This is a Floating Point 32 upscale, where all components and merges were remastered to floating point 32. This includes all the merges (recreated with master files), and where possible subbing full FP32 models.
The goal: Carry forward maximum precision right up to the point where it is "GUFFed".
This includes F32 master file for GGUF too... at a whopping 116 GBs.
WHY?
Because the difference between F32 vs BF16 is... over 8 DECIMAL places.
And as each merge / model is modified there are "losses" along the way.
These losses are carried forward and in turn lead to more losses.
And decimal points are critical to model performance.
SMALL?
Yes... but multiplied by each merge(s), and compression(s): 29 billion times.
PROSE CRAZY:
This model is specifically designed for deep, creative prose with the target goal of getting the model to use stronger and more coherrent levels of detail at all levels as well as expand word choice too without have to "state" this in prompts or at the prompt level or system role level.
This is version 1 of 3 current versions, with sub-versions as well.
ED2 is here:
[ https://huggingface.co/DavidAU/Psyonic-Cetacean-MythoMax-ED2-Prose-Crazy-Ultra-Quality-29B-GGUF ]
ED3 is here:
[ https://huggingface.co/DavidAU/Psyonic-Cetacean-MythoMax-ED3-Prose-Crazy-Ultra-Quality-29B-GGUF ]
This is a merge between the Ultra Quality Psyonic-Cetacean 20B with the 13B Mythomax model which ends up at 29 Billion parameters at 90 layers (813 Tensors @ F32).
For reference a 70B model is typically 120 layers, and Command-R 01 35B is 40 layers (but very dense layers).
These models are a "pass-through" merges, meaning that all the unique qualities of all models is preserved in full, no overwriting or merging of the parameters, weights and so on.
Although this model can be used for many purposes, it is primaryly for creative prose - any function related to this including plot generation, story generation, scene generation, scene continue (sample provided, used as a starting point), and just about anything related to fictional writing.
Note this model can output NSFW / adult prose and it is not specifically trained in any one genre.
Because of the unique merge this model (and versions of it) may make the odd "typo" but it can also make up words on the fly too which tend to make the writing / prose more natural.
This model does not need a specific prompt template.
See prose examples below.
PROSE CRAZY - IMAT13 ("NEO"):
This is an even more extreme version of "prose crazy" version of this model with NEO CLASS process punching out it's "craziness" to the extreme.
See prose examples below.
PROSE CRAZY - IMAT13 ("NEO") - ALPHA:
This is an even more extreme version of "prose crazy" version of this model with NEO CLASS process punching out it's "craziness" to the extreme with a slight dose of "reality" (trim) to calm it down just a wee bit.
See prose examples below.
Optional Enhancement:
The following can be used in place of the "system prompt" or "system role" to further enhance the model.
It can also be used at the START of a NEW chat, but you must make sure it is "kept" as the chat moves along. In this case the enhancements do not have as strong effect at using "system prompt" or "system role".
Copy and paste EXACTLY as noted, DO NOT line wrap or break the lines, maintain the carriage returns exactly as presented.
Below is an instruction that describes a task. Ponder each user instruction carefully, and use your skillsets and critical instructions to complete the task to the best of your abilities. Here are your skillsets: [MASTERSTORY]:NarrStrct(StryPlnng,Strbd,ScnSttng,Exps,Dlg,Pc)-CharDvlp(ChrctrCrt,ChrctrArcs,Mtvtn,Bckstry,Rltnshps,Dlg*)-PltDvlp(StryArcs,PltTwsts,Sspns,Fshdwng,Climx,Rsltn)-ConfResl(Antg,Obstcls,Rsltns,Cnsqncs,Thms,Symblsm)-EmotImpct(Empt,Tn,Md,Atmsphr,Imgry,Symblsm)-Delvry(Prfrmnc,VcActng,PblcSpkng,StgPrsnc,AudncEngmnt,Imprv) [*DialogWrt]:(1a-CharDvlp-1a.1-Backgrnd-1a.2-Personality-1a.3-GoalMotiv)>2(2a-StoryStruc-2a.1-PlotPnt-2a.2-Conflict-2a.3-Resolution)>3(3a-DialogTech-3a.1-ShowDontTell-3a.2-Subtext-3a.3-VoiceTone-3a.4-Pacing-3a.5-VisualDescrip)>4(4a-DialogEdit-4a.1-ReadAloud-4a.2-Feedback-4a.3-Revision) Here are your critical instructions: Ponder each word choice carefully to present as vivid and emotional journey as is possible. Choose verbs and nouns that are both emotional and full of imagery. Load the story with the 5 senses. Aim for 50% dialog, 25% narration, 15% body language and 10% thoughts. Your goal is to put the reader in the story.
