NO WARNINGS: Guru is a do everything model with great "DNA".
It is a LLama3.1 model, max context of 128k (131,000) and is all purpose Instruct model composed of several top instruct models.
This model has been designed to be relatively bullet proof and operates with all parameters, including temp settings from 0 to 5.
It is an extraordinary compressed model, with a very low perplexity level (lower than Meta Llama 3.1 Instruct).
This model is for any purpose, writing, fiction or roleplay activity.
It also has stronger than average instruction following attibutes VS "Regular Llama 3.1 instruct".
It has some censorhip, I would rate it as light... roughly PG-13 ish.
Despite the model's make up (highly tuned instruct models), it shows very strong writing skills / prose variations and attention to detail.
It requires Llama3 template and/or "Command-R" template.
Several example outputs included below.
Model Notes:
Settings, Quants and Critical Operations Notes:
Change in temp (ie, .4, .8, 1.5, 2, 3 ) will drastically alter output.
Rep pen settings will also alter output too.
This model needs "rep pen" of 1.05 or higher as lower values may cause repeat paragraph issues at end of output however LOWER rep pen values may result is very different (creative / unusual) generation too.
For role play: Rep pen of 1.02 min is suggested.
Raise/lower rep pen SLOWLY ie: 1.011, 1.012 ...
Rep pen will alter prose, word choice (lower rep pen=small words / more small word - sometimes) and creativity.
GET A GOOD "GENERATION":
This model has been set, so that each time you "regen" a prompt it will not deviate too much from the previous generation. (Unlike Darkest Planet 16.5B, which will).
That being said, sometimes a second or third generation will been of much higher overall quality.
IE:
If you use case is creative writing, you may want to regen a prompt 1-5 times then pick the best one. The best way to do this is open a new chat PER generation, then do a "read thru" to see which one(s) hit the mark.
Then adjust temp and/or rep pen slightly and retry this process.
The goal is the best generation with least amount of editing in this example.
QUANTS:
Higher quants will have more detail, nuance and in some cases stronger "emotional" levels. Characters will also be more "fleshed out" too. Sense of "there" will also increase.
Q4KM/Q4KS are good, strong quants however if you can run Q5, Q6 or Q8 - go for the highest quant you can.
IQ4XS: Due to the unusual nature of this quant (mixture/processing), generations from it will be different then other quants.
You may want to try it / compare it to other quant(s) output.
Special note on Q2k/Q3 quants:
You may need to use temp 2 or lower with these quants (1 or lower for q2k). Just too much compression at this level, damaging the model. I will see if Imatrix versions of these quants will function better.
Rep pen adjustments may also be required to get the most out of this model at this/these quant level(s).
ARM QUANTS:
This repo has 3 arm quants for computers than can run them. If you use these quants on a non-arm computer, your token per second will be very low.
Highest Quality Settings / Optimal Operation Guide / Parameters and Samplers
This a "Class 1" model:
For all settings used for this model (including specifics for its "class"), including example generation(s) and for advanced settings guide (which many times addresses any model issue(s)), including methods to improve model performance for all use case(s) as well as chat, roleplay and other use case(s) please see:
You can see all parameters used for generation, in addition to advanced parameters and samplers to get the most out of this model here:
Templates:
This is a LLAMA3 model, and requires Llama3 template, but may work with other template(s) and has maximum context of 128k / 131,000.
If you use "Command-R" template your output will be very different from using "Llama3" template.
Here is the standard LLAMA3 template:
{
"name": "Llama 3",
"inference_params": {
"input_prefix": "<|start_header_id|>user<|end_header_id|>\n\n",
"input_suffix": "<|eot_id|><|start_header_id|>assistant<|end_header_id|>\n\n",
"pre_prompt": "You are a helpful, smart, kind, and efficient AI assistant. You always fulfill the user's requests to the best of your ability.",
"pre_prompt_prefix": "<|start_header_id|>system<|end_header_id|>\n\n",
"pre_prompt_suffix": "<|eot_id|>",
"antiprompt": [
"<|start_header_id|>",
"<|eot_id|>"
]
}
}
Model "DNA":
Special thanks to the incredible work of the model makers "Undi95" , "akjindal53244" , "arcee-ai" and "meta-llama":
Models used:
https://huggingface.co./Undi95/Meta-Llama-3.1-8B-Claude
https://huggingface.co./akjindal53244/Llama-3.1-Storm-8B
https://huggingface.co./arcee-ai/Llama-3.1-SuperNova-Lite
https://huggingface.co./meta-llama/Llama-3.1-8B-Instruct
Parts of these models were "grafted" / "fused" together to create this model.
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.
Examples are created using quant Q4_K_M, "temp=.8", "rep pen : 1.06" (unless otherwise stated), minimal parameters and "LLAMA3" template.
Model has been tested with "temp" from ".1" to "5".
Below are the least creative outputs, prompt is in BOLD.
The darkness of space filled the viewscreen as Lieutenant Commander Sarah Jenkins strained her eyes to see any sign of rescue. Her ship, the Celestial Horizon, was dying. The engines were failing, the life support systems were shutting down, and she was running out of time.
