refuses to look at the mist creeping toward the bases.

Mack steps up. The Phantom Aces stall, twisting the air around him.

First pitch—ball.

Second pitch—ball.

Third pitch—a sharp grounder.

Ares breaks into a sprint, tearing toward third.

Mack barrels toward first—🔥 SAFE. 🔥

The Final Play: Briar’s Gamble, Ares’ Divine Sprint

Brandon turns to Briar as he steps up, his voice low and steady.

“Vincent’s trying to shut you down. He’s adjusting the calls too fast. He’s expecting you to swing hard. Don’t.”

Briar listens. He adjusts.

First pitch—strike.

Second pitch—strike.

Vincent locks in the kill shot. He calls for a fastball, expecting Briar to swing through it.

🔥 But Briar bunts. 🔥

A soft roller down the first-base line.

He charges.

The bases warp. The distance stretches.

🔥 They are trapped in an illusion. 🔥

Briar pushes harder, but he’s not fast enough. The tag is coming.

Ares doesn’t think. He moves.

The shadows try to drag him down, but he burns through them.

🔥 HE DIVES. 🔥

🔥 SAFE. 🔥

🔥 14-8. 🔥

Ares managed to score just before Briar was tagged out. 3 OUTS. Inning over, but momentum is Gold. The dugout erupts. 

Bottom of the 9th – The Curse Fights Back

Score: 14-8, Gold Leading

The mist rises again. The field stretches farther, pulling away.

Brandon tightens his mask. He sees through it.

The curse is pushing back harder than ever.

🔥 The Final Duel: Brandon vs. Vincent Moreau

Vincent steps up.

For eight innings, they have been testing each other. Every pitch, every signal, every play at the plate.

Now, it comes down to this.

Vincent’s expression is unreadable. But his grip is tighter.

Brandon sees it.

He smirks.

“Not today.”

First pitch—curveball, outside.

Vincent doesn’t swing. Ball one.

The mist ripples. The field warps.

Brandon calls for a fastball, inside.

Herc fires.

Vincent swings—🔥 MISS. 🔥

🔥 STRIKE ONE. 🔥

Brandon adjusts. Breaking ball.

Herc winds up.

The mist claws at the ball, tries to twist it.

🔥 Herc pushes through. 🔥

🔥 STRIKE TWO. 🔥

Vincent adjusts his stance.

Brandon grins. Final call.

🔥 Fastball, high.

Vincent swings.

🔥 MISS. 🔥

🔥 STRIKE THREE. OUT. 🔥

The dugout erupts.

🔥 The Curse Fights Back – The Fog Closes In

Vincent Moreau was out. Struck down by Brandon’s perfect call and Herc’s sheer power. But the Phantom Aces weren’t finished.

The stadium groaned. The mist curled thicker, heavier, unnatural. The field itself was twisting, stretching.

Jesse Briggs stepped up, his body moving with an eerie calm precision.

First pitch—contact!

A fast roller toward first.

Brody moved for it, his stance solid—but the ball flickered.

His glove closed on nothing.

Illusion.

The real ball zipped past him, skipping toward Briar in right field.

Briar reacted fast, snatching it up, but Jesse had already sprinted past first. He slid into second, untouched.

One on second. No outs.

The fog grew thicker. The air felt heavier.

And then came Maddox Kane.

Herc exhaled sharply, gripping the ball tighter. This was it.

He wound up, threw a vicious curveball—

Maddox swung—contact.

A high fly ball.

Leander was on it immediately. He adjusted, tracked its path, glove open, ready to end it—

But as the ball dropped into his glove…

🔥 It wasn’t real. 🔥

The illusion shattered in his hands.

The real ball hit the dirt.

Too late.

Jesse charged past third. Maddox reached first.

Leander reacted fast, launching the ball to Brandon.

Jesse held. Maddox held.

The Phantom Aces weren’t pushing their luck.

Runners on first and third. No outs.

The stadium groaned again.

And then came Dominic.

The mist coiled around him. The air stretched unnaturally.

Herc inhaled sharply, then fired a fastball.

🔥 Time slowed. 🔥

Dominic’s eyes gleamed. His body adjusted unnaturally, like he had already seen the pitch before it was thrown.

CRACK.

The ball shot deep.

Ares took off.

It was too far. Too high.

🔥 Jesse scored. 🔥

Maddox rounded third—

But Ares planted his feet, fired a perfect throw to Brandon.

Maddox stopped in his tracks.

Dominic on first. Maddox on third. One out.

🔥 14-9. 🔥

The fog surged. The lights dimmed.

The curse was trying to rewrite the game.

🔥 Julian at Bat – The Phantom’s Trickery Peaks

Julian Graves stepped up.

Herc tightened his grip.

Brandon signaled.

But—

🔥 He couldn’t see Brandon. 🔥

The fog was too thick. The shadows too strong.

First pitch—ball.

Brandon called for a fastball.

Second pitch—🔥 STRIKE. 🔥

Third pitch—🔥 STRIKE. 🔥

The dugout leaned forward. One more—

Herc wound up, launched a perfect fourth pitch—

Julian bunted.

🔥 The ball disappeared. 🔥

Brandon saw through it.

“ROMAN—DIVE!”

Roman launched himself forward, stretching for the ball—

🔥 Too late. 🔥

Maddox tore across home plate.

Dominic advanced to second.

Julian safe at first.

🔥 14-10. 🔥

The dugout went silent.

The Phantom Aces were gaining momentum.

The stadium was breaking.

🔥 Time Out – Herc’s Final Words

Herc lifted his cap, his golden aura flaring.

The team looked at him. The mist tightened, the shadows creeping closer.

“Listen up.” His voice was firm. Unshaken.

He met each of their eyes.