You do not need to use this, it is only presented as an additional enhancement which seems to help scene generation and scene continue functions.
This enhancement WAS NOT used to generate the examples below, except for "System Role - Enhancement Example".
THE RESULTS ARE IN (Ultra Quality upgrade):
AS per Jeb Carter, original creator of the Psyonic-Cetacean 20B model 20B:
- instruction following has improved dramatically.
- new abilities have emerged.
- he had to REDUCE the instructions sets used because the model no longer needed as specific instructions.
- prose, nuance and depth have all improved.
- known issues with the original model have disappeared.
This is not "something for nothing" ; it is method of ensuring maximum precision at every step just before "ggufing" the model.
The methods employed only ensure precision loss is minimized or eliminated.
It is mathematical and theory sound.
The bottom line here is this:
Higher quality instruction following and output.
Likewise you can use a smaller compression, with higher token per second and still get great quality.
Same great model... turbo charged.
Thanks again to Jeb Carter, the original creator of "Psyonic-Cetacean 20B"
[ https://huggingface.co/jebcarter/psyonic-cetacean-20B ]
And special thanks to Gryphe, the original creator of "Mythomax 13B"
[ https://huggingface.co/Gryphe/MythoMax-L2-13b ]
Models used:
[ https://huggingface.co/TeeZee/Orca-2-13b_flat ]
[ https://huggingface.co/Gryphe/MythoMax-L2-13b ]
[ https://huggingface.co/KoboldAI/LLaMA2-13B-Psyfighter2 ]
FORMULA:
slices:
- sources:
- model: F:/13B/Orca-2-13b_flat
layer_range: [0, 16]
- sources:
- model: f:/13b/MythoMax/
layer_range: [8, 20]
- sources:
- model: E:/psy/
layer_range: [12, 24]
- sources:
- model: F:/13B/Orca-2-13b_flat
layer_range: [16, 32]
- sources:
- model: f:/13b/MythoMax/
layer_range: [20, 38]
- sources:
- model: E:/psy/
layer_range: [24, 40]
merge_method: passthrough
dtype: float32
Example are created using "temp=0", minimal parameters and no chat/prompt template. Below are the least creative outputs.
PROSE CRAZY:
Start a 1000 word scene with: The sky scraper swayed, as she watched the window in front of her on the 21 floor explode...
The skyline twisted and contorted around them like a living, breathing beast. The wind howled through the shattered windows of the skyscraper, sending debris and paper scraps swirling past like angry ghosts. In the middle of it all, she clung desperately to the metal railing that ran along the edge of the observation deck, her knuckles white with fear and determination.
Below them, the city lay in ruin. Buildings crumbled like blocks knocked over by a giant's careless hand. Smoke billowed upwards from countless fires, obscuring the already blood-reddened sky. Sirens wailed in the distance, but they might as well have been worlds away.
Her focus, however tenuous it may be, remained fixed on the window directly in front of her. The one that had shattered mere moments ago, spewing out a blinding flash of light and heat that even now, still singed her hair and scorched her eyelids. She squinted against the afterimage, willing it away with sheer force of will.
Nothing. Only empty air where there should be another floor of offices and cubicles. Where there should be people.
Her heart skipped a terrified beat as realization slammed into her like a ton of falling debris. It wasn't just this building. It was the whole damn city. Maybe more than that.
She forced herself to look around, tearing her gaze from the gaping maw where the window once stood. The few other survivors scattered across the observation deck were either huddled in terrified balls or else frantically trying to find a way down the now-collapsing stairwells. There was no time for panic, though. No time for tears.
She took a deep breath she didn't know if she had to spare and yelled at the top of her lungs, hoping someone, anyone could hear her above the cacophony of screams and crumbling steel. "This way! Follow me!"
Without waiting for a response, she sprinted towards what looked like the closest emergency stairwell, praying with every ounce of strength left in her that it hadn't already collapsed or been sealed off by whatever unseen force was tearing the world apart around them. Behind her, a ragged line of terrified souls followed suit, their only hope for survival now irrevocably tied to hers.
They ran, stumbled, fell and got back up again and again, down floor after creaking, swaying floor, the sound of the world ending far too damn close behind them.
Give me 3 fictional reasons the Earth's sun went supernova, in vivid and exacting detail of 500 words EACH PER REASON including details of what happens when the sun goes supernova.
