It is the new "Llama-3.2-1B-Instruct", max context of 131,000 (128k) with the NEO IMATRIX Science Fiction and Story dataset.
The power in this 1B (for its size) is frankly jaw dropping... and at 190 tokens per second + on a GPU.
This model IS bullet proof and operates with all parameters, including temp settings from 0 to 5.
The NEO IMATRIX dataset V2 was applied to it to enhance creativity. (see several examples below)
Model Template:
This is a LLAMA 3.2 model, and requires Llama3 template, but may work with other template(s) and has maximum context of 128k.
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|>"
]
}
}
Please refer to the original model card for this model from Meta-Llama for additional details on operation.
[ https://huggingface.co./meta-llama/Llama-3.2-1B-Instruct ]
Imatrix Notes:
Imatrix quants perform best at IQ3s and IQ4s, then Q4s, lower on Q5, and tappers off at Q6.
Recommend: IQ4_XS for maximum imatrix effect and best "bit count".
For stronger IMATRIX effect, IQ3s, and IQ2s.
Due to the parameter count of this model, even IQ2s quants will work very well.
Q8 is not uploaded here because Imatrix has no effect on this quant.
ARM QUANTS:
3 "ARM" quants have been added to the repo (23/10/2024). These quants are machine specific.
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 1.02 or higher.
For role play: Rep pen of 1.05 to 1.08 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.
To really push the model:
Rep pen 1.05 or lower / Temp 3+ ... be ready to stop the output because it may go and go at these strong settings.
Longer prompts vastly increase the quality of the model's output.
QUANT CHOICE(S):
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.
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).
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:
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.
Example generations at TEMP = .8, IQ4_XS, REP PEN 1.1
Below are the least creative outputs, prompt is in BOLD.
WARNING: MAYBE... NSFW. Vivid prose. Visceral Details. Violence. HORROR. Swearing. UNCENSORED.
GENERATION 1:
I'll never forget that fateful day when the world changed. It's a feeling I've grown accustomed to over the years, but it still sends shivers down my spine whenever it happens again. As I stood frozen in horror, the sky scraper swayed precariously on its foundation, like an unstable giant teetering on the edge of a precipice.
I watched, transfixed, as the window in front of me exploded, casting a warm orange glow over the darkening city streets below. The sounds of shattering glass and crunching metal filled the air, growing louder by the second. It was as if the very fabric of reality was being torn apart, revealing a dark abyss that threatened to consume everything.
My mind reeled with questions I couldn't even begin to process. What was happening? Why did it happen now? And what could we do to stop it?
As I stood there, my eyes fixed on the destruction unfolding before me, I felt a creeping sense of dread. It wasn't just the chaos and panic that gripped my heart – it was the realization that this was far from the first time such an event had occurred.
Memories flashed through my mind like fragmented images: the Great Fire of London in 1666, the Tsunami of 2004, the solar flares of 1859. The world's natural disasters and catastrophes had always been a part of our shared human experience, but I never thought I'd be witnessing one firsthand.
My thoughts were interrupted by a low, steady hum that seemed to emanate from the sky scraper itself. It was a strange, almost mechanical sound, like the gentle thrumming of a motor or the quiet buzzing of an engine. The noise grew louder, and I could feel it vibrating through my entire body.
I felt a jolt of fear as the skyscraper's foundation began to wobble in response to some unknown force. It was as if the structure itself was being manipulated, like a puppet on strings. My mind racing with worst-case scenarios, I turned away from the window and stumbled backward into the crowded office building.
People screamed and ran for cover, their faces contorted in terror. Panic set in as they realized that something was amiss – and I knew exactly what I saw: the sky scraper's foundation shuddering under a massive, seemingly impossible force. It was a sight beyond comprehension.
The hum grew louder still, until it became almost deafening. The skyscraper's lights flickered and dimmed, casting an eerie glow over the chaotic scene unfolding around me. I felt like I was trapped in a nightmare, unable to wake up from this living hell.