“Tricks won’t save them. Tricks won’t win this game.”

His gaze locked on Brandon.

“Call it. I’ll end it.”

Brandon nodded.

The dugout stood taller. The Golden Knight raised his sword.

Milo barked.

🔥 They would not lose. 🔥

🔥 The Final Out – Ezra Faces Fate

Ezra Quinn stepped up.

But he wasn’t alone.

🔥 Maddox’s shadow still loomed over him. 🔥

The stadium turned pitch black.

🔥 The field vanished. 🔥

Only Brandon. Only Herc. Only Ezra.

But they didn’t need to see.

Brandon signaled.

Low pitch.

Herc threw.

Ezra settled for a ground roller.

🔥 Mack sensed it, reacting immediately. No thoughts involved.

He scooped the ball, tagged Julian out.

🔥 OUT. 🔥

Mack spun, launched the ball to Brock.

🔥 The ball disappeared.

🔥 Illusion.

But Brock saw through it.

🔥 He clutched it, tagged Dominic. 🔥

🔥 OUT. 🔥

🔥 THREE OUTS. GAME OVER. 🔥

🏆 THE FINAL OUT. THE CURSE BREAKS.

For a moment, everything is still.

Then—

🔥 THE PHANTOM ACES VANISH. 🔥

The mist collapses inward.

The stadium shudders, cracks splintering through the dirt.

The curse unravels.

The Phantom Aces are gone.

Only Maddox Kane lingers. Herc watches him. Maddox smiles—just a little, before fading into the mist.

And Gold?

🔥 Gold has won. 🔥

FINAL SCORE: 14-10 – GOLD ARMY BREAKS THE CURSE

🔥 The Unbeaten Have Fallen. 🔥 The Phantom Stadium Crumbles. 🔥 Gold Has Done the Impossible.

History has been rewritten.

______ (Pictures by @polo-drone-151, @goldenherc9 and @polo-drone-070). Join the Gold now to face such challenges with us. Contact @brodygold, @goldenherc9 or @polo-drone-001.

[goldenarmyofficial]

⚾ Midnight Challenge - Part 3 – The Turning point

Top of the 6th Inning – Gold Fighting Back

Score: 7-3 Phantom Aces Leading.

The air was suffocating, thick with an unnatural pressure. The Phantom Aces stood like statues, shadows curling around their feet. Ace the Phantom Hawk circled above, its silver eyes gleaming like twin lanterns in the fog. The revelations of Janus @polo-drone-055 (see here) were still ringing in everyone’s mind, feeling them with a mix of dread and resolution. 

Brandon (#58) @brandongold58 stepped into the batter’s box, his stance solid. The weight pressing on his shoulders was real—but he wasn’t about to crumble.

Ace’s shadow swooped lower.

For a split second, the Gold dugout darkened further.

But then—

A black-and-gold blur launched into the sky.

Milo. (@polo-drone-151)

The polo-drone pup, sleek and rubbery, twisting through the air with inhuman agility.

SNAP. His jaws clamped down just inches from Ace’s wing.

The Phantom Hawk shrieked, flapping wildly, veering away. Its shadow flickered, warping unnaturally as it retreated.

From the dugout entrance, Grayden, the Golden Knight @polo-drone-084, threw his fist into the air.

“THAT’S RIGHT! DRIVE THE SHADOWS BACK!”

For the first time, his voice carried.

The fog rolled back slightly. The stadium lights brightened just a bit.

Brandon exhaled.

The weight wasn’t gone—but it had shifted.

He gripped his bat tighter, reset his stance. Time to swing.

Gold Starts Clawing Back

Brandon faced Isaiah Crowe (#21). The pitcher’s smirk had faded slightly.

Brandon wasn’t playing into his tricks.

First pitch—ball. Second pitch—foul. Third pitch—fastball. Brandon read it cleanly.

CRACK!

The ball sailed into center field.

Brandon tore down the baseline—SAFE at first!

The dugout roared.

Brody (#11) @brodygold stepped in. He took two fast strikes but never wavered. On the third pitch, he adjusted, sending a grounder past second base.

Brandon advanced to third.

Gold’s momentum was shifting.

Brock (#46) @brockgold followed. He fought through a long at-bat, fouling off two pitches before launching a laser down left field!

Brandon sprinted for home.

SLIDE—SAFE!

7-4.

The dugout exploded.

Brody took third base.

Roman (#68) @roman-golden-68 was up. New to the game, but steady. He held strong, but Isaiah adjusted.

A wicked breaking ball snapped into the zone.

Strike three.

Roman cursed under his breath, walking back to the dugout.

Tamerlan (#73) @eddy-gold-73 stepped in.

His legs were trembling. The phantom pain burned, like cold iron sinking into his muscles.

But he gritted his teeth, forced himself to swing.

Weak contact.

The ball rolled toward first base. Jesse Briggs (#19) scooped it up effortlessly.

OUT.

But Brody was already flying down the third baseline.

SLIDE—SAFE.

7-5.

Tamerlan staggered back toward the dugout, his breathing heavy, but he refused to leave the game.

Coach Chet watched him closely. He had one more play in him—but that was it.

Dylan (#20) @dylangold20 stepped up.

He swung hard—but Caleb Hayes (#7) materialized in left field.

OUT.

Inning over.

Bottom of the 6th – Phantom Aces Try to Extend Their Lead

Ezra Quinn (#10) led off.

But Mack (#70) @polo-drone-070 wasn’t letting him slip away.

A sharp grounder up the middle—Mack charged in, barehanded the scoop, and fired to Brody.

OUT.

Nate Voss (#9) followed.

First pitch—he LAUNCHED it deep to left field.

Tamerlan tracked it, sprinting despite the agony in his legs.

The pain was unbearable.

