by gabriel666smith | 2025-11-18 22:59:17+00:00
Interestingly, Gemini 3 Pro Thinking clocks in at 2nd place - behind Horizon Alpha, but ahead of any actually-released model checkpoints - on the TvP Benchmark, with a score of 71.8%.

This blows Sonnet 4.5 (64.8%), GPT5.1 (58.7%) and Opus 4.1 (66.3%) away.

An example output:

'''

The cabin was cold. It smelled of pine needles and old dust. Bryan sat on the porch with a glass of scotch balanced on his knee. It was cheap scotch. He missed the good stuff, but he wasn't in Paris anymore, and he certainly wasn't in Beverly Hills.

He checked his watch. It was a bulky thing, black rubber. He checked the Glock on the table next to him. That was black, too.

"I told you," Bryan said. He wasn't talking to anyone. "I told you not to go into the woods."

He was thinking about Kim. He was always thinking about Kim. She was safe, probably. At a mall in Santa Monica. Or maybe a library. But it felt like she was gone. It always felt like she was gone.

The trees at the edge of the clearing shifted. There wasn't any wind. The air was heavy and humid, unusual for October. A bird stopped singing. Then the crickets stopped. It got very quiet.

Bryan took a sip of the scotch. It burned his throat. He liked the burn. It reminded him he was still there.

Three red dots appeared on his chest. They made a small triangle.

Bryan didn't look at them. He set the glass down on the railing. He picked up the phone. It was an old flip phone. He pressed a button.

"I don't know who you are," Bryan said into the phone. "I don't know what you want. If you are looking for ransom, I can tell you I don't have money."

The leaves rustled. A shape began to form out of the empty air. It looked like heat rising off the highway in August. It was tall. Much taller than a man.

"But what I do have," Bryan said, "are a very particular set of skills."

The shape solidified. It was ugly. It had skin like a lizard and dreadlocks that looked like heavy black cables. It wore a metal mask. It made a clicking sound. Click-click-click. Like a Geiger counter.

"Skills I have acquired over a very long career," Bryan said. He stood up. His knees popped. He felt the ache in his lower back. He was getting too old for this.

The thing roared. It wasn't a human sound. It was a wet, guttural noise.

"I will look for you," Bryan said. He put the phone in his pocket. "I will find you."

The creature raised a metal gauntlet. Two jagged blades slid out. They caught the moonlight.

"And I will kill you," Bryan said.

He raised the Glock and fired twice. Pop-pop.

The creature didn't fall. It took a step forward. Green blood, thick and glowing, leaked from its shoulder. It looked like antifreeze. The creature touched the wound, then looked at its hand. It seemed surprised.

Bryan didn't wait. He moved off the porch. He moved fast for a man his age. He went left, toward the woodpile. The creature fired a blast of blue light from its shoulder. It hit the porch swing. The swing exploded. Wood splinters rained down like confetti.

Bryan rolled behind the logs. He breathed in. He breathed out. He could hear the heavy footsteps crunching the dry leaves. Crunch. Crunch.

"You're big," Bryan whispered. "That makes you slow."

He grabbed a splitting maul from the stump. It was heavy. The handle was smooth hickory.

The creature came around the woodpile. It was scanning the trees. It didn't see Bryan down low. Bryan swung the maul. He put his hips into it. He swung it like he was chopping a cord of oak.

The blade hit the creature in the knee. There was a snap. A loud, wet snap.

The thing howled. It fell onto one knee.

Bryan dropped the maul. He stepped inside the creature’s reach. He knew exactly where to hit. The throat. The armpit. The soft spot under the ribs. He hit the creature three times, hard chops with the side of his hand. It was like hitting a brick wall, but he felt something give.

The creature swung its arm back. It hit Bryan in the chest.

Bryan flew backward. He hit the dirt. The wind went out of him. He lay there for a second, staring up at the stars. They looked very far away. He wondered if Lenore was looking at the same stars. Probably not. She was probably sleeping.

He sat up. His ribs hurt. Maybe broken.

The creature was trying to stand. It was clicking again. It tapped something on its wrist. A series of red symbols started flashing. They counted down.

Bryan knew a bomb when he saw one.

"No," Bryan said.

He tackled the thing. He didn't think about it. He just did it. He grabbed the creature’s arm. He twisted the wrist mechanism. He’d seen something like it in Baghdad once. Or maybe Istanbul. The memories ran together now.

He ripped the gauntlet loose. Wires sparked. He threw it as hard as he could into the darkness of the woods.

Three seconds later, there was a flash. A boom. A shockwave that shook the pine needles from the trees.

Silence came back.

The creature lay on the ground. It was breathing shallowly. The green blood was pooling under it. It took off its mask.

The face was hideous. Mandibles. Beady eyes. It looked at Bryan. It said something, a garbled copy of Bryan's own voice.

"...good luck..."

Then it died. It just stopped.

Bryan stood up. He dusted off his pants. He walked back to the porch. The swing was gone. The railing was scorched.

His glass of scotch was still sitting there, untouched. The ice hadn't even melted.

He picked it up. He took a drink. It still tasted cheap.

He took his phone out and looked at it. No service.

"Well," he said.

He went inside the cabin and locked the door. He sat on the couch and waited for the sun to come up. He hoped Kim would call. He really hoped she would call.

'''