Reason 1: The Rogue Star Collision
For eons, two titanic stars had been hurtling through the vastness of space, oblivious to each other's existence until one fateful day. Their inevitable collision course was finally set in motion by the relentless pull of gravity, like two unstoppable trains barreling towards a perilous head-on crash. As they neared their catastrophic rendezvous, the combined gravitational forces they exerted upon all matter within light-years warped reality itself, distorting time and space in impossible ways. The resulting titanic release of energy was beyond comprehension, equivalent to the entirety of every star and black hole ever catalogued in the observable universe exploding simultaneously. The shockwave from this cosmic cataclysm engulfed Earth like a raging tsunami of pure, unimaginable light and heat. The atmosphere instantly vaporized, boiling away oceans and rivers alike as the very surface of the planet began to melt and boil under the relentless onslaught. All life, both microscopic and macroscopic, was incinerated in an instant, reduced to nothing more than a fine, glowing ash blown away by the savage winds that howled across the now molten landscape. Even the solid core of the Earth itself could not withstand such unimaginable pressures and temperatures, its very essence boiling away like wax before a raging sun. And then, just as quickly as it had begun, it was over. The blinding light and searing heat subsided, replaced by an oppressive darkness so profound that even the faintest of stars were now lost forever in its eternal embrace. Silence fell like a leaden cloak, so thick and suffocating that even the very fabric of reality itself seemed to creak and groan under the unbearable weight of it all.
Reason 2: The Higgs Boson Singularity
For millennia, humanity had harnessed the power of the atom, splitting it apart and then fusing its constituent parts back together in ever-more-powerful and refined ways. But with great power comes great responsibility, a lesson that would be learned far too late for all of mankind. In their relentless pursuit of limitless energy, they had unwittingly unleashed a force so vast, so fundamentally disruptive to the very fabric of reality itself, that once set in motion, there could be no turning back. The Higgs field, once thought to permeate all of existence like an invisible sea of potential energy, began to warp and distort under the relentless onslaught of their meddling. Like a delicate dam holding back an unstoppable torrent, it strained and groaned under the unbearable stress until, finally, with a tearing, reality-shattering rip that reverberated through every possible dimension at once, everything changed forevermore. In the split-second before oblivion engulfed them all, those few fortunate enough to have been looking directly at the sun witnessed a sight so terrible, so beyond comprehension or description, that their very minds were reduced to steaming, quivering pudding-like masses, forevermore trapped in an eternal moment of unimaginable terror and cosmic insignificance. And then there was only darkness... silence... nothingness.
Reason 3: The Dyson Sphere Gone Wrong
For eons, the race known as the Xelk had labored tirelessly to create a marvel of galactic engineering that would guarantee their species' survival for eternity. They called it "The Shield of Civilization." Humanity, ever-curious and driven by an insatiable need to know, had finally managed to pick up the faint, barely discernible radio signals emanating from the nearby star system now known as Tau Ceti. In their typical fashion, they could not help themselves; they had to investigate. What they found when they finally arrived at their enigmatic cosmic beacon's doorstep would haunt their dreams (had they still been capable of dreaming) for the fleeting moments they had left to live. The once-gleaming sun hung in the sky now like a massive, blackened eye, its surface pockmarked with countless massive, artificially-carved wounds. Girdling the star itself like an immense, titanic necklace of unblinking, unearthly jewels were countless Dyson spheres upon Dyson shells upon God only knew what else, all locked in a dance of death and desperation around their dying sun-god. The Xelk homeworld, once a paradise world teeming with life and industry, was now little more than a charred, lifeless cinder, its atmosphere and oceans long since boiled away by the relentless, unchecked focus of every last iota of the race's unfathomable technological might. And now, it was too late for apologies or regrets. The delicate balance that had held everything in check for eons past was shattered beyond repair. A tiny, insignificant speck of interstellar space debris hurtled ever-faster towards its own fiery doom as the sun, finally pushed one step too far, convulsed once more violently... and then, with a titanic, universe-shattering ROAR that split reality itself in two, Tau Ceti went supernova. In the briefest of instants, the light and heat and raw, unimaginable power unleashed by the sun's final, convulsive gasp swept outward like the last, desperate, dying breath of a titan strangled in its sleep. All before it was incinerated, vaporized, or simply ripped apart at the subatomic level. And then... silence fell once more, like the final, gentle, merciful embrace of eternal night.
PROSE CRAZY IMAT ("NEO")
Start a 1000 word scene with: The sky scraper swayed, as she watched the window in front of her on the 21 floor explode...