But he didn’t stop.

The ball was sinking fast.

Tamerlan dived—JUMPED—CAUGHT IT.

OUT.

The crowd roared—but Tamerlan collapsed.

His legs finally gave out.

He clutched his thigh, gasping, unable to stand.

Leander (#88) @leander-gold-88 sprinted from the dugout. Substitution.

Tamerlan had fought through the pain for too long. He was done.

Isaiah Crowe (#21) stepped in.

And he wasn’t done playing mind games.

Xavier @polo-drone-039 took a breath, focused—he needed to end this inning.

First pitch—fastball, strike. Isaiah didn’t even flinch.

Second pitch—Isaiah suddenly dropped his stance—BUNT.

Xavier snapped forward, barehanded the ball, and fired to Brody.

OUT.

Top of the 7th – Gold Claws Back

Score: 7-5 Phantom Aces Leading

The air in Specter Stadium is thick—heavier than before, pressing on Gold like a physical weight. But in the dugout, something is shifting.

The Golden Knight stands tall, sword raised high. Beside him, Milo—the polo-drone pup—barks sharply, energy radiating from his sleek silhouette. His golden eyes track the shadows circling overhead.

And then—Mack steps into the batter’s box.

Isaiah Crowe is waiting. Smirking.

Mack grips his bat tight.

He doesn’t care how heavy the air feels.

He doesn’t care what tricks Isaiah has.

He knows his body. His instincts. His speed.

Crowe winds up.

First pitch—fastball, outside.

Mack doesn’t bite. Ball one.

Second pitch—inside.

Mack steps back. Ball two.

Isaiah’s smirk falters.

Crowe adjusts, throwing a wicked breaking ball.

Mack sees it before it even leaves his hand.

CRACK.

The ball launches into the night—HIGH, DEEP—GONE.

HOME RUN.

The dugout ERUPTS. The Golden Knight raises his sword high, and the shadows recoil just a bit.

7-6.

Isaiah’s lips press into a tight line. He steps off the mound.

Briar @polo-drone-050 steps up.

For a moment, he feels strong. The shadows seem less suffocating. The team is fighting back.

First pitch—contact!

It flies to left field—Caleb Hayes barely has to move.

OUT.

Isaiah exhales, adjusting his glove. The moment of momentum is halted.

Isaac @isaac-gold-45 steps in.

He grits his teeth. He’s been studying Crowe’s throws all game.

Crowe pitches.

CRACK.

Deep right field—BOUNCES OFF THE WALL!

Isaac digs for second—SAFE.

The dugout roars again.

Brandon steps up. He’s been solid all game. Steady. Unshaken. He locks eyes with Crowe.

Isaiah pitches.

Brandon swings. CLEAN HIT.

The ball cuts past Julian in right field.

Isaac sprints home.

TIE GAME. 7-7.

The Gold dugout is ALIVE. They’re IN this.

Brody steps up, bat in hand.

Isaiah glares at him.

Crowe winds up.

Brody reads the pitch. Swings.

The ball shoots toward Maddox at shortstop.

Maddox scoops—fires to second.

Jesse catches—fires to first.

DOUBLE PLAY.

The Phantom Aces kill the momentum.

Inning over.

But the damage is done.

7-7.

The Gold dugout is ON FIRE.

Bottom of the 7th – Xavier vs. The Abyss

Maddox Kane steps up to the plate.

The air shifts.

Xavier exhales, rolling his shoulders. His arms feel heavier. His breathing is slightly off. But he focuses.

Brandon calls for a fastball.

Xavier throws.

Maddox doesn’t swing.

Ball one.

Brandon frowns. “Oi, bruv, focus.”

Xavier nods, trying to shake the fog out of his head.

He winds up—throws.

Maddox doesn’t swing.

Ball two.

The dugout murmurs. Something is off.

Brandon steps forward, tossing the ball back harder than usual. “X, shake it off.”

Xavier clenches his jaw.

Third pitch—fastball.

Maddox swings—FOUL.

Xavier exhales. Better.

Strike one.

Brandon doesn’t let Xavier hesitate. Next pitch—another fastball, high and inside.

Maddox doesn’t bite.

Ball three.

Xavier clenches his jaw. He’s losing his edge.

Brandon calls for a curve—Xavier throws.

Maddox swings—foul again.

Count is full. Tension thickens.

Xavier winds up for the final pitch.

CRACK!

A clean hit, bouncing toward right field.

Dylan reacts instantly, charging in, grabbing it after a single bounce.

Maddox sprints—but Dylan’s quick hands fire it back in.

Safe on first.

No out.

Vincent Moreau at Bat – The Distortion Unfolds

Brandon watches Vincent step up.

His rival. His shadow. His challenge.

Brandon narrows his eyes.

First pitch—fastball. Vincent doesn’t swing.

Ball one.

Brandon shifts slightly. The air feels strange.

Next pitch—slider, outside corner.

Vincent swings—foul.

Strike one.

Brandon exhales. Stay sharp.

Next pitch—fastball, inside.

Vincent swings—foul.

Strike two.

Xavier focuses. Another one like that—

Next pitch—Vincent swings again.

Foul.

Then another.

Another.

Three consecutive foul balls.

Brandon’s breath catches.

Something’s wrong.

The plate feels further away.

Xavier throws again.

Vincent swings.

CRACK!

The ball rolls deep past third base.

Brock charges, scoops it— but Maddox and Vincent are already safe on second and first.

Jesse Briggs at Bat – The Bases Fill

Jesse steps up, calm and unreadable.

Brandon narrows his eyes. “X, keep ‘im outta the zone, but don’t fall into his game.”

Xavier nods. Focus. Brandon signals—fastball, corners. Xavier throws.

STRIKE ONE.

Brandon calls for another.