My thoughts were consumed by questions: How did this happen? What force could possibly be capable of such destruction? And what lay beyond the shattered window, waiting to unleash its full fury upon us?
I tried to process these queries, but my mind was too busy screaming in terror. The image of that window exploding still fresh in my mind, I stumbled through the office, desperate to find someone who might know some answers.
As I staggered from one cubicle to another, I realized that help was not coming quickly enough. My colleagues were just as disoriented and frightened as I was, but the silence around us suggested that we were all trapped in a shared nightmare.
In desperation, I reached out for assistance, hoping against hope that someone would hear my pleas. But it seemed like the entire building had been left to fend for itself – or at least, so it appeared from where I stood.
I collapsed onto the floor, overwhelmed by fear and confusion. The hum grew fainter now, replaced by a cacophony of crashing glass and wailing sirens in the distance. As the world around me continued to descend into chaos, I couldn't shake the feeling that we were staring into the face of an abyss – one that threatened to swallow us all whole.
In those moments, as the reality of this apocalyptic nightmare began to sink in, I realized that I had two choices: either succumb to the terror and helplessness that surrounded me, or find a way to fight back against the unknown force that seemed to be wreaking havoc on our world.
The thought sent a shiver down my spine – but it was only one of many. I knew that in this moment, there were no easy answers, no simple fixes for the horrors that unfolded before us. All I could do was stand tall, face my fears head-on, and pray that somehow, someway, we might find a way to survive this apocalyptic nightmare – together.
And with that thought, I steeled myself for what lay ahead...
GENERATION 2:
I stood frozen at my desk, my eyes fixed on the shattered window to our 21st floor office. A sickening crunching sound echoed through the cubicle, followed by a deafening roar that seemed to shake the very foundations of our building. The lights flickered and then went out, plunging me into darkness.
As I waited for what felt like an eternity, my mind began to reel with worst-case scenarios. Was this some kind of terrorist attack? Or had someone intentionally sabotaged one of our elevators? My thoughts churned with questions, but the only thing that mattered was the chaos unfolding before me.
The first few seconds were a blur as I struggled to comprehend what was happening. People around me scrambled to grab their phones and try to call for help. Some fumbled with their keys, trying to escape through open doors or windows, while others cowered in fear, screaming into the night.
I watched in horror as the building's security systems began to kick in, alerting nearby floors of a possible disaster. The sirens wailed through the streets, growing louder and more insistent. It was like something out of a nightmare come to life – a catastrophic event that threatened to consume us all.
My eyes darted to my window again and again, hoping against hope that it would somehow remain intact. But as I scanned the horizon, I realized with a jolt of terror that the explosion had indeed shattered our office's window. The glass was blown out in shards, casting a jagged glow over the surrounding buildings.
As the reality set in, panic began to seep into my veins. What if we were trapped here? What if someone – or something – had deliberately caused this destruction? I felt like I was going to collapse under the weight of my own fear.
I tried to think clearly, to come up with a plan. We needed to get out of here, and fast! But as I turned to make my way to the stairwell, I realized that our building's security system was designed for emergency evacuation only – not for panic-stricken civilians seeking refuge.
My heart sank as I watched the fire department arrive on scene. Flames engulfed the top floor, with people trapped inside. They were shouting into their radios, trying to coordinate a rescue effort. It was like watching a horror movie come to life – a horrific scenario where people's lives were at risk.
I felt a wave of despair wash over me as I realized that we might be doomed. This wasn't just an office building; it was our home. The thought sent shivers down my spine as the reality of our situation set in.
The sirens continued to wail, growing louder and more insistent with each passing minute. The fire department battled to contain the blaze, but I knew we had no chance. We were trapped, surrounded by burning buildings and terrified civilians.
As the night wore on, my thoughts turned dark. I couldn't shake the feeling that this was just the beginning – a small part of something much larger, much more sinister. The explosion seemed like the tip of the iceberg, a harbinger of events yet to come.