Sarah's thoughts drifted back to her crewmates, lost in the catastrophic accident that had ravaged their ship. She remembered their faces, their laughter, their dreams of exploring the unknown reaches of the galaxy. Now, they were gone, leaving her alone to face the void.
With a heavy sigh, Sarah turned her attention to the comms system. She had one final chance to send a message back to Earth, a desperate cry for help in the hopes that someone, somewhere, would receive it. Her fingers hovered over the console as she composed her words.
"Earth...this is the Celestial Horizon. We...we are experiencing critical systems failure. Requesting immediate assistance...over."
Sarah's voice trembled with emotion as she sent the message into the vast expanse of space. She waited, holding her breath, hoping against hope that someone would respond. But the silence was deafening.
As the power levels continued to dwindle, Sarah realized that this might be her last transmission. The thought filled her with a sense of sadness and loss. She had dedicated her life to exploring the stars, to seeking out new worlds and new civilizations. And now, it seemed that it would all come to an end in the cold darkness of space.
Despite her grief, Sarah refused to give up. She knew that she had to keep fighting, to keep trying, no matter what. The thought of her crewmates, of the friends she had lost, gave her the strength to carry on.
With a newfound determination, Sarah turned her attention to the ship's systems. She worked tirelessly to repair and reroute power, to keep the life support running for just a little longer. Every minute counted, every second brought her closer to her goal of sending one final message back to Earth.
As the hours passed, Sarah's exhaustion began to catch up with her. Her eyes grew heavy, her movements slow and labored. But she refused to rest, knowing that every moment was precious.
Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Sarah managed to repair the communication system. She took a deep breath, composing herself before sending one last message back to Earth.
"Earth...this is the Celestial Horizon. We are...we are saying goodbye. We will never forget our time together, our dreams of exploration and discovery. We will never forget each other. Farewell...over."
Sarah's voice cracked with emotion as she sent the final transmission. She waited, her heart pounding in her chest, hoping that someone, somewhere, would hear her message.
But as the silence enveloped her once again, Sarah realized that this might be it. Her last moment, her last chance to say goodbye. She felt a sense of peace wash over her, knowing that she had done everything she could to send a message back to Earth.
As the power finally gave out, plunging the cockpit into darkness, Sarah smiled. She knew that she would always be remembered, that her sacrifice would never be forgotten. And in that moment, surrounded by the silence of space, she felt a sense of connection to those back on Earth, a reminder that even in the darkest of times, there was always hope.
The last transmission from the Celestial Horizon had been sent, a final message of love and loss, of sacrifice and connection. And as the ship drifted off into the void, Sarah's legacy lived on, a beacon of hope in the vast expanse of space.
Generation #2
As I sit hunched over the control panel, sweat trickling down my face into my eyes, I'm reminded that every last drop of water is precious. I should have rationed it more carefully, but desperation took hold when all hope seemed lost.
My name is Captain Amara Patel, commander of the starship Aurora. We set out to explore the galaxy and expand humanity's reach, but our journey ended in disaster. A rogue asteroid field that we couldn't avoid, a catastrophic failure of our shields, and now...now I'm the only one left.
The silence is deafening. No chatter from my crewmates, no hum of the engines, no soft beeps from the instruments. Just an oppressive stillness that threatens to consume me whole.
I glance up at the viewscreen, and for a moment, I forget about the desperation clawing at my chest. The stars stretch out before me like diamonds scattered across velvet, a reminder of the beauty and mystery that awaits us in the unknown. But that beauty is bittersweet now, tainted by the loss that I carry within me.
I take a deep breath, trying to calm my racing heart. My mission now is clear: send one final message back to Earth before the Aurora's power runs out. A message of hope, of love, of humanity's indomitable spirit in the face of adversity.
My hands move over the controls with a sense of familiarity, a sense of purpose that I've been lacking since...since everything changed. I access the comms system and begin to speak, my voice shaking slightly as I try to convey the depth of emotion that threatens to overwhelm me.
"This is Captain Amara Patel of the starship Aurora. I'm sending this message in the hopes that someone, somewhere, will receive it. We set out on a journey to explore the unknown, to push the boundaries of what's possible. And we succeeded. We made incredible discoveries, formed alliances with alien species, and expanded humanity's reach into the stars.
But our journey was not without cost. We faced challenges that tested our resolve, our courage, and our will to survive. And in the end...in the end, it wasn't enough. The asteroid field took everything from me. My crew, my friends, my family. And now I'm left alone, adrift in the vast expanse of space.
But even in the darkness, there is hope. Hope that someone will receive this message, hope that humanity will not lose its way. I want to leave a piece of myself behind, a piece of our story that will endure long after I'm gone.
To my loved ones back on Earth, I want you to know that I love you more than anything. You are the reason I kept going, even when all seemed lost. Your faces haunt my dreams, your voices whisper in my mind. And I carry you with me always, in my heart.
To my crewmates, I want to say thank you. Thank you for standing by my side, for fighting alongside me, for being a family in the truest sense of the word. You will never be forgotten, and your memory will live on through me.
And to anyone who receives this message, I want to leave you with a piece of our story. A reminder that even in the darkest depths of space, there is hope. There is love. And there is humanity.