Ball one.

Brandon’s fingers dig into the leather of his mitt.

This isn’t just fatigue.

This is something else.

Jesse adjusts.

Brandon signals again—another fastball.

STRIKE TWO.

For a moment, Xavier sees the opening—

But Jesse doesn’t hesitate.

CRACK.

A perfect bunt.

The Phantom Aces explode into motion.

Jesse sprints to first, unstoppable.

Maddox advances.

Vincent advances.

Jesse—SAFE.

Bases are loaded.

Maddox Kane Again – The Distortion Deepens

Brandon feels it now.

This isn’t just exhaustion.

This isn’t just a game.

The Phantom Aces are bending reality.

And Maddox is waiting.

Brandon signals Xavier. They can’t play safe.

First pitch—risky fastball, high.

Maddox doesn’t swing.

Ball one.

Brandon tightens his grip.

Next pitch—curveball, inside.

Maddox swings—foul.

Strike one.

Brandon breathes. Focus. Keep him off balance.

Next pitch—fastball, outside corner.

Maddox watches it. Doesn’t swing.

Ball two.

Brandon calls for another low breaking ball.

Maddox swings—foul.

Strike two.

Count is full.

Xavier winds up.

He throws.

Ball four.

BASE ON BALLS.

Phantom Aces score.

8-7.

Brandon’s stomach tightens.

Maddox laughs softly, stepping to first. 

Then he calls for a substitution.

Dominic "Revenant" Cole steps onto the field. Their best hitter. Something Changes.

The stadium warps.

Shadows twist  stretch, and coil around the field, seeping into the grass like living veins of darkness.

Xavier’s legs tremble. His vision blurs. His breath catches.

The dugout leans forward.  Their presence is heavier. More unnatural. The weight of their reality-bending trickery is suffocating.

The Golden Knight and Milo cheer—but it’s fading against the darkness.

Phantom Aces are closing in.

Xavier can barely feel his arm. The ball in his grip seems distant, as if it’s slipping through time itself. Brody sees Xavier crumbling. Should he switch Roman in as pitcher ? They need to stop it fast. Trey, who had been observing the match intently since his apparition as Janus, stands up, sensing something, and signals Brody to wait. A moment of tension…

And then—

BOOM.

The sky rips apart.

A golden rift shatters through the veil of darkness, jagged like a divine lightning strike splitting the heavens.

Thunder doesn't just echo—it detonates.

The air collapses inward—then EXPLODES OUTWARD.

A figure steps through.

No—he doesn’t step.

He lands.

With an earth-shaking THUD, his massive frame crashes onto the mound like a meteor slamming into the battlefield of gods. The ground QUAKES beneath him. The pitcher's plate cracks. Dust and golden sparks swirl around him.

Hercules @goldenherc9 has returned.

His form is radiance incarnate, his muscles etched in divine perfection, his golden uniform shimmering like molten light.

His golden aura pulses outward, swallowing the creeping black mist.

The dugout erupts.

The Phantom Aces hesitate.

Even Maddox Kane’s smirk wavers—just for a second.

Xavier stumbles backward, wide-eyed. His exhaustion evaporates, but not from recovery—from sheer awe.

Herc places a massive hand on Xavier’s shoulder.

“Rest.”

His voice rumbles through the field like a battle drum.

Xavier nods, stepping off the mound.

Isaac hands his bat to Herc. He, too, knows what this means.

Herc takes the ball.

And everything changes.

Herc vs. Dominic – The Storm Breaks

Dominic grits his teeth. He’s no coward, but Herc isn’t a man—he’s a force.

Brandon squares up behind the plate, fire in his eyes. He sees it.

The shift.

The momentum breaking.

Herc winds up.

First pitch—

Dominic swings—MISS.

Strike one.

Herc doesn’t blink.

Second pitch—

Dominic swings late—FAST.

Strike two.

He exhales sharply. Readjusts. But there’s no time.

Third pitch—

Dominic swings—EMPTY AIR.

STRIKE THREE. OUT.

Herc doesn’t even acknowledge him. Just turns. Just keeps walking.

The Phantom dugout is silent.

Herc vs. Julian – The Titan Marches On

Julian steps in, eyes flickering with eerie moonlight. His bat rests lazily on his shoulder, but his presence is sharp.

Brandon calls it—inside slider.

Herc throws.

Julian misses.

Strike one.

Brandon smirks. Yeah. That’s right. Feel it, bruv.

Second pitch—curveball.

Julian reacts late—he swings.

Strike two.

The crowd grows tense.

Third pitch—fastball, dead center.

Julian swings—contact!

The ball hisses toward the ground—but Brock is already moving.

SCOOP. FIRE TO FIRST—OUT.

Two outs.

The Phantom Aces remain still.

Something Is Wrong.

Brandon feels it first.

The air thickens.

A pulse of something… unnatural.

Maddox Kane steps away from third base.

But another Maddox Kane stands at the dugout.

Two.

And then—one.

One Maddox fades into the mist, merging into Ezra Quinn’s shadow.

Ezra’s eyes snap up. They shine.

His posture shifts—not his, but Maddox’s.

A hollow smirk spreads across his face.

He steps into the batter’s box.

And Brandon understands.

This isn’t Ezra anymore.

This is Maddox’s final trick.

Herc vs. Ezra/Maddox – The False Home Run

Herc narrows his eyes. He doesn’t question. He doesn’t hesitate.

First pitch—fastball.

Ezra swings—MISS.

Strike one.

Brandon steadies himself. He sees it. The distortion hasn’t left. Maddox is still manipulating something.

Herc throws again—fast. Precise.

Ezra swings again—empty air.

Strike two.

But then—it happens.

Brandon’s breath catches. Something warps.

The shadows pull.

