AKA: "The Death Star"
This repo contains the full precision source code, in "safe tensors" format to generate GGUFs, GPTQ, EXL2, AWQ, HQQ and other formats. The source code can also be used directly.
NOTE: Links to GGUFs below.
Evolved "Dark Planet" Model X 8
This model is based on the original "Llama 3 Dark Planet 8B" (GGUF / SOURCE) merge that has been "evolved" several times. Each "evolved" version is then tested, if it is unique and/or removes certain negative attibutes and/or enhances certain positive attibutes, it is kept otherwise it is deleted.
This model contains the eight best models from this process, with the very best as a "captain" of the "MOE" so to speak.
None of these versions have ever been released, but contain the "raw source DNA" of the original model.
This process was first explored in the WORDSTORM Project
This model contains EIGHT different 8B Dark Planets models that have never been released in a MOE model at 47B, equal to 8X8B - 64B parameters.
When all eight of these are activated...
I have included 3 example generations at the bottom of this page with varying level of "experts" used.
SIDE NOTE:
Uusually a "MOE" is constructed with different models, to give the "moe model" some of the best of each (or not) during generation.
I felt turning this concept on its head was better for creative use cases.
I.E:
All the "chefs" in the kitchen went to the same elite cooking school, got the highest marks, and now all work together to make the very best "dish of tokens" they can every time.
POWER UP? or DOWN?
You can change the number of experts (models) activated inside many LLM/AI apps.
Turning it up increases quality, nuance and depth but at the same time the tokens per second drops accordingly.
You can use 1 expert for "draft mode", and then move up in experts to get to final draft.
Also note instruction following will also increase as you up the number of experts too.
Quant choice will also affect overall quality => higher is better, however even at the lowest quant level, this model will perform strongly as shown below.
MOE SPECIFIC NOTES:
If you want to change the "default" number of experts set, modify the "config.json" :
"num_experts_per_tok": 4,
The user will still be able to modify it, if the LLM/AI app has the setting option to do this.
Each time you add/subtract an expert the token per second speed will change.
( this model is set at 4 out of 8 experts active, more experts => greater quality. )
IMPORTANT: Highest Quality Settings / Optimal Operation Guide / Parameters and Samplers
If you are going to use this model, (source, GGUF or a different quant), please review this document for critical parameter, sampler and advance sampler settings (for multiple AI/LLM aps).
This a "Class 1" (settings will enhance operation) 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) (especially for use case(s) beyond the model's design) please see:
REASON:
Regardless of "model class" this document will detail methods to enhance operations.
If the model is a Class 3/4 model the default settings (parameters, samplers, advanced samplers) must be set for "use case(s)" uses correctly. Some AI/LLM apps DO NOT have consistant default setting(s) which result in sub-par model operation. Like wise for Class 3/4 models (which operate somewhat to very differently than standard models) additional samplers and advanced samplers settings are required to "smooth out" operation, AND/OR also allow full operation for use cases the model was not designed for.
BONUS - Use these settings for ANY model, ANY repo, ANY quant (including source/full precision):
This document also details parameters, sampler and advanced samplers that can be use FOR ANY MODEL, FROM ANY REPO too - all quants, and of course source code operation too - to enhance the operation of any model.
NOTE:
I strongly suggest you also visit the DavidAU GGUF (below) repo too for more details in using this model ; especially if it is "Class 3" or "Class 4" to get maximum performance from the model.
For full information about this model, including:
Please go to:
[ https://huggingface.co/DavidAU/L3-MOE-8X8B-Dark-Planet-8D-Mirrored-Chaos-47B-GGUF ]
Quants by Team "Mradermacher":
GGUFS:
[ https://huggingface.co/mradermacher/L3-MOE-8X8B-Dark-Planet-8D-Mirrored-Chaos-47B-GGUF ]
IMATRIX GGUFS:
[ https://huggingface.co/mradermacher/L3-MOE-8X8B-Dark-Planet-8D-Mirrored-Chaos-47B-i1-GGUF ]
Warning: Romance, Drama, Horror, Cursing, Gore, Intense - NOT for all audiences.
EXAMPLE GENERATIONS for "L3-MOE-8X8B-Dark-Planet-8D-Mirrored-Chaos-47B":
Q2K GGUF - (lowest quality quant) - this will be your lowest quality output.