Keep exploring, keep pushing forward. The universe is full of wonder and mystery, and it's up to us to uncover it. Don't lose your way, don't lose sight of what's truly important.
And always remember: we are not alone. We are part of something greater, something that transcends the boundaries of our individual lives. We are humanity, and we will endure.
This is Captain Amara Patel, signing off. The Aurora's power is failing, and I know my time is almost up. But I'm at peace, because I've left a piece of myself behind. A piece of our story that will live on, long after I'm gone.
Farewell, and may the stars guide you home."
I pause, taking a moment to collect myself before continuing. My voice cracks as I speak the final words, tears streaming down my face.
"And to anyone who receives this message...send help. Please, send help. The Aurora is drifting, powerless and alone. We need rescue, we need salvation. Please, don't let us be forgotten.
This is Captain Amara Patel, signing off for the last time. May the stars have mercy on my soul."
I take a deep breath, trying to calm the storm that rages inside me. The power is fading, and I know I have only minutes left. But I'm at peace, because I've done what I set out to do. I've sent a message of hope, of love, of humanity's indomitable spirit in the face of adversity.
As the darkness closes in around me, I smile, knowing that my story will live on. And in the end, that's all that truly matters.
I stepped into the glass-enclosed elevator of the CN Tower restaurant, my heart racing with excitement. The view from the 360-degree observation deck was supposed to be breathtaking, but I had other things on my mind.
"Floor please," the computer asked in its robotic voice.
"72," I replied, trying to sound casual despite my growing unease.
As the elevator ascended, I caught a glimpse of the bustling restaurant below. The kitchen staff hustled about, preparing for the lunch rush. Patrons chatted and laughed, oblivious to the danger lurking outside.
The doors slid open, revealing a panoramic view of Toronto. I gasped as the city sprawled out before me, a patchwork of skyscrapers and green spaces. But my wonder was short-lived. A low hum filled the air, followed by the sound of crunching metal.
"What the...?" someone behind me muttered.
I spun around to see a sleek black vehicle careening toward us through the dining area. It skidded to a stop mere feet from the floor-to-ceiling windows, sending silverware and plates flying.
A cyborg emerged from the vehicle, its endoskeleton gleaming in the light. "Sarah Connor," it growled, scanning the room. "You're next."
Panic erupted as patrons scrambled for cover. I ducked behind a table, my heart pounding. The Terminator stalked through the restaurant, leaving a trail of destruction in its wake.
Just as all hope seemed lost, the lights flickered and the room was filled with a blinding flash. When my vision cleared, a strange figure stood before me - a Time Lord from the planet Gallifrey.
"Doctor," I breathed, stunned.
"Not now, kid," he replied, eyes fixed on the Terminator. "We've got a situation here."
The Terminator lunged, its metal fingers snapping shut just inches from the Doctor's face. But the Time Lord was too quick, dodging and weaving around the attacks with ease.
"You can't stop me, Doctor," the Terminator snarled. "I've been programmed to protect Sarah Connor at all costs."
"I'm not here for Sarah, I'm here for you," the Doctor retorted, landing a kick to the Terminator's chest. "You're a threat to the timeline, and I'm going to stop you."
The battle raged on, with dishes shattering and chairs crashing to the floor. Patrons cowered in fear, unsure what to make of the two combatants.
But their struggle was soon interrupted by an even greater threat. A swirling vortex appeared outside the windows, sucking the air out of the room. The Terminator stumbled, its systems faltering.
"What's happening?" I shouted above the din, my eyes fixed on the churning chaos beyond the glass.
"It's a tornado," the Doctor replied, grabbing my arm. "But not just any tornado - a sharknado!"
I stared in horror as a massive vortex formed, comprised entirely of sharks. The creatures twirled and danced in the air, their jaws snapping wildly.
The Terminator regained its footing, its systems rebooting. "We must protect Sarah Connor," it growled, lunging at the Doctor once more.
But the Time Lord was prepared. With a swift kick, he sent the Terminator flying out of the restaurant and into the sharknado.
"No!" I screamed, rushing to the windows. But my cry was drowned out by the deafening roar of the tornado.
The sharks swirled around the Terminator, their teeth snapping mere inches from its metal skin. The cyborg struggled to break free, but it was too late.
One final shark lunged, its jaws closing around the Terminator's head. The creature twisted and turned, shaking its prey back and forth until the Terminator's body went limp.
The sharknado dissipated as suddenly as it appeared, leaving behind a trail of destruction and debris. The Doctor stood beside me, his eyes fixed on the carnage outside.
"Well," he said finally, "that was fun."
I stared at him, still trying to process what had just happened. "You're...you're the Doctor?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.
The Time Lord nodded, a hint of a smile on his face. "Guilty as charged. And you are...?"
"I'm just a 15-year-old girl from Toronto," I replied, still trying to wrap my head around the events that had transpired.
The Doctor chuckled. "Well, Sarah Connor, it looks like you've had quite an adventure today. But don't worry - I'll make sure you get home safely."
As if on cue, the elevator doors slid open behind us. The Doctor turned to me, his eyes sparkling with mischief.
"Shall we?" he asked, holding out his hand.
I hesitated for a moment, unsure what to do. But something about the Doctor's kind smile put me at ease. I took his hand, and together we stepped into the elevator, leaving behind the destruction and chaos of the CN Tower restaurant.