The lights flicker.

Ezra grins—no, Maddox grins through him.

Herc winds up.

He throws.

CRACK.

The ball explodes off the bat.

It’s too perfect.

A textbook home run.

It’s going over the fence.

The stadium seems to stretch.

Herc turns, eyes locked.

Brandon turns—breath held.

The dugout goes dead silent.

But then—

A flash of gold.

A streak of motion.

A blur with wings.

Dylan isn’t Dylan anymore.

His body flickers—his feet leave the ground—his aura shifts.

Hermes takes flight.

He jumps.

Higher than should be possible.

His glove extends.

The ball meets leather.

CAUGHT.

The Stadium Stops.

For a moment—just a moment—even the Phantom Aces freeze.

Dylan lands, panting, fire in his eyes.

He turns, lifting his glove.

The ball is there.

Ezra stands at home plate, frozen.

The dugout explodes.

Milo barks. The Golden Knight roars.

The inning is OVER.

Herc steps down from the mound.

Brandon removes his mask, grinning.

The shadows recoil.

The Phantom Aces’ perfect plan—

Crushed. 8-7 Phantom Aces Leading.

It’s time for Gold’s comeback.

______ (Pictures by @polo-drone-151, @goldenherc9 and @polo-drone-070). Join the Gold now to face such challenges with us. Contact @brodygold, @goldenherc9 or @polo-drone-001.

[goldenarmyofficial]

⚾ Midnight Challenge - Part 2 – The Struggle

Bottom of the 2nd – Gold Shakes Off the Shadows

Julian Graves (#22) stood on first, his body still, but his eyes gleaming under the dim stadium lights. He was watching. Studying. Waiting.

At bat was Ezra “Vanishing Act” Quinn (#10), the Phantom Aces’ second baseman. The kind of player you lost track of between blinks.

Xavier (#39) adjusted his cap, his mind as sharp as the chilling wind that swept through Specter Stadium. He knew how the Aces worked—creeping into your head, forcing hesitation. But he had Brandon (#58) behind the plate. His rock.

Brandon called for a breaking ball, fingers subtle behind his mitt. Xavier nodded.

First pitch—SLICE!

The ball snapped downward, breaking hard. Ezra jerked his bat up—too late.

STRIKE ONE.

Brandon grinned. “What’s wrong, bruv? Thought you were vanishin’?” Ezra said nothing. Just blinked. Still as a statue.

Second pitch—FASTBALL. Ezra swung—miss. STRIKE TWO.

Still no reaction.

Brandon narrowed his eyes. Something was off.

Xavier wound up for the third pitch—a high-speed slider. Ezra lifted his bat… Didn’t swing.

THUD. The ball smacked into Brandon’s mitt. STRIKE THREE. OUT.

Ezra exhaled. His head turned slightly toward the dugout—toward Maddox Kane. The Phantom Captain barely nodded. As if this was expected.“Two outs,” Brandon muttered, standing up. “One more.”

But the next batter made the air feel heavier. Nate Voss (#9). The Doppelgänger.

Xavier exhaled, wiping sweat from his brow. Nate was a ghost in the outfield, but at bat? He was something else. He didn’t crush home runs—he forced mistakes. His speed was unnatural.

First pitch—ball.

Second pitch—a foul tip. Nate’s stance never changed.

Third pitch—weak contact!

The ball shot toward left field—too shallow for a clean hit.

Tamerlan (#73) exploded off his feet, scooping it up in one smooth motion.

Julian sprinted for second.

Alex (#64) braced himself at the bag, eyes locked on Tamerlan’s throw.

The ball hit his glove. Julian dove— TAGGED. OUT.

The Golden Army roared as the inning ended.

Score: 3-2, Phantom Aces leading.

Top of the 3rd – The Mind Games Begin

Mack (#70) stepped up to the plate, rolling his shoulders. Time to set the fookin’ tone.

Across from him stood Isaiah Crowe (#21).

A slow grin spread across Crowe’s face. His presence was unnatural—like he already knew how this at-bat would end.

“Oi, ya creepy fuck,” Mack growled. “Gonna pitch or just stare all night?”

Isaiah lifted the ball. He didn’t answer.

First pitch—slider.

Mack swung hard—CLANG! Foul ball.

Isaiah chuckled, shaking his head. “You swing like you don’t trust your own hands.”

Mack’s jaw clenched.

Second pitch—fastball.

Mack braced—but his instincts screamed late.

He swung—empty air. STRIKE TWO.

Isaiah’s smirk widened. “That hesitation, Mack. You feel it, don’t you?”

Mack forced himself to stay cool. Focus. Feel. Don’t think. 

The next pitch never came.

Isaiah just stood there, spinning the ball between his fingers, letting the tension stretch.

Then he spoke.

“Herc’s gone, isn’t he?”

The Gold dugout went dead silent. Mack’s grip on the bat tightened so hard his knuckles turned white.

Isaiah’s voice was smooth, venomous. “He left you. Ran away before the big game. And you lot? You ain’t got a chance without him.”

A snarl twisted at Mack’s lips. Isaiah was lying. But why did it feel like he knew more?

Brandon barked from the dugout. “Mack! Don’t listen, bruv!”

Mack exhaled. No hesitation. No thoughts. Just instincts. He could hear Frey’s voice centering him. He had trained for this.

Next pitch—OUTSIDE. Ball one.

Isaiah narrowed his eyes. His bait didn’t work.

Next pitch—OUTSIDE. Ball two.

Mack stepped forward. Crowe was trying to trick him.

Third pitch—low curveball. Mack sensed it, and called it right. Ball three.

Isaiah’s smirk twitched.

Final pitch—outside again.

BALL FOUR. Mack walked to first base.

He grinned, leaning toward Crowe as he passed.

