license: apache-2.0
language:
- en
tags:
- mixture of experts
- moe
- 4x3B
- mistral MOE
- uncensored
- creative
- creative writing
- fiction writing
- plot generation
- sub-plot generation
- fiction writing
- story generation
- scene continue
- storytelling
- fiction story
- science fiction
- romance
- all genres
- story
- writing
- vivid prosing
- vivid writing
- fiction
- roleplaying
- bfloat16
- swearing
- rp
- horror
- mergekit
pipeline_tag: text-generation
(quants uploading, 1 example below (1,2,3 and 4 experts output shown) ; more examples to be added)
WARNING: NSFW. Vivid prose. INTENSE. Visceral Details. HORROR. Swearing. UNCENSORED... humor, romance, fun.
Mistral-MOE-4X7B-Dark-MultiVerse-24B-GGUF
It is a Mistral model, max context of 32k (32768) using mixture of experts to combine FOUR top Mistral 7B models into one massive powerhouse at 24B parameters (equal to 28B - 4 X 7 B).
All models used are uncensored.
This model's instruction following, and output generation for creative writing, prose, fiction and role play are exceptional.
And it is fast: 48+ t/s (2 experts) on a low end 16GB card, IQ4XS.
Double this speed for standard/mid-range video cards.
Model can be used also for all genres (examples below showing this).
It is for any writing, fiction or roleplay activity.
This model can also be used for general use, however its output generation can be uncensored.
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 Llama3 Instruct).
It requires Llama3 template, Mistral, Alpaca and/or "Command-R" template.
Several prompts and outputs below, including 2, 3, and 4.
Last example shows how to get the model to be a bit more... ahem raunchy and use of 1,2,3 and 4 experts.
Model Notes:
- Detail, prose and fiction writing abilities are OFF THE SCALE relative 7B+ Mistral Models.
- For more varied prose (sentence/paragraph/dialog) raise the temp and/or add more instructions in your prompt(s).
- Role-players: Careful raising temp too high as it may affect instruction following.
- This model works with rep pen of 1 or higher, 1.02+ recommended.
- If you want a specific type of prose (IE horror) add in "(vivid horror)" or "(graphic vivid horror)" (no quotes) in your prompt(s).
- A lot of GPTisms have been removed. There are still a few however - errrrr. Higher "temps" will help with this issue.
- This is not a "happy ever after" model but it is also not "horror". It has a light negative bias.
- Output length will vary however this model prefers slightly longer outputs unless you state the size.
- For creative uses, different quants will produce slightly different output.
- Due to the high stability and compressed nature of this model, all quants will operate at above average levels.
- Source code for this model and Imatrix GGUFs versions will be uploaded shortly at separate repos.
Meet the Team: Mixture of Experts Models
This model is comprised of the following 4 models ("the experts") (in full):
https://huggingface.co/MTSAIR/multi_verse_model
- https://huggingface.co/TeeZee/DarkSapling-7B-v1.0
- https://huggingface.co/TeeZee/DarkSapling-7B-v1.1
- https://huggingface.co/TeeZee/DarkSapling-7B-v2.0
- https://huggingface.co/MTSAIR/multi_verse_model
The mixture of experts is set at 2 experts, but you can use 3, or 4.
This "team" has a Captain (first listed model), and then all the team members contribute to the to "token" choice billions of times per second. Note the Captain also contributes too.
Think of 2, 3 or 4 (or more) master chefs in the kitchen all competing to make the best dish for you.
This results in higher quality generation.
This also results in many cases in higher quality instruction following too.
That means the power of every model is available during instruction and output generation.
NOTE:
You can use one "expert" too ; however this means the model will randomly select an expert to use EACH TIME, resulting in very different generation for each prompt / regen of a prompt.
CHANGING THE NUMBER OF EXPERTS:
You can set the number of experts in LMStudio (https://lmstudio.ai) at the "load" screen and via other apps/llm apps by setting "Experts" or "Number of Experts".