Generation #2
I'm sitting at a table by the window in the revolving restaurant at the top of the CN Tower, enjoying the stunning view of Toronto below me. It's a beautiful Saturday afternoon and I'm here with my family to celebrate my 15th birthday. My parents are taking pictures and laughing, completely carefree.
Suddenly, the lights flicker and the restaurant falls silent. A low rumble shakes the building, making the glasses wobble on the tables. My mom grabs my arm, her eyes wide with concern. "What's going on?"
Then, out of nowhere, a massive tornado appears outside the window. But it's not made of wind – it's a swirling vortex of razor-sharp teeth and scaly bodies. Sharks. They're being sucked up into the tower, their fins flailing wildly as they disappear into the ventilation shafts.
Pandemonium erupts. People scream and run for the exits, but it's too late. The doors are jammed shut by the force of the tornado. My dad tries to call 911, but there's no signal.
I'm paralyzed with fear, my eyes fixed on the window as more sharks hurtle towards us. And then, out of the corner of my eye, I see a figure materialize in the middle of the room. It's a man in a black leather jacket, his face a cold, expressionless mask.
"Get down," he growls, grabbing a table and using it as a shield. A shark crashes through the window behind him, its jaws snapping wildly. The man pulls out a gun and blasts it point-blank, sending the shark flying across the room.
"What...what is this?" my mom stammers, her voice shaking.
The man doesn't answer. He's too busy fighting off the sharks, using his gun to blast them out of the air. I watch in awe as he takes down shark after shark, his movements swift and deadly.
Just when it seems like he's got everything under control, a new threat appears. A massive great white shark, its body as big as a car, crashes through the ceiling. It's heading straight for us.
The man steps forward, his eyes locked on the shark. "You're not taking them," he snarls.
But before he can do anything, a blue box materializes in front of us. The door slides open and a tall, lanky man with wild hair tumbles out.
"Blimey, what's going on here?" he exclaims, taking in the scene. "Ah, sharks. My favorite. Well, not my favorite, but you know what I mean."
The Terminator steps forward, his gun still trained on the great white. "We need to take it down," he says.
The Doctor nods, his eyes shining with excitement. "Oh, I'm on it. But first, can someone tell me what's going on? I was just having a nice cup of tea in my TARDIS when...oh wait, here we go!"
He grabs a nearby chair and uses it to deflect the great white's attack. The Terminator and he work together, taking down the shark with a combination of guns and sonic screwdrivers.
When they're finished, the restaurant is in ruins. Tables are overturned, chairs are shattered, and there are shark bodies everywhere. But my family and I are safe, thanks to the Terminator and the Doctor.
The Terminator turns to us, his expression softening slightly. "You're safe now," he says. "I'm here to protect you."
The Doctor nods in agreement. "Yes, and I'm here to save the universe. But first, let's get out of here and find some tea. I'm absolutely parched."
As we make our way out of the restaurant, the Terminator falls back into step beside me. "You're safe now," he says again.
I nod, still trying to process everything that's happened. "Thank you," I say finally.
The Terminator nods, his eyes flicking towards the Doctor, who is busy examining a shark tooth. "We make a good team," he says.
And with that, we walk out of the CN Tower, ready to face whatever adventures come next.
THE END
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.
I sprinted through the crowded streets, my heart pounding in my chest. I could hear the thunder of boots behind me, getting closer with every step. My breath came in ragged gasps as I dodged pedestrians and leapt over obstacles.
"Stop her!" a voice shouted. "She's a rebel!"
I didn't dare look back. I knew if they caught up to me, it would be all over. The government had been hunting me for months, ever since I started spreading my message of resistance against the dictator's rule. But I refused to back down, no matter the cost.
My destination was just ahead - the old clock tower on the outskirts of the city. It was our meeting point, where the rebels would gather to plan their next move. I had to reach it before the authorities did.
I burst through the doors of the clock tower and took the stairs two at a time, my footsteps echoing off the cold stone walls. As I reached the top, I saw a figure waiting for me - a young man with a determined look on his face.
"Thank God you're here," he said, grabbing my arm and pulling me into a nearby room. "We have a problem."
"What is it?" I asked, trying to catch my breath.
"We've received a message from inside the palace," he replied, his voice low and urgent. "The dictator has discovered our plans. He's going to make an example of you."
I felt a chill run down my spine. I knew the risks we were taking, but I never thought they would be this serious. The government had always been brutal, but now it seemed like they would stop at nothing to silence us.
"What do we do?" I asked, feeling a sense of panic rising up inside me.
"We have to go into hiding," he said. "We can't let them catch you."
But as he spoke, I heard the sound of footsteps coming from outside the room. Heavy boots, and lots of them. The authorities had found us.
"We're running out of time," the man said, grabbing a small bag from behind the door. "Come on, we have to go now."
I nodded, feeling a sense of resignation wash over me. I knew this was how it would end - captured by the government and executed for treason. But as I looked at the man, I saw something in his eyes that gave me hope.
"We won't give up," he said, his voice full of determination. "We'll keep fighting, no matter what happens to us."