“Oi, fuckface. Herc ain’t gone. He’s just waitin’ to crush ya later.”

Crowe’s eyes darkened.

Daniel (#16) stepped in. Crowe changed tactics—fast, aggressive pitches.

Daniel took the first pitch—ball one.

The second pitch? A brutal curveball.

STRIKE ONE.

Daniel gritted his teeth.

Then came the fastball.

Daniel swung—too late. STRIKE TWO.

Crowe’s voice slithered through the night.

“You sure you wanna stand here, pup? Your buddy Herc knew better.”

Daniel’s pupils narrowed. A low growl built in his throat.

Next pitch—near his face.

Daniel flinched—barely dodging it.

Ball two.

Crowe just laughed.

Final pitch—fast.

Daniel swung—STRIKE THREE.

Crowe turned away before the umpire even called it.

Daniel stomped back to the dugout, fists clenched. “That fucker…”

Brandon gripped his shoulder. “Focus, bruv. Don’t give ‘im the satisfaction.”

Daniel exhaled. Still fumin’, but still in the game.

Isaac (#45) stepped up. He knew Crowe was about to copy Xavier’s pitches.

First pitch—fastball, just like Xavier’s.

Isaac watched it. Ball one.

Second pitch—curve, exactly like Xavier’s.

Strike.

Isaac stayed calm. He KNEW Xavier’s throwing habits. He could use it.

Third pitch—strike two.

Brandon shouted, “You got this, bruv!”

Isaac breathed in. Adjusted his stance.

Final pitch—fastball, inside.

Isaac swung. CRACK.

Clean hit. He sprinted to first. Mack took second.

The dugout roared. Momentum was shifting.

The Breaking Point – End of the 3rd Top Inning

Brandon (#58) stepped in, unshaken. First pitch—foul.

Second pitch—CRACK!

The ball shot past Silas. Julian fielded it, firing to Maddox.

Mack ran for third.

Maddox turned—and threw.

OUT.

Mack barely stopped himself from slamming his helmet. The Aces’ defense was airtight.

Brandon stood on first. Isaac on second.

Two outs.

Then came Tariq.

First pitch—ball.

Second pitch—strike.

Third pitch—the trap.

Isaiah’s grin widened as he released the ball.

Tariq swung hard—too soon.

CRACK.

The sound echoed through Specter Stadium, sharp as a gunshot.

Tariq’s bat clattered to the dirt, his forearm twisting at an unnatural angle. His face contorted in pain as he dropped to one knee, clutching his arm.

The Gold dugout erupted.

Daniel was over the fence before anyone could stop him, eyes locked on Isaiah Crowe’s smirking face.

Trevor was right behind him, muscles bulging, veins pulsing.

And then?

They weren’t just Daniel and Trevor anymore.

Their bodies convulsed, twisted. Claws extended from their fingertips. Fangs bared. Their pupils shrunk to slits, glowing with a primal, golden rage.

A split second before they lunged, the umpire’s whistle screeched through the air.

“EJECTED! EJECTED!”

Security swarmed the field.

Trevor’s chest heaved, his claws still digging into the dirt. Daniel’s breathing was ragged, his muscles still coiled, ready to rip Crowe apart.

From behind the plate, Vincent Moreau just watched. Unblinking. Expressionless.

Isaiah took a slow step back, lifting his hands in mock innocence. “Aw, was that too much for you lot?”

Mack grabbed Daniel and shoved him back. “Oi! We need ya out here, not locked up, ya dumb mutt!”

Brandon held Trevor back, voice low and sharp. “They want this. They want us rattled. Don’t. Fucking. Give it to them.”

Slowly, the tension cracked.

Daniel and Trevor snarled but backed off, retreating toward the dugout.

The damage was done.

Tariq was helped off the field. His forearm was swelling fast. He was out.

Brody grabbed his helmet. No hesitation. No second thoughts. He was stepping in.

Coach Chet signaled the other subs. Brock replaced Trevor at third base. Briar stepped in for Daniel, moving to right field while Dylan shifted to center.

Gold’s lineup was shaken, but not broken.

Brody took his place at bat.

Count: 1 ball, 2 strikes.

Crowe threw.

Brody read the ball instantly. Instead of swinging—he BUNTED.

Isaac took off from third, sprinting like his life depended on it.

The Phantom Aces reacted late.

Silas charged forward, scooping the ball—but Isaac was already sliding home.

SAFE!

The dugout erupted. A small victory, but a victory.

Silas fired the ball to first—Brody was out.

End of the inning.

Score: 3-3.

The Gold Army had clawed one back.

But the Phantom Aces?

They were just getting started.

Bottom of the 3rd Inning – Phantom Aces Press the Attack

Maddox Kane stood just outside the batter’s box, watching. Studying. A smirk barely tugged at his lips as he observed Gold’s substitutions settling into place. New faces, fresh weaknesses to exploit.

But first, Isaiah.

Crowe strode to the plate, rolling his shoulders, exuding pure calculated confidence. He wasn’t just here to hit—he was here to get inside Xavier’s head.

Brandon squatted behind the plate, fingers flashing the signs. "Stay sharp, block him out." Xavier gave a sharp nod, but Crowe’s eyes never left him.

First pitch—fastball.

Strike one. Isaiah didn’t flinch.

Second pitch—slider.

Strike two. Again, no reaction. Just that slow, knowing smirk.

Xavier inhaled, shoulders squared, ready for the third.

Crowe finally spoke, voice low, smooth. "You’re missing something."

Xavier’s grip tightened.

"You feel it, don’t you?" Crowe tapped his helmet lightly. "That gap. The absence. The missing piece."

Isaiah let the words settle before driving the next pitch down the third-base line. A perfect grounder—fast, controlled, precise.