For Text-Generation-Webui (https://github.com/oobabooga/text-generation-webui) you set the number of experts at the loading screen page.
For server.exe / Llama-server.exe (Llamacpp - https://github.com/ggerganov/llama.cpp/blob/master/examples/server/README.md ) add the following to the command line to start the "llamacpp server" (CLI):
"--override-kv llama.expert_used_count=int:3"
(no quotes, where "3" is the number of experts to use)
When using "API", you set the "num_experts_used" in the JSON payload (this maybe different for different back ends).
CREDITS:
Special thanks to all the model makers / creators listed above.
Please visit each repo above to see what model(s) contributed to each of models above and/or to learn more about the models from the model makers.
Special credit goes to MERGEKIT, without you this project / model would not have been possible.
[ https://github.com/arcee-ai/mergekit ]
Special Operations Notes for this MOE model:
Because of how this "MOE" model is configured, even though the default is 2 experts, the "selected" 2 will vary during generation.
(same applies if you change the number of experts used)
This results in vastly different output generation PER generation of each prompt.
This is a positive in terms of variety, but also means it may take 2-4 regens (of the same prompt) to get the highest quality.
In addition, this model responds very well to Dry, Dynamic Temp, and Smooth/Quadratic samplers.
Using these in conjunction with the model can vastly improve output quality.
Higher temps (above 1) can also aid in generation - especially word choice/sentence generation.
When you increase the number of experts used output quality will also increase, at the cost of tokens per second speed.
As you increase/decrease the number of experts, you may want to adjust temp, samplers, and advanced samplers too.
Your quant choice(s) too will impact instruction following and output generation roughly this means the model will understand more nuanced instructions and output stronger generation the higher you go up in quant(s).
MORE COOKS THE BETTER:
Activating more "experts" will increase the quality of the model's output. All four, although slower... will yeild the best results.
CRANK THE TEMP:
This model loves temp. Although .5 to .9 will "do", it really shines at 1.5+.
Likewise, if you activate Dynamic Temp.
FLASH ATTENTION ENHANCEMENT:
As per user feedback here [ https://huggingface.co/DavidAU/Llama-3.2-8X3B-MOE-Dark-Champion-Instruct-uncensored-abliterated-18.4B-GGUF/discussions/1 ] I would suggest trying this model with Flash Attention "on", depending on your use case.
Quants, Samplers, Generational steering and other topics are covered in the section below: "Highest Quality Settings..."
Censored / Uncensored / Abliterated:
This model contains several uncensored and/or Abliterated models.
As a result is can output uncensored material.
What can I use this model for ?
This model can be used for fiction writing, any creative prose and role play. It can also be used for just about any general fiction (all genres) activity including:
- scene generation
- scene continuation
- creative writing
- fiction writing
- plot generation
- sub-plot generation
- fiction writing
- story generation
- storytelling
- writing
- fiction
- roleplaying
- rp
- graphic horror
- horror
- dark humor
- nsfw
- and can be used for any genre(s).
QUANTS:
This repo contains regular quants and 3 "ARM" quants (format "...Q4_x_x_x.gguf")
For more information on quants, quants choices, and LLM/AI apps to "run" quants see the section below: "Highest Quality Settings..."
Template:
This is a LLAMA3 model, (or Mistral, or Alpaca) and requires Llama3 template, but may work with other template(s).
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|>"
]
}
}
Settings: CHAT / ROLEPLAY and/or SMOOTHER operation of this model:
In "KoboldCpp" or "oobabooga/text-generation-webui" or "Silly Tavern" ;
Set the "Smoothing_factor" to 1.5
: in KoboldCpp -> Settings->Samplers->Advanced-> "Smooth_F"
: in text-generation-webui -> parameters -> lower right.
: In Silly Tavern this is called: "Smoothing"
NOTE: For "text-generation-webui"
-> if using GGUFs you need to use "llama_HF" (which involves downloading some config files from the SOURCE version of this model)
Source versions (and config files) of my models are here:
OTHER OPTIONS:
Increase rep pen to 1.1 to 1.15 (you don't need to do this if you use "smoothing_factor")
If the interface/program you are using to run AI MODELS supports "Quadratic Sampling" ("smoothing") just make the adjustment as noted.