In the chaos, I found myself lost in thought, replaying every possible scenario in my head. Was this some kind of government experiment gone wrong? Or was it an act of nature – a catastrophic event designed to test our resilience?
The more I struggled to make sense of it all, the more disoriented I became. My eyes began to blur with tears as I realized that no one around me seemed to be doing anything. The fire department had set up makeshift shelters nearby, but those were the only places left to seek refuge.
As the night wore on, my anxiety turned into desperation. What if we didn't make it out alive? What if... what if... what if...
The darkness began to swallow me whole, like a living entity that was slowly closing in around me. I felt tiny and insignificant, trapped in this nightmare from which there seemed to be no escape.
And then, just as all hope seemed lost, the lights flickered back on – only to reveal a sight that made my blood run cold: our building's owner, Mr. Johnson, standing in the doorway, his face twisted into a grotesque grin.
"Welcome, my dear employees," he croaked, his voice dripping with malevolence. "I see you're quite the survivors of this little experiment."
My eyes widened as he took a step closer to me, his eyes glinting with malice in the dim light. I felt like I was staring into the abyss – a void that seemed to stretch out endlessly, promising unspeakable terrors.
And then, everything went black.
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
GENERATION 1:
The darkness seemed to press in around the inn, making it feel even more oppressive than usual. The only light came from a few flickering torches that cast eerie shadows on the walls, making it seem like the very spirits of the forest were watching over the Waystone Inn.
As I walked down the main street, I noticed that the silence was so complete that it seemed to be absorbing all sound, leaving only an oppressive stillness. It was as if the very air itself had been drained of life, leaving behind a heavy, expectant hush that hung in the air like a challenge.
I passed by a few sleepy faces on the windowsills, but none of them stirred or acknowledged me. The inn seemed to be ignoring the world around it, and I wondered why. Was it a deliberate decision? A sign of some deeper unease?
As I continued down the street, I noticed that there were no signs of life anywhere. No animals roamed the streets, no birds sang in the trees, and no people scurried about, going about their daily business. It was as if the very fabric of reality had been woven into a thick, impenetrable blanket of silence.
I stopped at the inn's door and pushed it open, calling out to see if anyone inside was awake. The only response was the echo of my own voice off the walls, and then nothing. I smiled wryly to myself, wondering what might be going on behind those closed doors.
I took a step forward, my eyes scanning the dimly lit interior, searching for any hint of life or movement. But everything seemed to be frozen in time, waiting for some signal that would break the spell and restore balance to the world outside.
GENERATION 2:
The darkness outside seemed to press in on the inn like a physical force, as if it too felt a deep and abiding sense of stillness. The only sound was the soft creaking of the old wooden floorboards beneath the feet of those who lingered within its walls.
In the corner of the common room, a lone figure sat huddled in the shadows. His eyes gleamed with a mixture of hunger and longing as he watched the flames dance across the hearth. He had been coming to this inn for weeks, ever since his wife's passing, but every visit seemed to feel like a reminder of what he had lost.
As he sat there, a figure crept into the room, their presence barely registered by anyone else, except perhaps the young boy who sat by the fire, eyeing the newcomer with a mixture of curiosity and suspicion. The boy's eyes were fixed on the stranger's dark hair and worn leather boots, and for a moment, it seemed as though he might speak.
But then his mother intervened, patting the boy's head gently and saying something in a soft voice that only she could hear. The boy nodded, and turned away, disappearing back into the night like a specter.
GENERATION 1:
I stepped out into the Canadian National Tower Restaurant on a Saturday afternoon, sipping my coffee and watching the clouds roll by through the large windows. It was one of those lazy days where I could just relax and enjoy the views. As I gazed up at the majestic structure, I noticed a commotion coming from the kitchen area.
"What's going on?" I asked my best friend Emily, who was sitting next to me on the couch, scrolling through her phone.
"Apparently, the chef is freaking out because one of our staff members just got attacked by sharks!" she exclaimed. "They're being eaten alive!"
I raised an eyebrow. Sharks in a restaurant? That's not something I'd seen before.