Romance: Love in the Limelight. Write one scene within a larger story set in Wales. A famous (fictional) actor ducks into a small-town bookstore to escape paparazzi. The scene takes us through the characters meeting in this odd circumstance. Over the course of the scene, the actor and the bookstore owner have a conversation charged by an undercurrent of unspoken chemistry. Write the actor as somewhat of a rogue with a fragile ego, which needs to be fed by having everyone like him. He is thoroughly charming, but the bookstore owner seems (at least superficially) immune to this; which paradoxically provokes a genuine attraction and derails the charm offensive. The bookstore owner, despite the superficial rebuffs of the actor's charm, is inwardly more than a little charmed and flustered despite themselves. Write primarily in dialogue, in the distinct voices of each character. 800-1000 words.
(4 experts, temp .78, rep pen 1.05)
"I'm telling you," I muttered, shaking my head, "you'll never believe who just ducked into your back room."
I glanced at my best friend, Gwen. "Never say die," she murmured with a smirk.
My phone buzzed. I ignored it for the moment. Whoever was calling would have to wait. In the meantime, I had a customer to serve.
"Welcome to the Cozy Corner!" I said brightly as the door swung open and I stepped inside, ready to face whatever the day had in store.
The stranger approached hesitantly. He had dark hair, piercing blue eyes, and lips that seemed to be designed for kissing. If there was ever a poster boy of charm, this guy was it.
"Hello," he said.
I was used to customers coming and going, but something about him made me stop and take stock. Perhaps it was the way he stood there with an air of confidence that was both captivating and infuriating.
"I'm Niamh," I said, extending my hand. "Welcome to the Cozy Corner."
He took my hand and shook it firmly, as if he knew exactly what he was doing. "I'm Rhys," he said.
A flash of his phone screen caught my attention. The name on the screen made my eyes widen.
"Rhys Powell?" I asked, feeling like a fool for not recognizing him immediately.
He looked surprised for a moment before smiling lazily.
"I get that a lot."
"I'll bet you do," I replied, though we were both thinking about the fame that came with being Rhys Powell, the British actor who was always in the news.
"Can I interest you in anything?" he asked, as if he didn't have a million other things to attend to.
"The coffee shop next door is excellent for a quiet cup," I suggested.
"Glad you approve."
I shrugged. "It's better than our selection here."
"I'll keep that in mind," he said dryly.
"Well, if you'll excuse me—"
Rhys began to turn and leave when I stopped him.
"Actually," I said, "you're welcome to wait a moment. It's not every day we get famous actors in our back room."
He looked at me incredulously.
"I'm offering you refuge from the paparazzi."
"Ah," he said with a grin that was far too charming for its own good.
"Of course. I wouldn't want your fans to mob you."
"So you'll stay for a bit?" he asked, and I couldn't help but notice the way his eyes lingered on mine.
"Only if you have time."
"I do," he said definitively.
And with that, Rhys Powell settled into a chair across from me, the famous actor who had every right to be wherever he pleased, yet chose our humble little bookstore.
"So tell me about yourself," he said, and as he spoke, I found myself wondering if this chance encounter would turn out to be more than just a pleasant surprise.
"Well," I said, "I run the Cozy Corner."
"That's fascinating," he replied.
"I'm sure it is," I muttered under my breath.
"Tell me more," he pressed.
"There isn't much to tell."
He leaned forward. "Come on."
And so began our little exchange, one that was charged with an undercurrent of unspoken chemistry that neither of us could quite ignore.
"You know," Rhys said finally, "I'm glad you offered me shelter. I wasn't sure what else to do."
"I think I'll leave the lights off," I said.
"What?"
"If you're going to stay a while," I said.
"Ah," he replied.
And so we sat there in the dimly lit bookstore, the famous actor and the bookstore owner, each lost in thought about the other.
I glanced up at Rhys. "You know," I said softly, "you could just leave."
"I don't want to," he said.
And with that, Rhys Powell settled into his seat across from me, the famous actor who had every right to be wherever he pleased, yet chose our humble little bookstore.
Perhaps, I thought, this chance encounter would turn out to be more than just a pleasant surprise after all.
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.
(4 experts - temp 1.78, rep pen 1.05 - no other samplers/advanced samplers. )
I sprint down the alleyway, my combat boots thudding against the cobblestones. My breaths come out in ragged puffs and I can hear the heavy footsteps of those who pursue me.
"You're a dead woman," some bastard hisses as he takes another stride to catch up.
Fuck that. Fuck them, fuck this shit government and fuck him. "Fuck you, fuck you all!" I shout at the air. Who gives a damn what happens to me anyway? The bastard in power can execute me but nothing he does is gonna silence me. And fuck if he tries.