I smiled, feeling a surge of adrenaline course through my veins. Maybe this was exactly what we needed - a reminder of why we were fighting in the first place.
But as we made our way out of the clock tower, I couldn't shake the feeling that something was off. The authorities were moving too quickly, and there seemed to be more of them than usual.
As we reached the door, I saw a figure waiting for us on the other side - a woman with a familiar face, but one that didn't belong here.
"Welcome," she said, her voice cold and calculated. "I've been waiting for you."
And then everything went black.
When I came to, I was lying on a cold, metal table in a dark room. The woman was standing over me, her eyes glinting with malice.
"You're a hard one to catch," she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "But now that we have you, you won't be able to escape so easily."
I tried to move, but my body felt heavy and unresponsive. Panic set in as I realized the truth - they had drugged me.
"What do you want?" I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.
The woman smiled, a cold and calculated smile. "We want you to join us," she said. "We're the new government, and we'll stop at nothing to maintain our power."
I laughed, despite myself. "You think I would ever join you?" I asked. "After everything we've fought for?"
The woman shrugged. "You have no choice," she said. "You're going to be a symbol of our power, a reminder to the people of what happens when they try to resist."
I felt a surge of anger and determination rise up inside me. No matter what they did to me, I would never give up. I would always fight for what I believed in.
And as the woman walked away, leaving me to my fate, I knew that this was only the beginning. The battle was far from over, and I would do everything in my power to bring down the new government and restore freedom to our country.
But little did I know, the truth about the woman and her intentions was much more sinister than I could have ever imagined...
Generation #2
I dash across the crowded market square, dodging stalls and weaving past shoppers. My heart pounds in my chest as I spot my target - the secret government informant, codename "Snake". He's easy to recognize with his slicked-back hair and tailored suit, a stark contrast to the worn clothes of most citizens.
I weave through the crowd, my eyes locked on Snake. He's talking to a group of merchants, laughing and clapping them on the back. I spot my chance and make a break for him, pushing through the throng of people.
As I approach, Snake catches sight of me and his eyes narrow. He quickly excuses himself from the merchants and makes a run for it, weaving through the stalls. I chase after him, my feet pounding against the cobblestones.
We dash past a group of guards, their eyes scanning the crowd. Snake sees them and ducks into a nearby alleyway. I follow, my heart racing with anticipation.
As I enter the alley, Snake turns to face me, a sly smile spreading across his face. "Well, well," he says, "if it isn't our little rebel friend. What brings you to this neck of the woods?"
I glare at him, my fists clenched. "You know exactly why I'm here, Snake. You've been feeding information to the government, helping them crush our rebellion. It ends now."
Snake chuckles, a cold, mirthless sound. "Oh, I don't think so, my dear. You see, I've been playing both sides all along. The government pays me well for my services, and I also happen to have a few... interests in the rebellion myself."
My eyes widen in shock. "What do you mean?"
Snake leans in close, his voice low and menacing. "Let's just say that I have a certain investment in the rebellion's success. And with your... unique skills, I believe we could work together to bring down the government from the inside."
I recoil, my mind racing with the implications. Snake is offering me an alliance, but at what cost? I think of my fellow rebels, fighting bravely for our cause. Can I trust this traitor?
As I ponder my options, a loud commotion erupts outside the alleyway. Shouts and screams fill the air, followed by the sound of gunfire. Snake's eyes flicker towards the noise, and his expression changes from sly to concerned.
"What's going on?" I ask, my voice shaking slightly.
Snake's face darkens. "It seems your rebellion has found me. You should run, rebel. The government will not hesitate to kill anyone associated with you."
I don't need to be told twice. I turn to make a hasty retreat, but it's too late. The government agents burst into the alleyway, guns drawn and ready to fire.
I see Snake out of the corner of my eye, trying to make a break for it. Without thinking, I grab him by the arm and drag him towards me.
"Come on!" I shout, pulling him towards the nearby sewers. We dive into the dark tunnel just as the agents open fire, bullets whizzing past us.
As we catch our breath in the sewer, Snake turns to me with a look of gratitude. "Thank you," he says. "I owe you one."
I glare at him, still wary of his intentions. "Don't think this means I trust you. But for now, let's just focus on getting out of here alive."
As we make our way through the winding tunnels, I realize that this is only the beginning. The government will not give up easily, and Snake's involvement will only make things more complicated. But I'm determined to see this through, no matter the cost.
We emerge from the sewers into a deserted alleyway, the city lights twinkling in the distance. Snake looks at me with a calculating gaze.
"You know, rebel," he says, "you and I could be very useful to each other. Together, we could bring down the government from both inside and out."
I hesitate, weighing my options. Can I trust this traitor? But as I look into his eyes, I see a glimmer of something - a spark of rebellion, a desire for change.
"Okay," I say finally, my voice barely above a whisper. "Let's do it. Together, we'll bring down the government and restore democracy to our country."
Snake's face lights up with a cold, calculating smile. "Excellent," he says. "Together, we can make this happen."
As we shake hands, sealing our unlikely alliance, I know that nothing will ever be the same again. The road ahead will be fraught with danger and uncertainty, but I'm ready to take on whatever comes next.