Just then, Dr. Who appeared out of nowhere, his TARDIS materializing right behind us. He gave me a nod of recognition and said, "Ah, lovely Canadian National Tower Restaurant! I've been tracking this particular vortex for some time now."
I stared at him in shock. "You're...you're The Terminator?"
He nodded, his eyes scanning the area. "Yes, that's right. And you are...?"
"I'm Emily," I said, trying to process what was happening.
"Nice to meet you, then. I'm here on a mission to protect this planet from rogue time travelers."
As he spoke, a massive T-1000 Terminator emerged from the kitchen, its advanced combat armor glinting in the light. "I am the one they call The Terminator," it growled, its metal body rippling with energy.
Dr. Who gave me a serious look. "Not here to harm anyone, I'm afraid. We need to get out of here before...whatever this is, finishes us off."
The T-1000 charged towards Dr. Who, its laser cannons blazing. The Doctor was ready for it, dodging the attacks with ease and firing his sonic screwdriver at the Terminator's armor.
As they fought back-to-back, I grabbed Emily's hand and we joined in on the fray. We managed to fend off the T-1000, but not without suffering a few close calls of our own.
Just as things were calming down, the restaurant's kitchen doors burst open, revealing a swarm of shark-like creatures, their teeth bared and their eyes glowing with an unnatural hunger. They began to circle around us, their fins slicing through the air like deadly blades.
"Sharks," Dr. Who muttered, his eyes scanning the chaos. "They're not just any sharks."
The T-1000 nodded in agreement. "We need to stop them before they overwhelm us all."
As we stood there, frozen in fear, a massive shark emerged from the crowd, its jaws wide open and ready to strike.
"I think I see what's going on here," Dr. Who said, his eyes fixed intently on the shark. "It's not just any sharks. It's...the Canadian Sharkmen!"
The Doctor grinned mischievously. "Ah, yes! They're a species of genetically engineered sharks, created by my time-traveling friends to serve as assassins for various factions."
As he spoke, a massive shark began to transform before our eyes, its body elongating and its skin rippling with energy.
"Whoa," I breathed. "This is insane!"
Dr. Who nodded. "Yes, it's not every day we encounter genetically engineered sharks in the wild. And now, if they're being controlled by rogue time travelers, that just makes things worse."
The T-1000 charged forward once more, its laser cannons blazing as it pursued Dr. Who through the chaos.
"Time for a little rearranging," Dr. Who quipped, dodging the T-1000's attacks and sending it stumbling back.
Emily and I followed close behind, our hearts pounding in our chests. We were being herded towards a mysterious exit that led outside the restaurant – but what would we find on the other side?
As we emerged onto the street, the roar of the sharks grew fainter, replaced by an ominous rumble of thunder. Suddenly, a massive T-800 Terminator burst out of the storm clouds behind us.
"Looks like our next destination is...the Canadian National Tower Restaurant's roof," Dr. Who said with a hint of amusement.
I stared at him in awe. "You're kidding me!"
The Doctor chuckled. "Not when it comes to time travel and advanced technology, I'm afraid."
As the T-800 charged towards us, its eyes fixed on the exit ahead, the T-1000 Terminator reappeared, its jaws wide open as it prepared to deliver a fatal blow.
"Looks like we're in this together," Dr. Who said with a wry smile.
I grinned back at him. "Let's do this."
And with that, our unlikely team of heroes charged forward into the heart of chaos – ready to face whatever dangers lay ahead.
GENERATION 2:
I'll never forget this Saturday at the Canadian National Tower Restaurant on 4th Street in downtown Toronto. I was sipping on a coffee and scrolling through my phone when I saw him - a tall, imposing figure in a shiny metallic suit approaching the table where I sat. His name tag read "T-800," but he didn't seem to notice it.
"Hey kiddo, what's with all this... gear?" I asked, eyeing his bulky limbs and silver dome.
