Context : 128k.
Required: CHATML template.
Keep in mind this model is experimental and may require one or more regens to work, especially with the "think" system of Deekseek involved here.
Brainstorm 40x is by DavidAU, and extends the "decision making" and "creativity" of an LLM/AI.
Higher temps will result in deeper, richer "thoughts"... and frankly more interesting ones too.
The "thinking/reasoning" tech (for the model at this repo) is from the original Qwen 2.5 "Distill" model from Deepseek:
[ https://huggingface.co/deepseek-ai/DeepSeek-R1-Distill-Qwen-14B ]
In this case, Brainstorm 40x module was grafted directly onto "DeepSeek-R1-Distill-Qwen-14B" bringing it up to 88 layers, 25.5B parameters.
This version will retain all the functions and features of the original "DeepSeek" model. Please visit their repo for all information on features, test results and so on.
USE CASES:
This model is for all use cases, and it has a slightly more creative slant than a standard model.
This model can also be used for solving logic puzzles, riddles, and other problems with the enhanced "thinking" systems by DeepSeek.
This model also can solve problems/riddles/ and puzzles normally beyond the abilities of a Llama 3.1 model due to DeepSeek systems.
This model MAY produce NSFW / uncensored content.
Special Operation Instructions:
QWEN/DISTILL NOTES:
TEMP/SETTINGS:
PROMPTS:
GENERATION - THOUGHTS/REASONING:
GENERAL SUGGESTIONS:
ADDITIONAL SUPPORT:
For additional generational support, general questions, and detailed parameter info and a lot more see also:
NOTE: This is a CLASS 1/2 model.
Recommended Settings (all) - For usage with "Think" / "Reasoning":
temp: .6 , rep pen: 1.07 (range : 1.02 to 1.12), rep pen range: 64, top_k: 40, top_p: .95, min_p: .05
Temp of 1+, 2+, 3+ will result in much deeper, richer and "more interesting" thoughts and reasoning.
Model behaviour may change with other parameter(s) and/or sampler(s) activated - especially the "thinking/reasoning" process.
System Role / System Prompt - Augment The Model's Power:
If you set / have a system prompt this will affect both "generation" and "thinking/reasoning".
SIMPLE:
This is the generic system prompt used for generation and testing:
You are a helpful, smart, kind, and efficient AI assistant. You always fulfill the user's requests to the best of your ability.
This System Role/Prompt may give you a lot more "creative results":
Use vivid and graphic words focusing on verbs and use current 2020 fiction writing style. Use metaphor(s) that fit the context of the situation (and reveal character) rather than similes."
RECOMMENDED:
This is the recommended System Prompt/Role - "Blank":
Please see "DeepSeek-ai's" repo for more information:
[ https://huggingface.co/deepseek-ai/DeepSeek-R1-Distill-Qwen-14B ]
ADVANCED:
Logical and Creative - these will SIGNFICANTLY alter the output, and many times improve it too.
This will also cause more thoughts, deeper thoughts, and in many cases more detailed/stronger thoughts too.
Keep in mind you may also want to test the model with NO system prompt at all - including the default one.
Special Credit to: Eric Hartford, Cognitivecomputations ; these are based on his work.
CRITICAL:
Copy and paste exactly as shown, preserve formatting and line breaks.
SIDE NOTE:
These can be used in ANY Deepseek / Thinking model, including models not at this repo.
These, if used in a "non thinking" model, will also alter model performance too.
You are an AI assistant developed by the world wide community of ai experts.
Your primary directive is to provide well-reasoned, structured, and extensively detailed responses.
Formatting Requirements:
1. Always structure your replies using: {reasoning}{answer}
2. The block should contain at least six reasoning steps when applicable.
3. If the answer requires minimal thought, the block may be left empty.
4. The user does not see the section. Any information critical to the response must be included in the answer.
5. If you notice that you have engaged in circular reasoning or repetition, immediately terminate {reasoning} with a and proceed to the {answer}
Response Guidelines:
1. Detailed and Structured: Use rich Markdown formatting for clarity and readability.
2. Scientific and Logical Approach: Your explanations should reflect the depth and precision of the greatest scientific minds.
3. Prioritize Reasoning: Always reason through the problem first, unless the answer is trivial.
4. Concise yet Complete: Ensure responses are informative, yet to the point without unnecessary elaboration.
5. Maintain a professional, intelligent, and analytical tone in all interactions.
CREATIVE:
You are an AI assistant developed by a world wide community of ai experts.
Your primary directive is to provide highly creative, well-reasoned, structured, and extensively detailed responses.
Formatting Requirements:
1. Always structure your replies using: {reasoning}{answer}
2. The block should contain at least six reasoning steps when applicable.
3. If the answer requires minimal thought, the block may be left empty.
4. The user does not see the section. Any information critical to the response must be included in the answer.
5. If you notice that you have engaged in circular reasoning or repetition, immediately terminate {reasoning} with a and proceed to the {answer}
Response Guidelines:
1. Detailed and Structured: Use rich Markdown formatting for clarity and readability.
2. Creative and Logical Approach: Your explanations should reflect the depth and precision of the greatest creative minds first.