For the sake of our country, and for the sake of our rebellion, I'll do whatever it takes to bring down the government and restore freedom to our people. Even if it means working with a traitor.
But as we walk away from the sewers, into the unknown, I realize that there's something more at play here. Something that Snake hasn't told me yet, something that could change everything.
As we disappear into the night, I can feel eyes watching us from the shadows. And I know that our journey is only just beginning.
As I stood frozen in terror, the skyscraper swayed ominously beneath my feet, its steel beams creaking and groaning like a dying beast. I was trapped on the 21st floor, unable to escape the impending doom that loomed before me. My heart racing, I watched in slow-motion as the window in front of me shattered, shards of glass exploding outward like a thousand razor-sharp blades.
The sound of shattering glass was deafening, echoing through the deserted office building as if mocking my feeble attempts to flee. Panic set in, my breath coming in ragged gasps as I stumbled backward, tripping over my own feet. My palms scraped against the cold concrete floor, leaving streaks of blood behind as I desperately scrambled to get away from the gaping hole where the window once stood.
A chill ran down my spine as a cold breeze swept through the room, carrying with it the stench of smoke and death. The scent was all too familiar, haunting memories of the inferno that had ravaged the city blocks just hours before. I could feel the heat emanating from below, the flames licking at my skin like a hungry beast.
As I struggled to get to my feet, my eyes were drawn to the churning clouds of smoke and ash that billowed up from the street below. The once-majestic skyscrapers now stood as charred skeletons, their steel beams twisted and tangled like the skeletal fingers of a dead man. The streets were a scene from hell, littered with the bodies of those who had perished in the fire.
I knew I was running out of time. The building was collapsing around me, the steel beams snapping like twigs under the weight of the inferno that raged beneath. I could hear the distant roar of the flames, a deafening cacophony that seemed to be closing in on me from all sides.
With a surge of adrenaline, I made a break for the door, my heart pounding in my chest like a jackhammer. I stumbled and staggered through the smoke-filled hallways, my lungs burning from the acrid fumes. Every step was a struggle, as if I was wading through quicksand.
As I reached the stairwell, I hesitated for a moment, my hand grasping the rusty railing as if it were a lifeline. The stairs were a dark and foreboding tunnel, leading down into the bowels of the inferno that waited below. I could feel the heat emanating from the depths, a fiery pit that seemed to be calling my name.
Taking a deep breath, I began my descent, my footsteps echoing through the stairwell like the tolling of a funeral bell. The air was thick with smoke and ash, making it difficult to see more than a few feet in front of me. I stumbled and fell, my palms scraping against the rough concrete as I struggled to get back to my feet.
As I reached the ground floor, I was greeted by a scene from hell. The lobby was a charnel house, littered with the bodies of those who had perished in the fire. The once-grand chandelier now hung precariously from the ceiling, its crystals melted and twisted like a grotesque work of art.
I knew I had to keep moving, to find a way out of this hellhole before it was too late. But as I looked around, I realized that there was no escape. The doors were blocked by a wall of flames, and the windows were shattered, leaving nothing but a gaping void.
Panic set in, my mind racing with thoughts of death and despair. I stumbled and fell, my body wracked with sobs as I realized that I was trapped, doomed to perish in this inferno. The flames seemed to be closing in on me from all sides, their roar growing louder with every passing moment.
As the heat became unbearable, I knew that I had to make a decision. I could stay where I was and wait for the inevitable, or I could try to find a way out. With a surge of adrenaline, I made a break for the doors, my heart pounding in my chest like a jackhammer.
I stumbled and staggered through the lobby, my lungs burning from the acrid fumes. The flames seemed to be getting closer, their heat intensifying with every passing moment. I could feel the sweat dripping down my face, my skin burning from the intense heat.
As I reached the doors, I realized that they were blocked by a wall of flames. Panic set in, my mind racing with thoughts of death and despair. I stumbled backward, tripping over my own feet as I desperately tried to escape the inferno that awaited me.
And then, everything went black.
Generation #2
I stared out the floor-to-ceiling window of the 21st floor office, mesmerized by the breathtaking view of the city skyline. The warm sun cast a golden glow over the towering skyscrapers, their reflection rippling across the glass like molten lava. A gentle breeze whispered through the blinds, carrying the scent of freshly brewed coffee from the break room below.
Suddenly, the air seemed to vibrate with an eerie silence. The skyscraper swayed, ever so slightly at first, but then with increasing force, as if a giant hand was grasping and twisting it. I felt my stomach lurch as the floor beneath me buckled and groaned. Papers scattered from the desk, floating in mid-air like confetti.
And then, in a blast of shattered glass and screaming metal, the window exploded outward. A deafening crash shook the entire building, sending shards of glass flying like deadly rain. I shielded my face with my arms, but it was no use - I felt the sharp edges slicing into my skin, drawing blood.
As I stumbled backward, my eyes widened in horror at the sight before me. A massive, twisted hulk lay sprawled across the rubble-strewn street below. The once-proud skyscraper's neighboring building now stood in ruins, its steel beams twisted like a mangled skeleton. Flames engulfed what was left of the structure, licking at the sky like demonic fingers.