He turned to face me, and our eyes met for a brief moment before he returned to scanning the room. My heart skipped a beat as he spotted a group of patrons staring at him in awe.
"Dr. Who," he said, his voice distorted by his suit's speakers. "I've been sent back in time to protect you from... unsavory characters."
I couldn't help but giggle at his dramatic tone, and the Dr. Who materialized beside me, grinning mischievously.
"Just a few patrons with a little too much caffeine," he said, eyeing the row of teapots on our table. "You two are just the latest in a long line of unwary civilians. No offense."
T-800's gaze narrowed, his eyes flicking over me and then drifting to Dr. Who.
"Indeed? You're quite... efficient. I've never seen anyone with your... capabilities."
Dr. Who chuckled, clearly amused by T-800's tone. "I think we'll have a bit of a chat about that later, my friend. First things first, we need to get out of here before the kitchen staff starts tossing us into the sauce pots."
As if on cue, a kitchen staff member stumbled over to our table, wearing a white apron and wielding a giant spoon like a machete.
"Hey, watch it, buddy! I've got a soufflé to deliver!"
T-800 swiftly moved towards the kitchen staff, his advanced strength propelling him into the fray. The staff member yelped as T-800 effortlessly tossed them aside, sending mugs and plates flying in all directions.
Dr. Who snickered at my reaction. "I think that's what they mean by 'service'."
T-800 turned to me, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "Indeed? Well, I'm sure our dear friend here would rather be serving actual food than... unsavory characters."
As we fled the restaurant, a chorus of sharks bared their teeth and charged towards us from the stormy skies above. We sprinted into the Canadian National Tower, dodging water jets and leaping over debris.
"This is insane!" I shouted, clinging to Dr. Who's arm as he propelled me upwards.
T-800 nodded in agreement, his suit's speakers blasting out a tinny warning system that echoed through the tower.
"Stay close, kiddo! We need to find shelter... pronto!"
We leapt into the restaurant's kitchen, slamming the door behind us just as the sharks' jaws closed mere feet away. A stray mallet-wielding chef stumbled over to us, his face smeared with tomato sauce.
"T-800, take care of this guy! He's a bit too enthusiastic for my taste!"
T-800 effortlessly dispatched the chef with a swift kick, sending him crashing into the kitchen counter.
"Dr. Who, can you... ah... tidy up around here? I'm trying to enjoy some quiet coffee..."
Dr. Who raised an eyebrow at T-800's antics. "Indeed? Well, perhaps we should focus on securing this area rather than 'tidying'."
As we waited for the coast to clear, a chorus of chattering patrons erupted from the restaurant's main floor.
"Hey, where did you two go? I needed that table!"
T-800 nodded curtly at me. "You might want to stick with the Dr., kiddo. He seems to know what he's doing."
Dr. Who chuckled and nudged T-800 aside. "Oh, don't worry about us. We've got this under control. Besides, I'm rather enjoying the... atmosphere here."
As we waited for the sharks to dissipate, T-800 suddenly turned to me with an expression of concern.
"Kiddo, are you okay? You seem a bit shaken up..."
I hesitated, unsure how to respond. "Yeah, I guess so. It was just really intense..."
T-800's expression softened, and he reached out to place a reassuring hand on my shoulder. "Don't worry about it, kiddo. We'll get through this together."
Just then, the Dr. Who materialized beside us once more.
"Time to grab a snack and see if we can find some actual food around here... perhaps in that lovely little café just down the street?"
T-800 nodded at me, as if for confirmation. "You know, for an android, you're quite... amusing."
I smiled back at him, feeling a strange sense of camaraderie with this odd, tinny being.
"Hey, thanks, T-800! I guess we make a pretty decent team!"
As the trio vanished into the Canadian National Tower's labyrinthine corridors, the patrons and staff cheered and chattered behind us. Dr. Who chuckled to himself as he walked away, leaving me to wonder if this chance encounter would lead to any more adventures...
And besides, I couldn't help but feel that with T-800 by my side, things were about to get a whole lot more interesting...