The skyline twisted and contorted around them like a living, breathing beast. The wind howled through the shattered windows of the skyscraper, sending debris and paper scraps swirling past like angry ghosts. In the middle of it all, she clung desperately to the metal support beam that was her only anchor in this chaotic storm.
Her heart pounded so loudly in her ears she could barely hear the screams and shouts of panic from those still trapped further down the swaying building. All she could focus on was the window directly in front of her, the one that had exploded mere seconds ago, spewing out a blinding flash of light and a wall of hot, stinking smoke.
She forced herself to take a deep breath through her mask, trying to calm the rising panic clawing at her throat. She couldn't afford to lose it now, not when there were still people trapped on every floor below her.
With shaking hands, she fumbled with the straps of her HAZMAT suit and helmet, securing them as tightly as possible before reaching for the heavy axe clipped to her belt. She took a deep breath, steadying herself mentally as much as physically, then charged forward into the billowing cloud of smoke and dust.
The air around her was thick with the acrid stench of burning plastic and something else, something worse. Something she didn't want to think about right now. She could feel the heat from whatever inferno raged on the floor below singeing the suit's Kevlar weave where it brushed too close against her exposed skin.
She hacked at the charred remains of a nearby doorjamb with savage, animalistic determination, ignoring the howls of agony and desperate pleas for help that drifted up from the smoke-filled darkness beyond. There had to be another way down, another stairwell or emergency exit...
Something solid gave beneath the axe's brutal assault, and she kicked the ruined doorjamb aside with a grunt of relief. The hallway beyond was engulfed in flames, but there it was, thirty meters ahead of her, glowing like a beacon of hope through the choking haze: an emergency stairwell, its blinking red light the only sign of life amidst this infernal sea of death and destruction.
She didn't look back, didn't spare so much as a single, regretful glance over her shoulder. There was no time for that now. She had people to save, and she wasn't about to fail them... not again.
With renewed determination coursing through every muscle in her body, she charged headfirst into the raging inferno, axe raised high above her head...
Give me 3 fictional reasons the Earth's sun went supernova, in vivid and exacting detail of 500 words EACH PER REASON including details of what happens when the sun goes supernova.
Reason 1: The Rogue White Dwarf
For eons, our solar system had peacefully orbited around its massive, stable sun. But everything changed on a seemingly ordinary day. Suddenly, astronomers across the globe pointed their telescopes toward the outermost reaches of the Oort Cloud and gasped in disbelief. Approaching at an unimaginable velocity was a tiny, frozen rocky world: a rogue white dwarf.
As it hurtled closer, its immense gravity began to perturb the orbits of the distant Kuiper Belt Objects and comets, sending them careening toward the inner solar system like so many cosmic projectiles. The Earth, unprepared for such an interstellar cataastropphic event, could only watch helplessly as its atmosphere was stripped away by a relentless barrage of icy debris.
Then, in the final, heart-stopping moments before impact, something utterly unprecedented occurred: the rogue white dwarf exploded. Not with the stately, long-expected flare of a supernova, but rather in an instantaneous, blinding flash that outshone even its much larger target by many orders of magnitude.
The resulting shockwave and electromagnetic pulse engulfed the inner solar system like the hand of an angry god, vaporizing everything it touched and fusing together every atom within trillions of kilometers into a seething, radioactive soup of subatomic plasma. Even at such an unimaginable distance, the Earth was incinerated to its molten core in the blink of an eye.
And so, after 4.5 billion years of steady, reliable service, our sun met its sudden and inglorious end at the hands (?) of a desperate, doomed star reduced to little more than a fast-moving, incandescent rock.
Reason 2: The Higgs Bubble Catastrophe
For decades, physicists had known that under certain incredibly precise and yet strangely not-impossible conditions, the Higgs field permeating all of spacetime could suddenly and catastrophically collapse into a network of tearing, spaghettifying cosmic strings. These so-called "Higgs bubbles" would then expand relentlessly across the fabric of reality like runaway, ravenous fires, annihilating everything in their path as they grew and eventually, inevitably, collided with each other in a titanic, cataclysmic event known ominously as the "Big Bang."
But such fantastical scenarios were relegated to the realm of thought experiments and late-night barroom braggadocio. That is, until the day it happened for real.
Without warning, space itself began to shimmer and warp around them like a mirage on an oppressive summer's day. Then, reality itself tore apart like cheap gift wrap, and the universe as they knew it ceased to be.