Mack sprinted, snatched it clean, fired to second—

Too late.

Crowe’s cleats slammed onto first base before the ball even reached Brody. Smooth, too smooth. He stood up, dusting himself off, flashing Xavier another smirk.

Xavier clenched his jaw. Don’t let him in. Don’t let him win.

Isaiah stepped forward.

Just an inch.

Then another.

Xavier set his stance, eyes locked on the mound. Ignore him.

Another step.

Brody caught it first. "XAVIER—"

Xavier whipped around, launching to first—

Isaiah barely slid back in. Safe.

The smirk never left his face.

Then Maddox Kane stepped up.

Brandon squared his shoulders behind the plate. Maddox wasn't just any batter. He was the architect of this whole game. The moment he locked eyes with you, it felt like you were following his plan—not the other way around.

Brandon narrowed his eyes. Not today.

First pitch—a ball. Too high. Maddox didn’t move.

Second pitch—foul. Straight back. Xavier steadied.

Third pitch—the trap snapped shut.

Maddox unleashed hell.

CRACK.

The ball vanished into the night.

Isaiah glided home. Maddox followed.

HOME RUN. 5-3 Phantom Aces.

The Gold dugout went dead silent.

Brandon’s fingers dug into his mitt as he exhaled sharply. Behind the plate, Vincent Moreau watched him. Waiting.

They had faced off before. Vincent’s defense was impeccable. But Brandon? Brandon refused to be the lesser catcher.

Moreau stepped up to bat. First pitch—strike. Second pitch—ball.

Brandon caught Moreau’s gaze, tossing the ball back to Xavier. "You don’t talk much, huh?"

Vincent remained unreadable. Unshaken. Then he smirked.

Brandon’s breath hitched—because it wasn’t Vincent's smirk.

It was Isaiah’s.

Xavier threw the next pitch—clean contact. A sharp drive past Alex, sending Vincent to second base.

Gold refused to break.

Silas Reed stepped in. Silent as death.

Brandon exhaled sharply. Mack met his gaze. Time to end this.

Ground ball—Brock reacted fast, snagged it, fired to Mack.

OUT.

Mack spun—fired to Brody.

OUT.

Double play. Inning over.

The Phantom Aces led 5-3.

But Gold? Gold wasn’t done.

Top of the 4th – Gold Shut Down (Score: 5-3 Phantom Aces leading.)

Brock (#46) stepped up, gripping his bat tighter than usual. The stadium felt smaller. The Phantom Aces' defense felt bigger.

Across the mound, Isaiah Crowe (#21) spun the ball in his fingers, eyes half-lidded, like he was bored. Like he’d already decided how this would end.

Brock fought. Fouled one off. But the next two pitches vanished at the plate.

Strikeout.

Alex (#64) followed.

Unlike the others, he didn’t let the weight press on him. He analyzed. Tracked Crowe’s throws. Refused the mind games.

The count went full. Crowe adjusted mid-windup. The pitch veered just outside—Alex swung anyway.

The bat connected. A hard grounder up the middle—but Maddox was already moving.

Glove down. Fluid scoop. Bullet to first.

Out.

Tamerlan (#73) stepped up.

And Ace was still watching.

The hawk’s silver eyes locked onto him. The pain in his legs sharpened.

First pitch—strike. He shook it off.

Second pitch—ball.

Breathe.

Third pitch—contact. A sharp hit toward left—but Caleb was already there.

Out.

Gold got nothing.

Bottom of the 4th – Gold Holds the Line

Maddox Kane (#00) led off. He didn’t swing at the first two pitches. Forced Xavier to throw into his zone.

Then—CRACK. A clean single to left.

Gold tightened their defense.

Caleb Hayes (#7) grounded into a fielder’s choice—Alex pivoted, fired to first. Out. But Maddox advanced to second.

Julian Graves (#22) followed. Fly ball to Dylan—caught, but Maddox tagged up.

Maddox now on third.

The dugout tensed. The Phantom Aces could smell a run.

Ezra Quinn (#10) came up. Tried to slip a soft roller past Mack.

Mack wasn’t having it.

He charged, barehanded the ball, fired to first. Out.

Gold held.

But something felt off.

Morale Cracks – The Psychological Assault Intensifies (Between the 4th and 5th inning.)

The cold deepened.

Not just the night air—but something inside the dugout.

Isaac rubbed his arms. His bat felt heavier than before.

Briar clutched his glove too tight. His heart pounded.

Tamerlan blinked hard, trying to push through the pain. But it wasn’t his old injury. It was something else.

Something watching.

Brody saw it all. His jaw clenched.

Then, it happened.

Ace the Phantom Hawk swooped down over the field—too low.

The shadow passed over Dylan.

His chest tightened. His speed—his greatest weapon—felt slower.

Brock gripped his knees at third, blinking hard. For a split second, he saw two Isaiahs on first base.

Briar suddenly felt miles away. The stadium stretched, the bases farther apart. His breathing quickened.

At the dugout entrance, Grayden, the Golden Knight, raised his sword high.

“STAY STRONG, GOLD! PUSH FORWARD!”

But his words fell flat, dimmed by the eerie atmosphere. A chill ran down his spine.

Top of the 5th – The Noose Tightens (Score: 5-3 Phantom Aces leading.)

Dylan (#20) was fast. Everyone knew it. But tonight, speed felt… different.

He adjusted his stance at the plate, rolling his shoulders. He could still feel the way Ace’s shadow had passed over him last inning. The way his chest had tightened like something was pulling him down.

Crowe’s first pitch came fast—Dylan reacted a heartbeat late. The bat barely nicked the ball. Foul.

Second pitch—sinker. Dylan tried to adjust, but it dropped too fast. Strike two.