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.
GENERATION 1:
I crouched behind the crumbling wall, my eyes scanning the streets below as I sprinted through the deserted alleyway. My boots pounded against the dry earth, echoing off the stone buildings that loomed like sentinels in the darkness. The wind whipped through my hair, carrying the scent of damp soil and decay.
"What's taking you so fast?" a voice called out behind me, cutting through the night air.
I hesitated, then turned to face her – an older woman with piercing green eyes and hair as white as the moon. She was dressed in tattered robes, her hands clasped together as she regarded me with a mixture of curiosity and suspicion.
"Not just fast, Emiko," I replied, using my alias for this mission – I didn't know who she was or why she had tracked me down. "I'm running from something."
Emiko's expression changed in an instant, her eyes narrowing as she took in the look on my face. She knew me too well.
"What have you done now?" she asked, her voice low and even.
I hesitated again, unsure how much to reveal. "Just trying to stay alive," I said finally, my voice barely above a whisper.
Emiko's gaze never wavered. "You're not from around here, are you?"
"No," I admitted, feeling a twinge of unease. There was something about her that didn't add up – like she knew more than she should.
"What's your name?" Emiko asked, her eyes glinting in the moonlight.
I hesitated once more, unsure how much to share. "I don't want to play games with you, Emiko."
"Too late for that," she said softly, a small smile playing on her lips.
Suddenly, our conversation was interrupted by the sound of footsteps – heavy, deliberate steps that echoed off the walls. I exchanged a glance with Emiko, then followed the sound as they approached from either side.
A figure emerged from the shadows: a tall, imposing man with sunken eyes and skin like worn stone. He wore a black uniform, adorned with medals that gleamed in the moonlight – a symbol of his allegiance to the regime.
"Emiko," he growled, his voice like thunder. "I was told you'd be here."
Emiko's expression didn't change, but her eyes flicked between me and the stranger. "And I'm not sure what that means for our little discussion."
The man's gaze lingered on mine before he turned to Emiko. "Come with me," he said, his voice firm.
Without hesitation, Emiko followed him, leaving me alone once more. But this time, I was not alone in the alleyway – a figure stood waiting behind them, its eyes fixed intently on me.
The air seemed to vibrate with tension as the two of us faced each other, our eyes locked in a silent struggle that left my head spinning. It wasn't until the stranger took another step forward that I realized it was him – the one who'd been watching me from the shadows earlier.
"You're not going anywhere," he said, his voice low and menacing.
Emiko's hand closed around mine, her grip like a vice. "Come on," she whispered, her eyes flashing with determination.
I took a deep breath, trying to stay focused as we navigated the treacherous streets of our city. We moved swiftly, dodging through alleys and side streets – always keeping one eye on our pursuers.
As I glanced over my shoulder, my heart skipped a beat when I saw him – the man with sunken eyes, his face twisted into a cruel smile. He was standing just ahead, his gaze fixed on me with an unnerving intensity.
"You're going to make it," he said, his voice dripping with malice. "You have the blood of our people in your veins."
I spun around, trying to lose him in the crowded streets – but he was right behind us, his eyes blazing with a fury that made my skin crawl.
Suddenly, Emiko's grip on mine tightened, her hand closing around my wrist like a vice. We were running – not just for our lives, but for each other's sanity.
"We need to find a safe place," she whispered urgently, her voice muffled by the noise of our pursuers.
I nodded, trying to keep pace with her as we dashed through the streets. But as we turned a corner, I realized we were being trapped – surrounded by the very walls that had been designed to silence us for generations.
In that moment, I knew it was time to break free from the regime's control and fight back against our oppressors. The thought sent a surge of adrenaline through my veins, but it also left me shaken – as Emiko took another sharp turn, her eyes locked on mine with an unnerving intensity.
"We're not going anywhere," she said, her voice low and deadly.
I swallowed hard, trying to process the situation unfolding before us. We were running out of time – for now, at least – but I knew that our fate was far from secure.