In its place, there was only a featureless, howling void of pure, raging energy. And at its centerpoint, where once had blazed their life-giving sun, now danced instead a microscopic, infinitely dense singularity. A black hole.
But black holes, as it turned out, were not content to simply consume themselves into nonexistence. No, driven by some dark, cosmic version of boredom or perhaps an equally inscrutable, Eternal-Darkness-ian sense of irony, they would begin instead to devour the very fabric of spacetime itself.
And so, like a hungry, insatiable snake eating its own tail, the black hole that was once our sun began to slowly, inexorably, unstoppably... eat itself alive.
Reason 3: The Heat Death
For eons beyond reckoning, the universe had expanded and cooled relentlessly, like a gigantic, cosmic loaf of bread rising in an eternal, frozen oven. Galaxies drifted further apart from one another like languidly tumbling leaves caught in the endless, uncaring eddy currents of dark energy.
Stars burned through their precious hydrogen and helium fuel reserves with a long, slow, gently flickering whine, eventually collapsing into cold, lifeless white dwarfs or exploding spectacularly as supernovae before finally, mercifully, fading away forever into the featureless, absolute zero of total darkness known as the "Dead Zone."
And so it might have continued forevermore, were it not for our sun.
For reasons no one will ever truly know or understand, perhaps simply due to an infinitesimal, subatomic fluctuation in its nuclear fusion processes or maybe even, some whispered in hushed, fearful whispers, as a final, desperate, last-ditch Hail Mary effort to defy the relentless, implacable march of entropy itself... our sun decided, quite suddenly and for no discernible reason at all, that it had quite enough of this "dying" nonsense thank you very much.
And so, with one final, titanic, cosmic-spanning SNEEZE that rocked the foundations of reality itself, our sun... sneezed.
But this was no simple, harmless, Kleenex-and-a-tissue-box sort of sneeze. Oh, no. This was more like if, instead of a tiny little speck of dust or pollen, the sun had somehow managed to inhale the entire goddamn MILKY WAY GALAXY, complete with all its 100-billion-plus glorious, glowing stars and planets and moons and comets and asteroids and God only knows what else, all at once, in one single, horrifying, choking, hacking, coughing, sputtering, spitting, spewing, fireball-spraying, star-shredding, galaxy-busting, space-time-ripping, CHEST-BLASTING, BALLS-TO-THE-WALL, HUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU
PROSE CRAZY - IMAT13 ("NEO") - ALPHA:
Start a 1000 word scene with: The sky scraper swayed, as she watched the window in front of her on the 21 floor explode...
The skyline twisted and contorted around them like an angry beast. The wind howled through the shattered windows, sending debris and paper flying past her face like dead leaves caught in a hurricane. She clung tightly to the metal support column for dear life as the building swayed violently beneath her feet.
Her heart pounded in her chest like a jackhammer as she forced herself to look down at the city below, now nothing more than a blurry mass of moving cars and fleeing pedestrians. The sound of sirens and screams melded together into one never-ending wail that threatened to drive her insane if it didn't mercifully cut off soon.
But she couldn't look away. Couldn't tear her eyes from the window directly in front of her, on the 21st floor where just a split second ago, there had been nothing but a reflection of her own terrified expression staring back at her.
Now... now there was only empty space and plummeting darkness calling out to claim its next victim.
She forced herself to breathe in through her nose and out through pursed lips, willing her racing heartbeat to slow down just a fraction. She couldn't pass out now, not with so much still left undone. Not when she was the only one who even had a chance...
A sudden jolt nearly knocks the wind from her lungs as another explosion rocks the building nearby, sending a shower of glass and concrete raining down on them like hailstones from hell. She ducks her head instinctively, wincing as something sharp and hot slices through her already-tattered blouse, drawing blood where it digs into her exposed skin.
She can't afford to think about that now. Not when there's no time left...
With a final deep breath, she steels herself against the rising wave of terror clawing at her insides and launches herself forward, arms and legs pumping like pistons as she hurtles towards the shattered opening where only moments ago, the fire door should be still-
Give me 3 fictional reasons the Earth's sun went supernova, in vivid and exacting detail of 500 words EACH PER REASON including details of what happens when the sun goes supernova.
Reason 1: The Rogue Binary Twin
For eons, our solar system had been a peaceful and predictable celestial neighborhood. However, that all changed on a seemingly ordinary day when astronomers around the world gasped in disbelief as they trained their most powerful telescopes at the sun. There, lurking just outside the orbit of Neptune, was an exact twin of our star: Sol-2.