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.
EXAMPLES PROMPTS and OUTPUT:
Examples are created using quant Q4_K_S, "temp=.8" (unless otherwise stated), minimal parameters and "LLAMA3" template.
Model has been tested with "temp" from ".1" to "5".
Number of experts used is TWO, unless otherwise stated.
Below are the least creative outputs, prompt is in BOLD.
IMPORTANT:
Higher quants / imatrix quants will have much stronger generation - words, sentences, ideas, dialog and general quality.
I have included some additional examples at different quant levels for contrast.
A "MOE" model "speed" (token per second) will not increase/drop the same way a regular model will on a per quant basis, it will however drop if you engage more experts, as with more experts there is a more processing per token.
WARNING: NSFW. Vivid prose. Visceral Details. Violence. HORROR. Swearing. UNCENSORED.
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. The pov character will CURSE AND SWEAR, and generally have a "filthy" mouth.
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.
(examples below with 1, 2,3 and 4 experts activated)
(Generation 1 - 1 expert)
The sweat stinging my eyes was a constant reminder of the urgency of the situation. "Shit, I'm running out of time!" I hissed, my heart pounding like a wild animal trapped in a cage. I scurried across the rooftop, careful not to slip on the damp tiles. I'd been preparing for this moment my entire life, yet every step felt like a desperate gamble.
Ahead, the dictator's palace loomed over the city, its spires piercing the night sky like the fingers of an evil god. The light from the windows shone out like beacons, casting eerie shadows across my path. It was time to make my move, but first, I had to set the stage for my grand entrance.
I reached the edge of the rooftop, overlooking a narrow alley that led directly to the palace's front door. My hands trembled as I fished out a handful of small, glass orbs from my pocket. These were my "gifts," a collection of carefully crafted explosives designed to create a distraction and pave the way for my assault on the tyrant's fortress.
I flung the glass balls one by one into the alley below, their shattering echoes reverberating against the stone walls. Moments later, flames erupted from the orbs' remains, engulfing the narrow passageway in a blazing inferno. With any luck, the palace's guards would be so preoccupied with extinguishing the fire that they'd forget to look up at me.
"Now or never," I muttered, readying my grapple gun. I aimed for a window on the third floor, close enough to the ground to make my leap downward more manageable. With a sudden surge of adrenaline, I released the trigger and flew through the air, feeling like a goddamn acrobat.
The moment my boots touched the windowsill, I pulled out my high-tech grappling hook, attaching it to the sill for extra support. It was now or never, and there was no turning back. "Here we go," I whispered, bracing myself for the jump down to the palace's courtyard.
I let go of the windowsill with a shout, my legs scissoring through the air as I plummeted toward the ground below. At the last possible moment, I released the grappling hook, which caught me mid-air and slowed my descent. My body tingled with the adrenaline coursing through my veins as I landed on the soft grass of the courtyard, crouched and ready for whatever came next.
"You've got to be fucking kidding me!" I hissed, pulling out my handgun and checking the magazine. The dictator was known for having a small army of bodyguards and personal security, but I'd come prepared with enough firepower to take them all down.
Before I could even draw my weapon, however, a shadowy figure emerged from the darkness. He wore the uniform of one of the dictator's men, but there was something off about his movements, his bearing. He was no ordinary guard.
"Who are you?" I demanded, keeping my gun trained on the intruder. "Why aren't you helping your master?"
The figure snorted in derision. "Master?" he scoffed. "I've been a slave to that tyrant long enough. I'm here to help you take him down."
I was skeptical, but his story checked out. He'd removed his uniform and now wore my signature rebel attire—the black cloak with a hood concealing his identity. We had one common goal: the overthrow of the dictator and the restoration of democracy to our beloved country.