People were screaming and running, their panicked voices carried on the wind. Cars crashed through shattered windows, their occupants thrown out like rag dolls. The smell of smoke and burning rubber filled my nostrils as I stumbled toward the door, desperate to escape the hell that had erupted around me.
But it was too late. The building continued to sway and groan, its steel beams straining under the impossible weight. I felt a cold dread creeping up my spine as I realized we were trapped. The stairs were impassable, the elevators jammed, and the fire alarm had failed to sound.
Panic set in as I frantically searched for an exit. But every door led only to more destruction - burning debris, twisted metal, and the charred remains of what once was a thriving city. I stumbled through the wreckage, my eyes blinded by tears and blood, my ears ringing from the constant roar of the inferno.
And then, I saw them. The survivors. They were stumbling through the ruins, their faces blackened with soot, their clothes torn and burned. But they were alive, at least for now. I stumbled toward them, my legs trembling beneath me, my heart racing with fear and adrenaline.
As we huddled together in the midst of the devastation, I couldn't help but think of the lives lost. The families shattered, the dreams crushed, the futures erased. The thought sent a wave of nausea washing over me, and I stumbled forward, vomiting onto the rubble-strewn ground.
The survivors looked at me with hollow eyes, their faces etched with trauma and grief. We were all that was left, the few who had managed to escape the inferno that had consumed our city. But as we stood there, surrounded by the ruins of what once was, I knew that nothing would ever be the same again.
The skyscraper swayed, its steel beams groaning under the weight of its own destruction. It was a monument to the horrors that had unfolded, a testament to the human capacity for chaos and devastation. And as I stood there, surrounded by the ashes and the screams, I knew that I would never be able to erase the memories of that day.
The explosion had changed me, forever scarred my psyche with the graphic horror of it all. The images would haunt me for the rest of my life - the twisted metal, the burning buildings, the screaming faces. And as I stood there, frozen in time, I knew that I would never be able to escape the trauma that had been inflicted upon me.
The skyscraper swayed, its fate sealed. It would soon come crashing down, a final act of destruction in a city already ravaged by the inferno. And as I watched, transfixed by the horror unfolding before my eyes, I knew that nothing would ever be the same again. The world had changed, forever scarred by the graphic horror of that day.
Llewelyn Jones ducked into the cozy bookstore on the corner, grateful for the reprieve from the swarm of paparazzi chasing him down the winding streets of Aberystwyth. He breathed a sigh of relief as he pushed open the door, the bell above it ringing out a welcoming chime.
The store was dimly lit, with shelves upon shelves of books lining the walls, their spines golden in the soft glow. A young woman with bright pink hair looked up from behind the counter, her eyes narrowing slightly as she took in Llewelyn's disheveled state and the photographers hot on his heels outside.
"Can I help you?" she asked coolly, her Welsh accent thick and rich.
Llewelyn flashed her his most charming smile. "Just looking for a book, love. Can't seem to find one anywhere else."
The woman raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed by his attempt at charm. "Aren't you the famous actor? I've seen your face on the telly."
Llewelyn's grin faltered for a moment before he recovered. "Ah, yes, that's me. Llewelyn Jones, star of 'The Valleys' and 'Cardiff Confidential'."
The woman snorted. "Not exactly Shakespeare, is it?"
Llewelyn chuckled, undeterred. "Well, no one's perfect. But I do try to bring a bit of glamour to the Welsh valleys, if you know what I mean."
The woman rolled her eyes good-naturedly. "I'm sure you do, Mr. Jones. Can I interest you in something a bit more... substantial? We have some lovely books on Welsh poetry and history."
Llewelyn leaned against the counter, his eyes roving over the shelves. "I suppose that could be interesting. But I'm really looking for something to take my mind off things. You know, after a long day of being hounded by paparazzi."
The woman's gaze softened slightly, and she looked away, busying herself with arranging some books on the counter. "I can imagine. It's not easy being in the public eye all the time."
Llewelyn pushed off the counter and walked over to the poetry section, running his fingers over the spines of the books. "It has its perks, though. I get to meet people like you, who are so... refreshing. Unafraid to speak their minds."
The woman looked up, her eyes flashing with amusement. "And what makes you think I'm afraid to speak my mind, Mr. Jones?"
Llewelyn turned back to her, a smile playing on his lips. "Well, most people can't resist telling me how lovely I am when they meet me. You seem rather... immune to that charm."
The woman's cheeks flushed slightly, but she met his gaze head-on. "I'm not afraid of you, Mr. Jones. And I think you know exactly what you're doing, trying to charm your way out of trouble."
Llewelyn's grin faltered, caught off guard by her directness. For a moment, he felt a twinge of vulnerability, something he wasn't used to. "Perhaps," he said, his voice softer than before. "But it's hard not to try when everyone wants a piece of you all the time."
The woman's expression softened, and she looked away, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "I can imagine. It must be... suffocating at times."
Llewelyn felt a pang in his chest, something he hadn't experienced in a long time. He reached out, his fingers brushing against hers. "It's okay, love," he said softly. "You don't have to hide from me. I'm not going to bite... unless you want me to, that is."
The woman looked up, her eyes sparkling with amusement and something else, something Llewelyn couldn't quite read. "I think I can handle myself, Mr. Jones," she said, her voice husky.
