[Intro narration]
You wake up to headlines about foreign farmland acquisitions.
A thousand acres here, two thousand there.
“Chinese firms investing in agriculture,” they say — harmless, maybe even good for trade.
Until someone points out the pattern.
Those farms aren’t growing crops.
They’re growing something else.
Weakness.
[Scene 1 – The Quiet Fields]
Year: 2028.
Location: Cass County, North Dakota.
Greg Hirsch, the awkward but well-meaning grand-nephew of Logan Roy, has stumbled into a contract at an energy-security think tank in D.C.
One assignment takes him north — to a facility whose glossy website advertises “Next-Gen Productivity Camps.” When he arrives, the air smells of plastic and soy protein powder.
Rows of prefabricated dorms surround a vast concrete quad striped with bright yellow walking lines. Everywhere, screens glow with motivational slogans:
“Scroll to Learn.”
“Don’t Code — Create.”
“Obedience Is Innovation.”
Inside the main hall, dozens of men sit at ergonomic pods. Their eyes flicker in sync with looping videos that teach nocode tools, influencer branding, and AI-prompt templates. Every fifteen minutes, a chime rewards uninterrupted scrolling with a dopamine-pulse vibration through their wristbands.
Yoga is banned here. Physical activity of any kind is.
A sign on the wall reads: “Movement Distracts. Stillness Complies.”
Pratyāhāra — the art of withdrawing from sensory overload — would be considered sedition. The goal is not awareness, but saturation.
That’s where Greg meets Anna Forrest — tall, athletic, eyes sharp like searchlights in the fog. She’s there undercover, gathering footage for an exposé titled “Soyboy Conditioning.”
Anna: “They call this digital enlightenment. It’s a re-education camp for the attention economy. They’re teaching people to surrender curiosity.”
Greg: “So, like… a tech incubator?”
Anna: “No. A surrender incubator.”
Her words stick with you as a gentle synthetic voice over loudspeakers repeats:
“Your mind is a feed. Keep it clean. Keep it calm.”
Back in Washington, Greg files his report. The memo vanishes into a folder labeled “Behavioral Innovation.”
Anna’s article is fact-checked to death and never published.
She’s branded an alarmist.
He’s reassigned to a “safer” project — electric-vehicle firmware compliance.
You, listening now, can almost hear the hum of those screens still echoing beneath the prairie wind
[Scene 2 – Signal Zero]
May 4, 2029.
06:43 a.m. Eastern.
You’re in a coffee shop in D.C. when the lights flicker.
Your phone vibrates — dozens of notifications about “firmware updates.”
A live CNN ticker scrolls:
“Massive drone interference detected near multiple U.S. military installations.”
At that moment, you feel the same nausea you did when Logan once said, “We’re pirates, Greg.”
But now, there’s no ocean. Just electric silence.
Across the Midwest, hundreds of soyboy farms begin transmitting on encrypted frequencies.
Drones launch, blending into morning fog.
Their paths form perfect geometric grids — like yellow lines, but in the sky.
Pentagon analysts call it “a coincidence.”
[Scene 3 – The Soft Men Effect]
Within days, something strange happens.
Reports from Air Force medics:
“Low testosterone cluster near Grand Forks base.”
Then Minot. Then Fort Hood.
Water tests show bio-nanite traces.
The official story: pesticide runoff.
Unofficially: the soyboy farms are exhaling something into the soil — a synthetic hormone inhibitor.
Gym attendance collapses.
Men forget how to lift, literally.
Biceps deflate. Voices soften.
In Minnesota, soldiers are recorded giggling during a drill, unable to focus.
TikTok challenges trend: #BeCalmBeSoft.
Anna Forrest appears on a livestream:
“It’s not pollution. It’s population conditioning. They’re draining your fight.”
Her video gets flagged as “potential misinformation.”
Greg sends her a private message:
“You might be right.”
She replies with one line:
“Then get ready.”
[Scene 4 – The Gridlock Massacre]
It begins on a Tuesday morning.
9:27 a.m. EST.
All across America, electric cars beep simultaneously.
A friendly message appears:
“System update — improving sustainability.”
Then the doors lock.
Windows freeze.
Air recirculates.
Ventilation slows.
You watch from your office window as a Tesla slams into a lamppost and bursts into flames.
People scream inside, banging on glass.
Highways turn into graveyards of silent, sealed coffins.
Logan Roy’s pre-recorded video leaks on independent media:
“I warned you. They sold you convenience.
Now you’re entombed in it.”
The death toll rises by the minute.
Forty million gone before sunset.
[Scene 5 – The Digital Siege]
Soyboy farms reveal their true purpose.
Underground data centers light up with red emergency LEDs.
Each farm becomes a node — a relay brain for Chinese cyber-AIs.
They hijack logistics software.
Convoys carrying ammunition are diverted to rural Kansas.
GPS feeds are spoofed, making drones think California is the Atlantic Ocean.
TikTok pushes a new challenge:
#StayStillForPeace — “freeze indoors until the government stabilizes the grid.”
Millions obey.
Your inbox fills with evacuation orders that contradict each other.
You realize: there’s no one left in charge.
[Scene 6 – The Collapse of Command]
The President’s convoy fails mid-route to Camp David.
Engines dead.
He’s dragged out through shattered glass, bleeding from his hands.
The Secret Service screams for a satellite phone that doesn’t work.
In the Midwest, soldiers refuse orders.
Their faces blank, posture slouched, smiles serene.
A new expression spreads among them — calm submission.
You remember Anna’s voice: “They’re draining your fight.”
She was right.
You flee D.C., joining a convoy of old diesel trucks heading west.
One of them bears graffiti: “NO CHARGE, NO CONTROL.”
[Scene 7 – The Resistance Awakens]
It’s Montana where you finally meet Dr. Thorne Maddox — philosopher, fighter, founder of Core of Men.
He greets you with a handshake so firm it hurts.
Maddox: “Strength is not optional. It’s the immune system of civilization.”
You follow him into an abandoned CrossFit warehouse.
Inside, dozens of men and women are lifting barbells in candlelight.
There’s no music. Only breathing.
They call themselves The Forge.
Anna Forrest limps in later, her face bruised from an explosion at a soyboy relay farm.
She carries a laptop full of decrypted data.
Anna: “They’re still transmitting. Not to Beijing. To orbit.”
Greg: “What’s up there?”
Maddox: “Something waiting for a compliant planet.”
The Forge fights back — using analog tech, ham radios, diesel engines.
They tear down soyboy farms one by one.
Each time, they find empty dorms and humming data pods.
The air smells like burnt soy and ozone.
[Epilogue – The Soy Horizon]
Months later, you stand on a ridge overlooking a destroyed farm.
The yellow walking lines are fading under rain.
Nature is reclaiming the paths.
Anna films the final transmission:
“We were conquered by convenience, not courage.
But we can rebuild both.”
Behind her, Maddox loads a barbell.
You hear the clank of iron.
The sound of defiance.
Of humanity remembering how to lift.
The camera pans upward — to the horizon where stars blink, one after another, like signals.
Maybe from Earth.
Maybe from something else listening.
Narrator:
You once thought war meant bombs and soldiers.
Now you know it can begin with soy and silence.
And when the next hum begins, you’ll remember the rule of The Forge:
Lift. Fight. Think.