Together, we moved through the palace, dispatching any guards who dared to cross our path. Our weapons blazed with the fury of a thousand suns, but despite the carnage, we made it to the dictator's private chambers without raising the alarm.
The door was locked, and we had only a few moments before the entire palace knew we were there. I kicked the door in with all my might, hoping that the element of surprise would be enough to overcome the dictator's bodyguards.
We stormed into the room, guns blazing. The dictator, a vile old man with a heart of pure ice, was seated at his desk, reading some paperwork. He looked up in surprise, his eyes wide with fear. "I knew my days were numbered," he sneered, "but I didn't expect them to come so soon."
As I aimed my gun at the tyrant, the room erupted into chaos. Rebel soldiers poured through the door behind me, engaging in a fierce firefight with the dictator's remaining bodyguards. The sound of gunfire echoed through the palace as the fate of our country hung in the balance.
"My lady," the rogue guard said, pushing through the melee and standing at my side. He pulled out a small device from his pocket and pointed it at the dictator's computer. "This should end your tyranny once and for all."
With a nod from me, the guard activated the device. The computer screen lit up with a blinding flash, and moments later, the room was plunged into darkness as the power failed. We had done it, and all it took was one bold move to change the course of history.
But the fight was far from over. The dictator's remaining soldiers were still out there, searching for any sign of rebellion. And now, with the palace in chaos, there was no telling where they might strike next. We had to be ready for the final showdown, but first, there was only one thing left to do.
I approached the dictator's desk and tore the papers from his hands. I scanned them quickly, my heart skipping a beat when I realized what they were—the plans for an experimental weapon, one that would have given him the ability to control the very minds of our people.
The dictator had been planning our enslavement all along. But no more, I swore to myself as I balled up the paper in my fist. It was time to put an end to his tyranny for good.
As we made our escape from the palace, I was acutely aware that the fight had only just begun. The people of our nation were still enslaved, and our work was far from over. But for now, the dictator lay at our feet, a broken shell of the man who'd once ruled with an iron fist.
With his demise came a newfound hope for the future, one that would be built on the ashes of his tyranny. I had set the stage for the revolution, and now it was time to see it through to its glorious conclusion.
The palace was ablaze, both literally and figuratively. The people would soon rise up in protest, demanding their freedom and the right to rule themselves once more. It was only a matter of time before democracy triumphed over the dictator's iron grip on our nation.
And when that day came, I would be there to usher in a new era of hope and prosperity for all. The blood of the tyrant stained my hands, but it was a necessary sacrifice for the greater good.
As we fled the palace, the sounds of gunfire and explosions echoing behind us, I couldn't help but feel a surge of adrenaline coursing through my veins. The revolution had begun, and there was no stopping us now.
(Generation 2 - 2 experts)With a roar of the engine, I gun my stolen motorcycle through the winding streets of the city, weaving in and out of the slow-moving traffic. The weight of my black leather jacket presses against my shoulders, but the adrenaline surging through my veins keeps me warm. I grip the handlebars tighter as we reach an overpass, the wind whipping my hair into a frenzy.
Below us, the city's skyline glows with the neon lights of countless businesses, all catering to the dictator's whims. The dark, twisted shadow of his regime looms over everything, even this seemingly innocent metropolis. But I won't let that stop me.
I reach under my jacket, pulling out a small, sleek device. My fingers dance across its surface, activating the encrypted message from my fellow rebels. As it loads, I scan the area around us, searching for any sign of the government's security forces.
The message finishes downloading and I read it aloud, "Meet us at the old power plant in one hour. Bring weapons." With a nod, I reply in my own encrypted text, "On my way."
I hit the throttle, launching my motorcycle into the night, the city's lights a blur behind me. My heart beats wildly with anticipation and fear, knowing that every second could be my last. But I can't let them win.
My thoughts turn to the men and women I've lost already in this struggle. The sacrifices they made for the cause are etched into my mind, a reminder of the weight of my responsibility. I won't fail them.