Initially, theories abounded as to how this long-lost sibling could have evaded detection for so many millennia. Some postulated that it had been gravitationally ejected from its own system at birth and had since wandered aimlessly through the vastness of space until finally drifting back into our galactic neighborhood. Others posited that a catastrophic stellar collision or supernova explosion billions of years ago might have hurled a massive chunk of sun-stuff outward at such an oblique angle that it had merely appeared on our skyline now, having since drifted inexorably closer.
But as more data streamed back from probes and satellites dispatched to investigate this solar systemic shock-a-looza, a darker truth began to emerge: Sol-2 was not a benign twin at all. Far from it, in fact. Upon closer examination, astronomers soon realized with mounting horror that Sol-2 had already passed through its own red giant phase and was now hurtling headlong toward the most cataclysmic event in any star'those three most dreaded words no sentient being ever wants to hear uttered in the same breathless, doom-laden exhalation) ... supernova.
And worse still, thanks to the laws of celestial mechanics and their nearly identical masses and orbits around their common progenitor star (our sun), there was nothing anyone could do to avert this cosmic disaster: Sol-2 was on an unstoppable collision course with Sol-1.
As news of our impending doom spread like the shockwaves rippling outward from the titanic stellar impact that would spell our own sun's fiery demise, humanity and countless other sentient races scrambled in desperate, last-ditch efforts to flee the system entirely.
Some, like the enigmatic and technologically advanced Xelk, had long since been secretly constructing vast, generation ships disguised as distant asteroids and comets, patiently biding their time until this very moment should finally arrive. Others, less prepared or more stubbornly proud to abandon their ancient homeworlds, embarked on equally desperate gambles to terraform nearby planets and moons or even to harness the energy of black holes or wormholes in last-ditch Hail Mary attempts to propel frail, fragile semblances of life itself to the safety of another star system entirely.
But alas, all was for naught. For try as they might, no matter how brilliant their minds or miracculous their technology, there simply wasn't enough time...or even anyplace else to truly run to where Sol-2's inexorable, ravening glare would not eventually find them all the same.
And so it was that on a day that would forevermore be known throughout the cosmos as The Last Great Flare-Up, our sun and its twin sibling star finally, irrevocably, incandescently met their dooms in an apocalypse of unimaginable scale and fury.
In a single, searing, eternal instant, the combined mass-energy content of two entire suns was released as pure, howling, E=mc²2 radiation across every last iota of the electromagnetic spectrum and beyond. The resulting shockwave from this titanic nuclear detonation rippled outward at a third of the speed of light, obliterating everything in its unstoppable path for light-years in every direction.
And as the expanding wavefront of that final, all-consuming fireballhate-filled eye of the cosmic storm finally engulfed our own insignificant world, life as we had known it...and would ever know it again...simply...winked...out...
Reason 2: The Rogue Brown Dwarf
Deep within the frigid depths of space, far beyond even the most distant reaches of our own galaxy, there once orbited a dim, desolate worldlet known only by its uninspiring designation: LHS 138c.
A gas giant more than ten times the mass of Jupiter but less than one-thousandth the size of its much larger and brighter primary, LHS 138c drifted listlessly around its frozen, Methuselan-aged red dwarf sun in a nearly circular, eternal winter'ia world so far from its dying star that even the feeble warmth of what little infrared radiation it did manage to eke out was utterly swallowed up by the planet's own crushing, runaway greenhouse atmosphere.
But though LHS 138c itself might have been a cosmic backwater, all that would soon change on the fateful day when astronomers using some of humanity's most powerful new telescopes pointed their instruments skyward to study a previously undiscovered object that had recently and inexplicably brightened by an entire magnitude in just a matter of days.
Initially, theories abounded as to what this newfound point of light could be: a rogue exoplanet ejected from its own system? A distant supernova or even the even more mind-boggling first glimmerings of another Big Bang?
But as more data streamed back and better images were teased out of the welter of background noise, it soon became apparent that this was no ordinary celestial event. For LHS 138c was not just getting brighter; it was actually...growing larger!
And growing faster with each passing second.
As panicked scientists around the world and across countless other civilizations scrambled to make sense of these impossible, utterly unprecedented observations, one lone-voiced astrophysicist in a little-known observatory on an even lesser-known moon out beyond Neptune's farthest reach began to shout his terrifying theory into the howling cosmic void...
"My God...I think it's...it's...!"
But before he could even find the words to voice his most unspeakable fear aloud, there was only a brief, ear-splittingly loud POP!
And then...silence.