He inhaled. Don’t hesitate. Just react.

Third pitch—he swung clean. The ball soared toward left field—

And Caleb was just… there.

Not running. Not adjusting. Just standing under the ball, glove open, like he’d known exactly where it would land.

Out.

Mack (#70) stepped in, jaw tight, pulse steady.

He refused to let the atmosphere get to him.

First pitch—slider. Mack followed instinct—crack! Clean hit.

For half a second, he felt relief.

Then, a blur of black.

Maddox Kane was already there. Snatched the ball like he had been waiting for it.

Another out.

Briar (#50) dug his cleats in, refusing to let the momentum spiral.

First pitch—contact. A sharp grounder past first base—he bolted. SAFE.

Finally, something.

But the moment he looked toward second, he felt it.

Ace’s silver eyes gleamed from above. The bases suddenly felt miles apart.

Briar’s breath hitched.

Isaac (#45) was next. He felt the weight of the stadium. The pressure of Crowe.

Brandon’s voice rang from the dugout. “Keep your head, bruv.”

Isaac exhaled.

First pitch—CRACK.

A deep shot toward right field. The dugout erupted—

Julian Graves was already moving.

He didn’t run. He glided.

Like he’d seen it before it happened.

The ball landed perfectly in his glove.

Out.

Gold dugout fell silent.

Briar clenched his fists on first base. He was stranded.

Gold felt it.

Phantom Aces weren’t just playing baseball anymore.

They were controlling the field.

The shift in energy was undeniable.

Ace the Phantom Hawk soared low again, its shadow dragging across the field like a stain.

The moment it passed over the dugout, Briar exhaled sharply, feeling colder.

Isaac rubbed his arms, gripping his bat tighter.

Tamerlan stood in left field, blinking hard. His legs ached. But not from exhaustion. From something else.

A curse.

From the dugout, Brody (#11) saw everything.

The hesitation in Isaac’s grip. The way Briar’s shoulders tensed. The subtle slump in Dylan’s stance.

It was working.

The Phantom Aces were getting inside their heads.

Brody ground his teeth. His hands curled into fists. He had to keep them grounded.

Grayden, the Golden Knight, raised his sword from the dugout.

His voice boomed across the field.

“GOLD ARMY! HOLD THE LINE!”

But the fog curled deeper onto the field, muffling the sound. His golden glow dimmed.

Like something was swallowing them.

Alex (#64) narrowed his eyes, watching Ace circling above.

His gut twisted. That thing isn’t just a mascot.

That shadow was alive.

And it was draining them.

His instincts screamed. Chase it. Hunt it. Stop it.

But not yet.

For now, he had to stay grounded.

The team still needed him on the field.

Bottom of the 5th – The Nightmare Begins (Score: 5-3 Phantom Aces leading.)

Nate Voss (#9) led off.

First pitch—slow infield grounder.

Mack charged, scooped barehanded—fired to first.

But Nate was already there.

Safe.

Mack’s eyes narrowed. That speed wasn’t natural.

Isaiah Crowe (#21) stepped in.

First pitch—fly ball. Dylan tracked it, pushed off hard—caught it.

Out.

But Nate didn’t move from first. He just… stood there, eyes locked onto Xavier.

Maddox Kane (#00) stepped up.

He didn’t swing at the first two pitches. Just watched.

The third—CRACK.

A line drive into center.

Maddox jogged to first. Nate moved to second.

The pressure was suffocating.

Vincent Moreau (#13) took his stance.

Brandon locked eyes with him.

This was his rival.

His fingers twitched in his mitt. He needed to control the game.

Xavier fired. Vincent adjusted.

The ball rocketed past left field.

Briar sprinted—but it was too deep.

Double.

Maddox to third. Nate scored.

6-3 Phantom Aces.

Jesse Briggs (#19) subbed in for Silas.

First pitch—grounder to Brock.

Brock pivoted, fired home—

Maddox slid.

SAFE.

7-3 Phantom Aces.

Brandon slammed his mitt down. They were slipping.

Maddox Kane at-bat again.

Alex braced.

The ball was hit low. A soft roller toward second.

The moment Alex moved, the ball flickered.

For half a second, it vanished.

A trick. A curse.

Alex didn’t flinch.

He grabbed it clean.

Fired to first. OUT.

Vincent advanced to third.

Maddox leave the field, watching Alex.

Alex met his gaze.

For a split second, Maddox’s smirk faltered.

Caleb Hayes (#7) stepped in.

Fly ball—Dylan charged.

A diving catch and a quick pass to Brandon

Vincent 's way home is blocked, but he manage to get back to third before being tagged out. Caleb dived on first.

Julian Graves (#22) at-bat. Two outs, runners on first and third. Brandon look to Xavier. They must stop this before any more point is scored. Brandon signal for a low splitter, perfectly executed by Xavier despite the fatigue starting to seep in.

Ground ball—Mack grabbed it clean.

Fired to first at Brody.

OUT.

Inning over.

Alex’s Decision – The Chase Begins

Alex jogged back to the dugout, heart pounding.

He could still feel Ace’s presence.

The way it sank into the field.

The way it poisoned morale.

He looked at Grayden. The Golden Knight’s glow was flickering.

That wasn’t right.

This was more than just a game.

He knew what had to be done.

He grabbed Roman’s (#68) jersey from the bench.

“Coach,” Alex said, voice steady. “Sub me out.”

Chet turned. “What?”

Alex looked toward the phantom hawk circling above.

“I need to chase a ghost.”

Score: 7-3 Phantom Aces leading.

The Gold Army had taken a hit.

But the real fight was only beginning.

______ (Pictures by @polo-drone-151). Join the Gold now to face such challenges with us. Contact @brodygold, @goldenherc9 or @polo-drone-001.