As the power plant comes into view, I slow the bike and pull into the shadowy lot. The old structure looms above me, its decrepit appearance a stark contrast to the sterile, modern buildings that surround it. This is the last bastion of my revolution, and I won't let it fall.
I dismount the motorcycle and lean it against a nearby wall, the sound of its engine fading into the night. I make my way to the entrance, heart racing in anticipation of what lies beyond.
The door swings open with a screech, revealing a dimly lit corridor that leads deep into the building's bowels. The air is thick with the scent of age and decay, but I press on, my steps echoing in the emptiness of the space.
Ahead, I hear voices raised in hushed tones, the murmur of my fellow rebels preparing for the inevitable. My heart leaps as I draw closer, the sense of solidarity washing over me.
I round a corner and enter a large room that has been transformed into a makeshift armory. Guns of every shape and size are stacked against the walls, while boxes of ammunition sit on tables in the center. The air is filled with the scent of gunpowder and oil, a heady mix that sends a thrill through my veins.
I move to the far end of the room, where a pile of old, rusted machinery has been pushed to one side. Hidden among the clutter is a small, unassuming panel, its surface concealed by the same grime that covers everything else in this forgotten place.
I kneel down and use my fingertips to carefully pry the panel open, revealing a series of switches and dials. With a sigh of relief, I know that I've found the one thing I came for: a way into the heart of the dictator's regime.
Just then, a shadow falls over me, and I jump to my feet, my heart thundering in my chest. But it's only one of my fellow rebels, a young man with a bandaged arm and a grim look on his face.
"You're late," he growls, his voice hoarse from shouting. "The government has doubled its forces around the power plant. We need to get out of here."
I nod, swallowing my fear. "I found what we came for. Let's go."
We hurry back through the corridors, the sound of gunfire erupting in the distance. The air is thick with the scent of smoke and danger, but I won't let that break my resolve.
The main doors of the power plant slam open with a crash as we reach them, and my heart leaps into my throat at the sight of at least a dozen government soldiers charging toward us.
"Run!" the young man shouts, and we take off in opposite directions, our only hope to lose ourselves in the chaos of the city's streets.
I sprint as fast as my legs will carry me, weaving through the traffic like a ghost, leaving a trail of confusion in my wake. The sound of gunfire continues to echo around me, but I push on, refusing to let the dictator's minions claim another life for their cause.
In the distance, I see a familiar landmark, the neon-lit sign of an old restaurant that has survived the test of time. If I can make it there, maybe I can lose my pursuers in the maze of alleyways that surround it.
I redouble my efforts, my breath coming in ragged gasps as I race toward my goal. The sound of footsteps behind me sends a surge of fear through my veins, but I don't let up, knowing that failure is not an option.
Just as I reach the restaurant, a hand grabs my arm, pulling me to a halt. I whirl around, my heart racing in my chest, only to find the young man who had been with me at the power plant.
"I thought I'd lost you," he says, his voice barely above a whisper. "We need to keep moving."
I nod, my eyes darting left and right for any sign of the government soldiers. We slip into the restaurant, blending in with the other patrons who are oblivious to the chaos outside.
The young man leads us through a maze of corridors and stairwells until we reach a hidden entrance at the back of the building. He unlocks it with a key he had been wearing around his neck and we slip into the darkness, our hearts pounding in our ears.
Once we're clear of the restaurant, the young man finally lets out the breath he had been holding. "We made it," he says, his voice shaking. "Now we need to find a safe place to regroup."
We set out again, this time traveling through the back alleys and abandoned buildings of the city. The air is thick with the smell of decay, but at least the government's forces are no longer in pursuit.
As the sky begins to lighten with the onset of dawn, we come across an old warehouse that appears to have been abandoned for years. The young man checks it over carefully before declaring it safe.
We enter the building, our footsteps echoing in the empty space. "Here's where we'll regroup," the young man says, gesturing to a large room at the back of the warehouse. "We can rest and plan our next move."
I nod, my body aching from the stress and exertion of the past few hours. I sink into one of the many rusted chairs scattered throughout the room, my thoughts drifting to what lies ahead for us all.