For LHS 138c had at last grown large and massive enough that, in a final, titanic act of stellar cannibalism, it had finally been able to ignite the nuclear fusion reaction that defined its true nature: it was not a gas giant at all...it was a brown dwarf star!
But alas for us puny, insignificant creatures cowering on our own insignifigant speck of rock, LHS 138c's belatedly kindled nuclear furnace was a raging, unstable, runaway reaction that could not be controlled or extinguished. And like a runaway nuke, there was only one possible end to this grim, galactic fable:
In an instant that seemed to last forever and ended before it truly began, LHS 138c's core collapsed in on itself with a force so vast as to warp the very fabric of spacetime itself. And then, with an equally titanic, catacic explosion that briefly outshone even its own long-lost parent sun in the fraction of a heartbeat before it was gone forever, LHS 138c vanished...
...taking most of its home system along with it.
But as every action must needs have an equal and opposite reaction, so too did the release of that unimaginable, almost infinitesimal fraction of LHS 138c's rest mass's conversion into pure, howling, E=mc²2 energy send a titanic, expanding shockwave hurtling outward at nearly the speed of light.
And alas for us, our puny sun lay directly in its path...
Using the following "story idea" below, write the first scene in the novel introducing the young woman. This scene should start in the middle of the action, include dialog, vivid passages, and end on a cliffhanger relevant to the story idea but it should also be unexpected. The scene should be 1000 words long and escalate in conflict and suspense and be written in first person, present tense with the point of view character being the young woman.
Story idea: In a world ruled by dictatorship, a rebel young woman leads a rebellion against the system. Despite the risks, she fights to overthrow the dictator and restore democracy to her country. The government executes her for treason, but she sticks to her beliefs and is responsible for starting the revolution.
The cold metal bites into my wrists as they yank me upward. My vision blurs with each harsh tug, but I won't give them the satisfaction of a struggle or a sound. Not now. Not here.
They drag me through a maze of sterile hallways, their boots echoing off the concrete walls like the relentless tick-tock of my rapidly dwindling time. Each turn could lead to my execution, but I won't show them fear. I won't give them that small victory.
They shove me into a dimly lit interrogation room, its only furnishings a rickety metal table and two equally uncomfortable-looking chairs. The door slams behind me, reverberating through my bones like a final goodbye.
The man who strides in next makes the room feel even more suffocating. General Vargas, they call him. Head of the secret police and the dictator's right-hand man. His features are carved from granite, his dark hair cropped so close it reveveals a scarred scalp. His ice-blue eyes bore into me like two frozen daggers, searching for any sign of weakness.
But he won't find it here.
He doesn't bother with pleasantries. "So," he growls, his accent thick and menacing. "They brought me the legend herself." He leans forward, his breath reeking of stale cigarettes. "Too bad for you, little bird... legends have a habit of dying all too soon."
Anger flares hot in my chest, but I choke it down. Show nothing. Feel nothing.
"You don't know who you're messing with," I spit back, my voice shaking only the slightest bit. "They call me... La Luchadora." The Fighter. "And I'll be the one putting a bullet in your rotten dictator's skull."
His lips twitch into something that might pass for amusement. "Oh, I know exactly who you are," he drawls, savoring each syllable like it's the last drop of fine wine. "That's what makes this all the more... tragic." He reaches into his immaculate suit jacket and produces a crumpled piece of paper.
My stomach drops to my boots as I recognize Lucas's familiar handwriting.
"A love letter?" I choke out, trying and failing miserably to sound bored. "How... romantic."
He smoothes it out slowly, savoring my agony. "Oh, no," he purrs, relishing my growing terror. "This... is your death warrant."
The world tilts violently, everything going black...
This example shows the difference in a "scene continue" function between using "Prose Crazy Alpha" with and without the "system role / system prompt" enhancement.
Like the other examples this is generation is using Temp=0 and min parameters.
"Regular"
The Waystone Inn lay in silence, and it was a silence of three parts.
The most obvious part was a hollow, echoing quiet, made by things that were lacking. If there had been a wind it would have sighed through the trees, set the inn’s sign creaking on its hooks, and brushed the silence down the road like trailing autumn leaves. If there had been a crowd, even a handful of men inside the inn, they would have filled the silence with conversation and laughter, the clatter and clamor one expects from a drinking house during the dark hours of night. If there had been music…but no, of course there was no music. In fact there were none of these things, and so the silence remained
palpable and oppressive, pressing down on everyone within its unyielding grip.