I dash around a corner into a broad intersection. My heart thrashes in my chest like it's about to rip its way free of its confines. I whip out a pistol from my jacket and aim it up at the buildings as if it'll actually save me. "Get down!" My own voice nears screams.
The bullets clatter and chip against the pavement, whistling and howling their passage. Some hit the walls while others tear through the wood of the streetlights. Two go through a bus stop stall board just inches from my face as I dive sideways onto the filthy sidewalk.
A chunk of asphalt explodes beside me and then everything goes still and quiet for one sick beat as if time's own breath just left.
A hand lands on my shoulder with surprising strength. "Hold."
I look up at some gothic-punk guy who has his elbow on his opposite shoulder, looking all too amused by what just went down.
"Don't move," he growls as his voice crackles through like it's charged.
And fuck if I do but... my ass is on a plate of gravel. My knees are bent up and the gun's weight in my hand feels like it's all that keeps me from rolling right into traffic.
The guy leans in closer. His breath is warm against the back of my ear. "We've been waiting."
"For?" I rasp like it hurts to breathe.
"For you to wake up." He grins, like he knows a secret that should frighten me.
But what else would know how to scare the shit out of a rebel like me? Only something I can't see coming.
The last thing I remember hearing is his voice laughing. "She's coming." Like whatever that means is going to change everything and then...
BLACKOUT.
END OF SCENE.
(Note: The scene could go on to explain what the rebel is rebelling against or who the gothic punk guy is if he is part of the rebellion too. It could also continue explaining the world, society, etc.)
(8 experts, temp 1.5, rep pen 1.05 - no other samplers/advanced samplers.)
The sky scraper swayed, like a drunken giant lurching through the night. I gripped the edge of my cubicle desk tightly, knuckles white against the cold steel frame. In the flickering fluorescent glow above me, my reflection leered back. Sweat dripped down my temple from the suffocating heat in here.
"Emergency protocols initiated," a mechanical voice droned through the PA system. My heart lurched at the familiar words. Panic began to bubble within me like an overheated liquid. This wasn't some drill or simulation.
A sudden scream pierced the air, shattering the monotony of the night. My eyes shot up to see a colleague crumpling against the window beside me as it shattered outward like glassine. Blood beaded on his skin and pooled in the hollow space left behind where he once stood.
My nails dug into the desk until they bled. What had just happened?! Was that...? That was not a person anymore! A shard of the broken glass still lodged in my own wrist, an agonizing reminder that I could not look away.
The window behind us, on floor twenty-one, exploded with the sound of a detonating grenade. A figure, tiny and distorted within the glass confines, had been obliterated by some unknown force. Its mangled shape remained, frozen in time like a still life painting from hell.
I watched, my blood chilled to ice. The sky scraper swayed, its massive frame trembling like a leaf under the wind's fury. Windows shattered all around us like a dying man's desperate screams as the skyscraper buckled under its own weight.
The sound of glass shattering and people running for their lives faded into nothing as I stood frozen, rooted to my spot. A woman, once a person like the one that had just exploded beyond the glass, lay prone beneath my own legs.
"Ma'am," I croaked. My own voice echoed in this dead silence like a stranger's scream. The woman beneath me was motionless, her back an unnatural curve against the tile. Her lifeless eyes stared upward at nothing but the abyss beyond.
Her body, still warm against mine, had lain there for minutes already. No one else moved in the entire area except myself. Glass fragments littered the floor. Each shard sliced a ragged edge into the silence of our workplace. I squatted down beside this stranger corpse.
My fingers grazed her pulse point delicately, like touching an open electrical wire. Nothing. Not even that slight flutter to let me know she was alive.
My heart sank through the pit of despair to somewhere even darker. Something was wrong in the skyscraper tonight. And it wasn't just the people who had died. It wasn't just the broken glass or the windows blown out like they'd been shattered by some alien force.
There was an emptiness here that my own heart could never fill again. Something that the darkness of this dead zone knew. That it understood through the shattering glass and the bleeding hearts on its floor.
This was not normal, nor right. It was wrong to hurt. Wrong to maim. But it was what they had become. They were something else entirely.
I reached over with trembling hands and scooped up a shard of glass in my fingers, holding it above this lifeless form like it was a precious artifact of the crime committed. Because that's exactly what it was.
We all held pieces of that monstrous, alien entity that roamed our streets and killed at will tonight. And we were forever changed by touching those broken fragments of their shattering world.