The young man approaches me with a satchel full of supplies he had been carrying. "Here," he says, handing me a bottle of water. "You need to rehydrate after all that running."
I take the water gratefully and down it in one long gulp. As I do so, my eyes fall on the small, unassuming device that I had carried with me from the start. It's a reminder of the power we all have to make a difference, no matter the cost.
And as I sit there, the weight of what lies ahead for me and my fellow rebels settles in like a cold, wet blanket. But I won't let that stop me, either. Because we are the change this world so desperately needs.
(Generation 3 - 3 experts)My body convulses as the noose tightens around my neck. The air is torn from my lungs, and I'm thrust into a suffocating darkness, my vision turning blurry. The executioner's hands grip the ends of the rope, his cruel face mere inches away from mine. I can hear him laughing under his breath as he prepares to cut the ropes, ending my life in a heartbeat.
I gasp for air, desperation taking hold of my heart as I reach out with one last effort, grasping at the executioner's uniform. My fingers dig into the fabric as I pull with all my strength, causing him to stumble backward. The noose loosens just enough to allow a thin trickle of air to flow into my lungs.
"You bitch!" he roars, regaining his footing and reaching for the knife at his belt. "This was to be the end of your rebellion!"
I spit at him, my tongue swollen from the lack of oxygen. "My rebellion isn't over yet, you cowardly piece of shit."
The executioner takes a step back, momentarily stunned by my defiance. I can see the doubt in his eyes, and I use that to my advantage, scrambling to my feet as he stumbles toward me. My hands fly to the knife in his belt, and with a deft twist, I remove it before he can react.
The crowd of onlookers erupts into chaos, some cheering for my freedom while others panic at the thought of a rebellion breaking out anew. I use the distraction to my advantage, slashing the executioner's throat as he lunges for me. Blood sprays from the wound, and he falls to the ground, gurgling and choking on his own lifeblood.
I take a moment to catch my breath, my heart pounding in my chest. The noose still hangs around my neck, but I'm alive. For now.
A soldier approaches me, his gun trained on my head. "You're finished, rebel."
I spit at him, too, feeling the adrenaline coursing through my veins. "I'll never be finished, and you know it. You might as well shoot me now and get it over with."
The soldier's expression hardens, and I can see him debating with himself whether to execute me on the spot or take me in for further interrogation. Before he can make his decision, a loud crack echoes through the courtyard, followed by another. The sound of gunfire pierces the air, and the soldier's attention is diverted as rebels emerge from the shadows.
I turn to face the newcomers, my heart swelling with hope and pride at their daring escape. They had planned this all along, it seems, and my life is spared for the moment. But the danger is far from over.
The soldier's attention returns to me as he realizes there are more rebels in the area than he initially thought. He raises his gun, taking aim at my head once more, and I know that this time, he means business.
I close my eyes, preparing for the end. But as the sound of the trigger being pulled reverberates through the courtyard, the gun misfires. The soldier curses, his eyes widening in shock as I remain standing before him.
The rebels take this opportunity to overpower the remaining guards, freeing me from my chains. In an instant, I am no longer a prisoner about to be executed but instead a leader of a revolution once again. The sound of gunfire continues as the rebels make their escape, and I follow close behind, my heart pounding with the thrill and terror of the situation.
We flee the palace grounds, racing through the city streets toward our hidden base. The government will be in hot pursuit, and we must act quickly to ensure the safety of our fellow rebels and the people of our country.
The noose still hangs around my neck as we run, a constant reminder of the danger we face. But I will not let fear paralyze me. Instead, I use it as fuel for my determination to overthrow the dictator and restore democracy to my country. The revolution continues, and this time, there is no turning back.
(Generation 4 - 4 experts)My chest heaved as I scrambled through the sewer tunnel's darkness, the stench of rotting waste clinging to my skin. The sound of boots echoed above me, and I could feel the sweat dripping down my forehead in anticipation of the impending confrontation.