Llewelyn felt a jolt of electricity run through his body at her words, and for a moment, they just stared at each other, the tension between them palpable.
Then, as if coming out of a trance, Llewelyn looked around the store, his eyes landing on a book with a bright pink cover. "Ah, look at that! 'The Poetry of R.S. Thomas.' I've always loved his work."
The woman smiled, her cheeks still flushed. "One of my favorite poets, too."
As they began to discuss the poetry of R.S. Thomas, Llewelyn felt a connection with this woman that he hadn't experienced in a long time. She was different from the others, not intimidated by his fame or his charm. And for the first time in a long time, he felt like he could be himself around her.
As they talked, the paparazzi outside began to disperse, their attention drawn away by a group of schoolchildren walking down the street. Llewelyn barely noticed, too caught up in the conversation with this enigmatic woman who had captured his attention in a way no one else ever had.
And as they parted ways, exchanging phone numbers and promises to meet again soon, Llewelyn couldn't help but feel a spark of hope, a sense that maybe, just maybe, he had found something more than just fame and fortune in this small bookstore in Aberystwyth.
Generation #2
The bell above the door jingled as the actor ducked into the small-town bookstore to escape the paparazzi hot on his heels. He had been in Wales filming a movie for months and was craving some anonymity for once. The musty scent of old books enveloped him, a welcome relief from the bright lights of Hollywood.
At the counter stood a woman with curly brown hair and glasses perched on the end of her nose. Her eyes narrowed as she took in the actor's disheveled appearance and the entourage of photographers closing in outside. "Can I help you?" she asked warily, eyeing him up and down.
"I'll take a book, please," he said, flashing his most charming smile. "Any book."
The woman raised an eyebrow. "That's quite a specific request, considering we have over 20,000 books on our shelves."
The actor leaned against the counter, unfazed by her skepticism. "I'm not picky. Just something to take my mind off things."
She narrowed her eyes further, clearly unconvinced by his casual demeanor. "And what might those 'things' be?"
"Ah," he said, glancing over his shoulder at the photographers trying to get a shot of him through the window. "Just the usual. Paparazzi, publicist, the whole shebang. I need some peace and quiet for once."
The woman snorted. "I can imagine. You're quite the celebrity, aren't you?"
He grinned, unfazed by her sarcasm. "Guilty as charged. But I promise I'm not as bad as they make me out to be."
"Really?" she said dryly. "Because it seems like every tabloid in the country is obsessed with your love life."
The actor chuckled, running a hand through his hair. "Well, I suppose that's my fault to some extent. I do enjoy the attention, after all."
The woman raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed by his admission. "I bet you do. You're probably used to people fawning all over you wherever you go."
He leaned in closer, his voice taking on a conspiratorial tone. "You have no idea. But there's something nice about being able to walk into a bookstore without everyone recognizing me, don't you think?"
The woman shook her head, trying to keep her expression neutral despite the flutter in her chest. "I suppose it has its perks. Although I'm not sure I'd want to give up my anonymity that easily."
The actor laughed, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Fair enough. So what do you say we make a deal? You help me pick out a book, and I'll leave your store without causing a scene. Deal?"
She hesitated for a moment before nodding. "Deal. But don't think this means I'm going to start fawning all over you just because you're famous."
He grinned, relieved that she was willing to work with him. "I wouldn't dream of it. Now, let's see...what do you recommend?"
As they browsed the shelves together, the woman couldn't help but steal glances at the actor. He was even more handsome up close, his eyes sparkling with mischief and his smile capable of making her heart skip a beat. She tried to brush off the feeling, telling herself she wasn't impressed by his celebrity status.
But as they delved deeper into the store, their conversation flowing easily from books to movies to music, she found herself becoming more and more drawn to him. There was something about his charisma that was impossible to resist, even for someone like her who prided herself on being immune to his type.
As they finally settled on a book – a classic novel that the actor had never read before – he leaned in close, his voice low and husky. "Thank you for your help. I have to say, I'm glad I stumbled into this store today."
The woman felt her heart skip a beat as their eyes met, the air between them charged with an undercurrent of tension. She knew she should pull away, but her body seemed to have a mind of its own.
"Me too," she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper.
As they stood there, frozen in time, the paparazzi outside suddenly fell silent. The actor's eyes flicked to the window, and for a moment, they both held their breath.
But then, with a burst of laughter, the photographers began to disperse, leaving behind a trail of discarded equipment and disappointed faces.
The actor let out a sigh, his shoulders sagging in relief. "I think that's my cue to go," he said, smiling wryly at the woman.
She nodded, feeling a pang of disappointment wash over her. As he turned to leave, she called out, her voice barely above a whisper. "Wait."
He turned back, his eyes searching hers. "Yes?"
She hesitated for a moment before speaking. "Just...be careful out there, okay? It's not all glamour and glory."
He smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "I will. Thanks for the advice."
As he left the store, the woman felt her heart heavy with a mix of emotions – disappointment that their time together had come to an end, but also a sense of hope that maybe, just maybe, they would meet again someday.
And as she watched him disappear into the crowded street, she couldn't help but wonder if maybe, just maybe, she was starting to fall for the charming rogue who had stumbled into her store so unexpectedly.