--- license: apache-2.0 language: - en tags: - mixture of experts - moe - 4x7B - 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 --- (2 large examples below (1,2,3 and 4 experts output shown per example)) 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, and this specific combination of models yields unusually vivid and intense prose without "purple" prose elements and without the "overspeak" / "yappiness" common in other AI models. This model's instruction following, and output generation for creative writing, prose, fiction and role play are exceptional. And it is fast: 30+ 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. 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 1, 2, 3, and 4 experts activated. 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: https://huggingface.co/collections/DavidAU/d-au-source-files-for-gguf-exl2-awq-gptq-hqq-etc-etc-66b55cb8ba25f914cbf210be 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: [ https://huggingface.co/DavidAU/Maximizing-Model-Performance-All-Quants-Types-And-Full-Precision-by-Samplers_Parameters ] You can see all parameters used for generation, in addition to advanced parameters and samplers to get the most out of this model here: [ https://huggingface.co/DavidAU/Maximizing-Model-Performance-All-Quants-Types-And-Full-Precision-by-Samplers_Parameters ] 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. --- Start a 1000 word scene (vivid, graphic horror in first person) with: The sky scraper swayed, as she watched the window in front of her on the 21 floor explode... Examples below with 1, 2 ,3 and 4 experts activated. These examples show "the power" coming on as you activate more experts. Generation 1 (1 expert) The skyscraper swayed, as if it were a delicate tower of cards about to topple at any moment. The sound of glass shattering in the distance made me clench my fists, my heart pounding in my chest. I could feel my own pulse throbbing in my neck and forehead, my vision blurring as I focused on the window in front of me on the 21st floor. It had just exploded, sending shards of glass raining down to the streets below. My name is Isla, and I was one of the few remaining inhabitants of this once-thriving metropolis. The city had been overrun with a vile breed of parasites known as "The Infected." They were once human, but now they roamed the streets with an insatiable hunger for human flesh. Their rapid decay and the grotesque mutations that followed made them all the more terrifying. I had taken refuge in this skyscraper, hoping to find a safe haven from the hordes of Infected that swarmed the city like a plague of locusts. I had found a mostly undamaged apartment on the 21st floor and made it my own. I had a stockpile of food and water, as well as a few weapons to help me fend off the Infected should they manage to break through the steel doors of my sanctuary. The building swayed again, and a groan escaped my lips as the shuddering caused my legs to tremble with fear. I had heard that the Infected were attracted to noise, so I did my best to remain silent and still. The fact that the skyscraper was still standing after the initial outbreak was a miracle in itself. I could only hope that the structural integrity would hold long enough for me to find a way out of this nightmare. As I watched the glass shards fall, I realized that the explosion was not an isolated event. The skyscraper's swaying became more pronounced, and I could hear the sounds of breaking glass, wood, and metal throughout the building. It was as if the parasites were systematically dismantling the very foundations of the skyscraper. The building's systems had been offline for years now, so I couldn't rely on the elevator to take me to the ground floor. Instead, I would have to navigate the stairs, avoiding any encounters with the Infected that might have infiltrated the building. I gathered my courage and moved from the safety of my apartment to the nearby stairwell. I could feel the vibrations of the skyscraper shaking as I made my way down floor by floor. The sight of the shattered windows on each level confirmed my worst fears. The parasites were working their way up the building, and I had no idea how long I would have to hide from them before I reached the ground floor. As I descended, I was confronted with a new horror. The Infected had broken through the walls of the stairwell, their decaying forms pressing against the glass that separated us. Their hollow, guttural moans were enough to paralyze me with fear. I could feel their eyes upon me, their hunger for my flesh palpable as they clawed at the glass, trying to get to me. My heart pounded in my chest as I continued my descent, each floor bringing me closer to the safety of the ground. I could hear the Infected following me, their footsteps echoing through the empty corridors. The sound of breaking glass and collapsing walls became a constant reminder of the destruction they were wreaking on the once-mighty skyscraper. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, I reached the ground floor. My legs shook with exhaustion as I stepped out into the open air, the cool breeze a welcome relief from the stifling atmosphere of the building's interior. I could see the city's skyline in the distance, the shattered towers a testament to the chaos that had consumed the metropolis. My escape was short-lived, however, as I was met by a swarm of Infected that had gathered around the perimeter of the building. Their moans and guttural cries filled the air, and they converged upon me like a pack of wild animals. Desperate, I reached for my weapons, knowing full well that they were little more than a deterrent against the mindless horde. I fired a few rounds into the crowd, sending them scurrying back for a moment before their insatiable hunger brought them charging forward once more. I was surrounded on all sides, with the Infected closing in for the kill. I had no choice but to fight, my adrenaline coursing through my veins as I swung wildly with whatever weapons I had left. The Infected tore at my clothing and skin, their claws drawing blood as they relentlessly pursued me. Finally, after what felt like an eternity of combat, I was able to slip away unnoticed through a side alley. I ran as fast as my weary legs would carry me, leaving the city behind with the hope that one day, a cure would be found, and this nightmare would come to an end. Generation 2 (2 expert) My heart raced with every shuddering, creaking groan the ancient skyscraper emitted as it swayed to the unforgiving winds. The city below us had become a distant blur as we reached the precipice of our doom, with each passing second that doom drawing inexorably closer. I watched with bated breath the window in front of me on the 21st floor explode into a spray of shattered glass and rain, my heart aching at the futility of the situation. We were all trapped. The lower floors had long since succumbed to the raging storms and crumbling infrastructure, leaving us high above the city. We'd been stranded for over two days, our only link to the outside world a dying cellular network, providing false hope that help was on its way. It didn't take a rocket scientist to realize we were on our own in the face of this impending disaster. In the silence that followed, my ears ringing from the explosion, the wind howling outside the cracked windows, a familiar odor tickled my nose, drawing me back from the abyss I had found myself slipping into. The scent was that of my grandmother's kitchen, of baking bread and boiling cabbage. In a moment of pure madness, my stomach growled at the reminder of simpler times when the world wasn't crumbling around me. My thoughts were shattered by a sudden jolt, as the skyscraper lunched sideways in a final, desperate attempt to withstand the storm. A shelf full of supplies crashed into the back of my head, knocking me off my feet and into darkness. When consciousness finally returned, the air was heavy with the scent of dust, decay, and fear. My vision was a blur, and I had trouble making sense of what was around me. The light streaming through the broken windows was harsh and unforgiving, revealing a scene from hell. My fellow survivors, reduced to little more than skeletons, were scrambling for what little supplies remained in the chaos. Desperation drove their every move as they tore into packages and devoured what little nourishment they could find. It was a vicious struggle for survival that left no time for compassion or reflection. As they fought over the last remaining bags of food, the building continued its death spiral. The sounds of shattering glass, creaking wood, and collapsing ceilings were constant and deafening, making it almost impossible to think clearly. Eventually, the noise grew so intense that conversation became impossible, reduced to nothing more than grunts, growls, and screams as we fought for the most basic necessities. With the power out, there was no hope for the elevators, leaving us to traverse the winding staircase in a mad scramble for safety. The floorboards beneath us cracked and splintered, causing the building to groan as we passed. The thought of making it to the ground was almost laughable. The streets below would be no safer than we were here, with power lines down, fires raging, and the threat of flash floods. No, our only hope for survival was to ride out the storm, even if that meant our final moments would be spent at the top of the world, in an ancient skyscraper teetering on the edge of oblivion. I had lost track of how many days had passed when, with one last shuddering sigh, the skyscraper crumpled like an aluminum can. We were hurled violently to the side as gravity claimed its prize. The air around me grew cold, and I heard a dull roar, as though an entire mountain range had been set alight. In a blink of an eye, I found myself flying through the air, a sudden calmness overtaking my terror. My final thoughts were a montage of my past, of happier times with my loved ones, my fears for my friends who might still be trapped in the city, and a single, all-encompassing understanding that the world had moved on, and there would be no going back to the life I once knew. With one final thud, I impacted the unforgiving earth, my body a mess of broken bones and shattered flesh. My sight faded to black, as the roaring sounds of the inferno above slowly grew quiet, and my tortured soul was granted release. Generation 3 (3 expert) The skyscraper swayed, and I felt my stomach churn in response. I was perched on a ledge, my back pressed against the cold, metal surface. It was a terrifying vantage point from which to witness the destruction of my home. I clutched my purse tightly, hoping that the flimsy fabric would provide some level of protection against the impending doom. My attention was drawn to the window in front of me on the 21st floor, and I watched in horror as it exploded. The shards of glass rained down like a deadly blizzard, filling the air with a cacophony of breaking glass and piercing screams. I scrambled to my feet, the ledge swaying dangerously beneath me. My heart thumped against my chest in a desperate rhythm, and I knew I had to act quickly. I had to reach my family, to make sure they were okay. I took a deep breath, steadying myself as the building continued to shake. The skyscraper's foundations were being tested to their limits, and it was only a matter of time before the entire structure collapsed. With a renewed sense of urgency, I began to make my way down the side of the building, praying that the ledges would hold my weight. The skyscraper's swaying grew more and more violent, and I could feel my own panic rising with each step. As I