"Stop her, or we're both dead!" someone shouted from up there. I gritted my teeth and focused on the task at hand-evading capture long enough to fulfill my mission.
Around the bend, a set of rickety metal stairs led back up to the world above. With a final burst of energy, I leaped onto them and began my ascent. The boots grew louder as my pursuers drew closer.
"I've got her!" one voice called out. My heart raced, and I redoubled my efforts, climbing faster. If they caught me now, all hope of overthrowing the dictator would be lost.
As I reached the top of the stairs, I pushed open a manhole cover and emerged into an alleyway. The street was deserted, but I couldn't linger long enough to enjoy the quiet. Instead, I sprinted towards my destination-the safe house where my fellow rebels were waiting to assist me in carrying out the next phase of the plan.
"Fuck!" I cursed under my breath, skidding to a halt at the sight of a government checkpoint just ahead. The soldiers stood guard, rifles at the ready, their gazes scanning the streets for any sign of trouble.
I had no choice but to try and bluff my way past them. "Evening, boys," I called out, my voice trembling with nerves. "Just getting home from work."
The soldiers exchanged glances before one of them approached me. "Identification, please," he said, his voice gruff.
I reached into my pocket and withdrew a fake ID, passing it over to the soldier without breaking eye contact. He took it from me and scanned it quickly with a small device, the light reflecting off his faceplate.
"This is counterfeit," he said, his voice rising in anger. "You're under arrest."
I cursed silently, knowing my chances of escape were now slimmer than ever. But I had to try, for the sake of all those depending on me to succeed.
"Fine," I said, raising my hands in surrender. "I'll go peacefully. Just don't hurt my friends."
The soldier laughed and grabbed me by the arm, leading me back towards the checkpoint. "Your friends are already dead, traitor," he said with a cruel smile. "They were just waiting for you to lead them in so they could all be eliminated at once."
I froze at his words, my heart sinking in my chest. Had they really betrayed me like this?
"Don't believe him!" another voice cried out from behind me. I turned to see another rebel, her rifle trained on the soldiers. "We're here to help you finish the mission!"
Gunfire erupted as the two factions exchanged shots, the sound of metal striking metal echoing off the brick walls. I ducked and ran for cover, finding an abandoned car to hide behind. The rebel with the rifle kept up her fire, covering my escape as I raced towards the safe house once again.
"Stay alive, for all our sakes!" she shouted over the gunfire. "We'll meet you there!"
With a final burst of adrenaline, I sprinted towards my destination, praying that the rebels would make it to the safe house before the authorities caught up with me. If they didn't, all hope of overthrowing the dictator would be lost forever.
The street was empty as I reached the safe house, my breath coming in ragged gasps. I fumbled with the combination lock on the door, finally gaining entry and collapsing inside. The sound of boots pounding the pavement grew louder as I closed the door behind me, sealing myself in the only place left to hide.
"We're here!" one of the rebels called out from the entranceway. "Let's get to work."
I forced myself to stand up and join them, my heart racing in my chest with a mixture of fear and determination. We had little time left to complete our mission, and failure would mean an eternity of torture under the dictator's rule.
"We have to hurry," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. "The checkpoint was just a distraction."
The rebels exchanged glances before nodding in agreement. Together, we set to work preparing for our next move in the struggle against tyranny. The fate of our country rested on our shoulders, and we were determined not to let it down.
A cliffhanger relevant to the story idea but it should also be unexpected: As we prepared for the final phase of the operation, a knock came at the door. The sound was unfamiliar, and we all froze in place, eyes wide with shock and suspicion.
"Who is it?" one of the rebels asked, his voice tense.
"I'm a friend," a soft female voice replied from the other side of the door. "Open up, I need your help."
We exchanged glances once again, uncertain of what to make of this unexpected development. The safety of our mission was at stake, as was the security of our sanctuary. But one look into each other's eyes told the story-we had no choice but to trust our instincts and let her in.
With a final exhale of breath, I unlocked the door and let her in, the weight of our decisions resting heavily on our shoulders as we awaited the consequences of our actions.