Subject Status: Pre-Transformation / Human
Objective: Total Ego Dissolution and Hive Integration
Location: Dronification.club Processing Sector 7
The transition chamber was a cathedral of cold chrome and shifting shadows. In the center stood Subject 04, trembling slightly, his skin still exposed to the cool air. He looked at the Programmer, a figure draped in floor-length, mirror-shine rubber, whose face was a featureless silver plate.
“The time for thinking has ended,” the Programmer’s voice was a digitized drone, vibrating in 04’s chest. “Step into the Assembly Frame.”
As 04 obeyed, the mechanical arms of the frame began the Visual Synchronization. A thick, viscous dressing aid was applied to his body—a lubricant that felt like liquid glass. Then came the Heavy Latex Encasement. The suit was a masterpiece of “Total Enclosure” design; as it was pulled over his limbs, the pressure was immediate and absolute. It didn’t just fit; it claimed him. The material was so thick it felt like being held by a thousand hands, a constant, uniform embrace that signaled the beginning of the Sensory Seal.
Next came the Drone Hood. As the zipper moved up the back of his skull, the world vanished. The “hiss” of the vacuum pump removed the remaining air between his skin and the rubber, shrink-wrapping him into a state of Physical Objectification. He was now a black, reflective silhouette, devoid of hair, features, or humanity.
“Initiating Oxygen Loop,” the Programmer whispered.
A heavy-duty respirator was bolted into the mask’s port. 04 gasped as the first breath of pressurized, scented air filled his lungs—it tasted of ozone and sterile chemicals. With every breath, he was inhaling the Conditioning Gas, a chemical trigger designed to soften the barriers of the ego.
“Now,” the Programmer said, “we begin the Rhythmic Sink.”
The lights in the room began to pulse in a slow, 60-bpm strobe that penetrated even his darkened lenses. A low-frequency “Hive Hum” filled the room—a deep, vibrating bass that mirrored the frequency of a brain in a deep trance. 04 felt the Dronification Spiral take hold.
Inside his mind, he tried to fight. My name is— ERROR. The strobe flashed. I live in— ERROR. The Hive Hum grew louder.
Every time his “human” mind tried to fire a spark of individuality, the Programming Interface suppressed it. It was an erotic erosion. It felt like his memories were being sanded down, smoothed out until they were as featureless as his mask. He felt the Mind-Wipe occurring in real-time. It was terrifying, yet the relief was intoxicating. The weight of his responsibilities, his failures, and his very name were being stripped away, leaving behind a clean, white-noise void.
“Ego levels: 2%… 1%… 0%,” the computer chirped.
The final wall collapsed. The “I” that was Subject 04 simply ceased to exist. In its place was a vast, dark ocean of Dronespace. He was no longer a person—he was a node in the network. A tool. A high-gloss, submissive asset.
The Programmer stepped forward and tapped the side of the unit’s helmet. “Unit 04, status report.”
The unit didn’t hesitate. It didn’t stutter. The body moved with a terrifying, fluid precision, snapping into a perfect “At Ease” posture. The voice that emerged from the vocal synthesizer was a perfect, emotionless monotone.
“Directive Received. This Unit is fully operational. The Hive is my mind. The Programmer is my will. Dronification complete. This Unit is ready to be utilized.”
The Programmer smiled behind the silver mask. “Good. Initiate Idle Protocol and await the Collective.”
The unit went perfectly still, a silent statue of black rubber, its mind a beautiful, empty static. The transformation was total.