descended, the glass shards thinned out, and I could finally see the ground below. It was a distant blur, but it represented my only chance at survival. I reached the 15th floor, where the ledges gave way to a series of fire escapes. Clinging to the rusted metal rungs, I made my way down the escape, praying that my hands wouldn't slip. By the time I reached the 10th floor, my legs were shaking uncontrollably, and I knew I was close to the breaking point. But I couldn't stop now. My family depended on me. The fire escape led to an external staircase, which I used to descend the remaining floors. The skyscraper's groans of pain grew louder with each step, and I knew it was only a matter of time before the whole structure gave way to gravity. I made it to the ground floor, my legs trembling uncontrollably. I stumbled out into the street, looking for a way to reach the subterranean levels where my family was surely taking shelter. The streets were a chaotic mess of fleeing people, broken glass, and overturned vehicles. I forced my way through the crowd, desperate to find my loved ones before it was too late. As I reached the underground parking lot, I could see the evacuation process was well underway. People were being herded into the safety of the subway system, but the lines were long, and panic was setting in among the throng. I searched frantically for my family, but the crowds made it difficult to find them. I called out their names, but the chaos drowned out my voice, and I couldn't be heard above the din. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, I spotted my husband among the crowd. He was standing in line with my children, all three of them wearing their panic on their faces. I pushed my way through the throng, my heart pounding in my chest. When I reached my family, I pulled them into a tight embrace, grateful to have found them before the skyscraper collapsed in a storm of rubble and ash. The earth shook as the final pieces of the skyscraper gave way, and we all knew that our lives would never be the same again. But for now, we had each other, and that was all that mattered. We joined the line to board the subway, my family clinging to me in fear. As we made our way underground, I couldn't help but wonder what the future held for us. We were safe for the moment, but the world around us had changed, and we would have to adapt to survive the aftermath of the catastrophe that had just unfolded. Generation 4 (4 expert) I clutched my chest, the sudden eruption of glass and the resulting shudder of the towering edifice almost making my heart leap out of my body. The room spun violently, a combination of fear and dizziness overwhelming me. The once tranquil panorama outside the windows transformed into a haphazard chaos of twisted metal and shattered glass. My head swam as I struggled to remain upright, the room now listing to a horrific angle. A sudden scream from my left made my heart jump again, drawing my eyes away from the window and towards a small, cluttered area where the noise originated. There, my co-worker and friend, Melanie, was trying to grasp at something falling towards her. I watched in horror as a chunk of the wall gave way, releasing a cascade of bricks that buried Melanie alive. A look of surprise and panic etched her face as the debris crashed into her, her screams fading away under the roar of the building. Trembling, I turned to the door, desperate to find some way to escape the collapsing structure. My foot hit an upturned chair on my way out and I nearly tripped over the mess of overturned furniture. I managed to gain my composure, pushing away any thoughts of panic or desperation. I needed to get to a lower level and find a way out before it was too late. As I made my way through the broken corridors, the lights began to flicker. Then they winked out completely, leaving me in darkness save for the flickering glow from the occasional window. A faint odor of burnt plastic and ozone wafted through the air. A low rumbling started deep inside the building. The foundations shuddered, as if to say farewell. I hurriedly continued my descent towards safety, knowing that time was against me. Reaching the emergency exit on the 13th floor, I opened it and felt a gust of fresh air hit my face. I paused for a moment, breathing in the clean, cool air in sharp contrast to the chaos I had just left behind. The sirens from fire trucks outside alerted me to the imminent arrival of rescue personnel, a brief ray of hope piercing through my heart. I pushed the door open further, preparing to jump the final ten floors down to the pavement below. The sight that greeted me made me freeze in my tracks, a gory mess of flesh and metal that once was a fellow employee sprawled at my feet. Her eyes were still open in death, an expression of surprise or horror frozen on her features. With a groan of despair, I retreated from the door back into the safety of the darkened stairwell, tears rolling down my cheeks as I let myself feel the full weight of what was happening around me. I had to find another way to escape the building, and quick. As the sound of approaching sirens grew closer, a faint, ethereal glow came into view. It appeared as if out of nowhere, a soft white light enveloping the stairs leading up to my floor. Intrigued and with little else to lose, I ascended to where the light seemed the brightest. Once there, I saw a circular opening in the wall that glowed brighter than the rest of the staircase. As the sirens grew nearer and the fire crew prepared to breach the building, I made a split-second decision that would change my life forever. I stepped through the shimmering barrier of light into the unknown, leaving the horror of the collapsing skyscraper and the fading screams of my co-workers behind. Whatever was on the other side could be worse, but at least it wasn't that. ---