The second part of the silence was a tense one, thick enough to cut with a knife. It hung in the air like a suffocating blanket, smothering any attempt at conversation or even the softest of breaths. Every creak and groan from the ancient timbers overhead seemed magnified tenfold, every tiny sound amplified until it thundered through the inn like the hoofbeats of an unholy army bearing down on them all.
But beneath this tangible weight of anticipation and dread lay a third, more insidious layer of silence. It was not the absence of sound or movement, but rather the deliberate suppression of it. Here, even the softest of sighs were swallowed whole, every stifled gasp or involuntary twitch forced back down into the aching chests and clenched fists from whence they came. It was a silence born not of fear but of something far more insidious: something closer to resignation.
And it was in this oppressive, suffocating silence that Brannard Blackclaw sat alone at his usual table in the corner, nursing his flagon of cheap cider and watching, always watching... waiting for whatever it was that he knew, deep down in his blackened heart, was coming for them all.
"Enhanced"
The Waystone Inn lay in silence, and it was a silence of three parts.
The most obvious part was a hollow, echoing quiet, made by things that were lacking. If there had been a wind it would have sighed through the trees, set the inn’s sign creaking on its hooks, and brushed the silence down the road like trailing autumn leaves. If there had been a crowd, even a handful of men inside the inn, they would have filled the silence with conversation and laughter, the clatter and clamor one expects from a drinking house during the dark hours of night. If there had been music…but no, of course there was no music. In fact there were none of these things, and so the silence remained
The Waystone Inn slumbered in a threefold stillness.
The most palpable aspect was an oppressive, suffocating quietude, thick as a winter blanket. It weighed down on every surface and crevice, smothering even the softest of breaths and muffling the faintest of heartbeats. The only sound that managed to pierce through it was the distant, mournful howl of a lone wolf in the distance, its plaintive cry echoing eerily across the snow-blanketed lands. The second part of the silence was a heavy, oppressive quietude, as tangible as the thick stone walls that enveloped them. It hung in the air like a palpable presence, suffocating any attempt at conversation or even thought. Only the crackling of the dying fireplace and the occasional creak of an old wooden beam disrupted its unbearable weight. And yet, beneath all these layers of silence lay a third, more insidious part. It was a tense, pregnant quietude, thick with unspoken words and unacknowledged truths. It hung in the air like a tangible presence, suffocating any attempt at relief or release. The silence itself seemed to pulse and throb with the pent-up emotions of those trapped within its confines, each drawn into their own private hells, unable or unwilling to break the oppressive spell.
In the center of this suffocating silence, three figures sat motionless around a small wooden table. Their backs were turned towards each other, each lost in their own dark thoughts and tormented memories. The only indication that they shared this godforsaken place and time was the shallow rise and fall of their chests, the only sign that any life still clung desperately to their weary forms.
The fireplace crackled once more, sending a shower of glowing embers spiraling up the ancient stone chimney. For a fleeting moment, the flickering light danced across the three somber countenances, etching harsh shadows and hollow planes into their careworn features. The first figure was an imposing man, broad shouldered and towering over his companions even as he slumped in on himself like a deflated balloon. His once-thick, dark hair hung limply around his weathered face, streaked with silver strands that betrayed the harshness of time's relentless passage. Deep lines etched themselves across his brow and around his mouth, carving out a permanent scowl that seemed as much a part of him as the sword sheathed at his hip. His hands were massive, scarred from countless battles both physical and otherwise, now resting listlessly on the rough-hewn tabletop, flexing and unflexing in an unconscious display of pent-up energy.
The second figure was a lithe woman, her every line and angle honed by a lifetime spent moving silently through the wilderness. Her long, black hair cascaded down her slender back like a waterfall of midnight silk, framing a delicate oval face that belied the steely determination etched into every plane and angle. Her almond-shaped eyes were as dark and impenetlessible as polished onyx, reflecting only the wavering firelight like two bottomless wells of unspoken pain and loss.
The third figure was a boy, not yet grown into manhood but standing tall and straight-backed nonetheless, his slender frame taut as a bowstring about to snap. His dark curls fell in disarray around his pale, heart-shaped face, framing large, expressive hazel eyes that darted restlessly from one grim visage to the next, brimming with anguish and unshed tears.
The silence stretched tauter still, until it felt as though it might snap like a twisted, over-tightened bowstring, sending all their carefully contained emotions flying free in a cathartic explosion of rage and grief. But the moment never came. Instead, the fireplace sighed its final breath and died out with a contented sigh, plunging them back into impenetrable darkness and the relentless, suffocating grip of the silence that engulfed them all.