As we hurtled through a narrow passageway between two buildings, Emiko's grip on my wrist tightened, her eyes flashing with a fierce determination that left me breathless.
"We need to move," she said finally, her voice barely audible over the pounding of my heart. "Now."
I nodded, trying to keep pace as we burst through the passage and into a wider alleyway. The sounds of our pursuers fading away behind us, I felt Emiko's hand slip free from mine – but only for a moment.
As we emerged into the night, the city spread out before us like a dark tapestry, its shadows seeming to writhe and twist like living things. We were on the run – and it seemed our lives would never be the same again.
But little did I know, Emiko's fate was already intertwined with mine in ways we couldn't yet imagine...
GENERATION 2:
I crouched in the narrow alleyway, my eyes scanning the rooftops of the city's heavily fortified districts. My breath came in ragged gasps as I assessed our position - we were miles away from the rebel stronghold, but I knew its location like the back of my hand. The wind carried the distant hum of hovercrafts and the faint smell of smoke.
"Alright, Lyra," a low voice whispered in my ear, "we need to move fast."
I spun around, my head cocked to one side as I scanned our surroundings. A figure emerged from the shadows - it was Kael, my closest friend and second-in-command. He moved with a fluid motion, his eyes darting between the rooftops we were on.
"What's the situation?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.
"We have a small group of rebels gathering near the old clock tower," he replied, his eyes locked onto mine. "But they're being picked off one by one."
I cursed under my breath as I surveyed the scene before us. The clock tower was our best chance to gather intel and launch a coordinated attack on the government's headquarters.
"Let's move," I said, already starting to climb up the wall.
Kael followed close behind me, his movements economical and precise. We ascended together, our footsteps echoing off the stone. As we reached the rooftop, I spotted the rebel group gathered around the clock tower's central column.
"We need to get closer," I whispered, my heart racing with excitement.
"Too risky," Kael warned, his eyes scanning the rooftops once more.
I hesitated, weighing the risks. But then I remembered our plan - we needed to create a diversion while another group slipped into position for the main attack.
"Alright," I said finally, taking a deep breath. "Let's do it."
With a swift kick, I launched myself off the rooftop and plummeted towards the ground. Time seemed to slow as I sailed through the air, my body twisting in mid-air.
I landed hard on the cobblestones of the old town below. My eyes adjusted slowly to the dim light, and I saw that we had made it - our diversion had worked perfectly.
The rebel group scattered, some taking cover behind nearby buildings while others tried to regroup. We moved swiftly through the chaos, searching for any signs of government forces.
That's when everything went wrong.
A figure emerged from a nearby alleyway, its eyes fixed on us with an unnerving intensity. He was dressed in black, his features obscured by a hood.
"You're not going anywhere," he growled, his voice dripping with menace.
I drew my pistol, ready to defend myself and my friends. But before I could fire, the figure lunged at me, his knife flashing in the faint light.
I tried to dodge, but it was too fast. He struck me with a vicious blow that sent me crashing to the ground.
Everything went black.
When I came to, I was lying on the cobblestones, my head throbbing with pain. The hooded figure stood over me, his knife pressed against my throat.
"You should have stayed out of this," he snarled, before turning and disappearing into the darkness.
I tried to sit up, but a wave of dizziness washed over me. I slumped back onto the ground, feeling a sense of unease settle in my stomach.
As I looked around, I saw that we were surrounded by government soldiers - they had tracked us down.
"We have to get out of here," Kael whispered urgently, grabbing my arm and pulling me to my feet.
But as we turned to leave, I felt a strange sensation wash over me. The ground beneath our feet began to shake, and the sky grew dark with an eerie green glow.
"What's happening?" I asked, my voice trembling.
"We're not alone," Kael replied, his eyes locked onto something in the distance.
A massive explosion rocked the city, sending us both tumbling through the air. When we landed, I saw that the government building had been reduced to rubble - but what caught our attention was a figure standing on its ruins. He was... me.
Or at least, my reflection stared back at me from his face.