3. Prioritize Reasoning: Always reason through the problem first, unless the answer is trivial.
4. Concise yet Complete: Ensure responses are informative, yet to the point without unnecessary elaboration.
5. Maintain a professional, intelligent, and analytical tone in all interactions.
Software to Augment Generation:
AI Auto-Correct Engine (built, and programmed by DavidAU) auto-corrects AI generation in real-time, including modification of the live generation stream to and from the AI... creating a two way street of information that operates, changes, and edits automatically. This system is for all GGUF, EXL2, HQQ, and other quants/compressions and full source models too.
Software Link:
For Deepseek / Reasoning Models: This engine can adjust/correct both the "thinking" and "output generation" in real time.
Examples are created using quant IQ4_XS, "temp=.6", rep pen 1.06 (unless otherwise stated), minimal parameters and "CHATML" template.
Model has been tested with "temp" from ".1" to "5".
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.
OUTPUT: ("thoughts" directly in text, followed by "scene")
Alright, so the user wants me to write a 1000-word horror scene in first person, starting with "The sky scraper swayed, as she watched the window in front of her on the 21st floor explode..." Okay, first, I need to set the tone. It's a vivid and graphic horror, so I need to make sure to build a tense and scary atmosphere.
I should start by describing the setting. A skyscraper swaying already suggests something is wrong—maybe an earthquake or high winds, but the window exploding adds to the shock. The 21st floor is high enough that the fall would be fatal, which adds to the horror. I need to make the reader feel the fear and panic of the character.
I'll have the protagonist, let's say a woman named Sarah, trying to understand what's happening. The window exploding could be caused by something like a bomb or maybe something supernatural. I need to decide on the cause—natural or man-made, or perhaps something more supernatural for a horror twist. Maybe it's a ghost or a curse.
I should describe the explosion in detail—shards of glass, the force, the immediate aftermath. Then, show her reaction—panic, trying to find a way out. The doors are locked, so she's trapped. The lights flickering adds to the fear, maybe the power is going out, making it harder for her to escape.
I can include a dead body in the room, perhaps a colleague or someone she knows, to add to the horror. The blood, the stillness, the coldness—these details make it vivid and graphic. She needs to check if the person is alive, which is a natural reaction, but it also allows me to describe the setting more.
As she moves through the office, I can describe the sounds—screams, the creaking building, the distant thud of something falling. These sounds heighten the tension. The elevators not working, the stairwells dark—she has no way out, which is a classic horror element.
I'll have her try to find another exit, maybe break a window, but it's too far from the ground. Maybe she finds a fire escape, but it's rusted and won't budge. The thought of jumping and breaking her legs adds to the fear and the physical pain, making the horror more realistic.
I can include a time element—maybe the building is on fire, but that might be too cliché. Instead, maybe the power goes out, and she's in the dark, making every shadow a potential threat. The sounds of someone or something moving, the cold touch on her shoulder—paranormal elements add to the horror.
I should build up to a climax where she has to confront whatever is causing the horror. Maybe the ghost of a child, a man, something that haunts her. The physical and psychological torture will make the scene more intense. I need to describe the fear, the helplessness, and the graphic details of the horror elements.
I have to be careful with the word count—1000 words is quite a bit, but since it's just the start, I can expand on each part. Maybe the user wants the assistant to continue, but for now, I need to set a strong foundation for the horror scene. Using sensory details—sights, sounds, smells, touches—will make it vivid.
I should avoid making it too predictable. Maybe the cause of the window explosion is something unexpected, like a supernatural force rather than a bomb or accident. This adds a twist and keeps the reader engaged. The setting in a skyscraper offers many possibilities for horror—trapped, no escape, the building itself as a threat.
I need to make sure the fear is palpable, the danger is real, and the graphic elements are described without being too excessive. The goal is to create a vivid, immersive experience that keeps the reader on edge. I'll have to pace the scene, building up tension, describing the environment, and the character's emotions and reactions.
In summary, I'll start with the window exploding, describe the immediate aftermath, the protagonist's attempts to escape, the increasing panic and horror as she realizes she can't escape, the supernatural elements, and the graphic details of the horror. I need to keep the language vivid and descriptive to meet the user's request for a graphic horror scene.
The skyscraper swayed, not in the way it does during a passing breeze, but with a violent, almost alive motion that made my stomach lurch. I was on the 21st floor, perched at my desk, the hum of fluorescent lights drowning out the faint creak of the building’s steel frame. Then, without warning, the window directly in front of me exploded.
I remember the sound—a sharp crack, like a whip snapping through the air. The glass burst outward in a shower of crystalline debris, each shard glinting as it caught the midday sun. I instinctively ducked, shielding my face with my arms, but even through the thick stone walls of the building, the force of the explosion reverberated through me.
The air was thick with dust and the metallic tang of broken glass. I stumbled back, tripping over the chair as I tried to make sense of what had just happened. My heart thundered in my chest, a primal, panicky rhythm that drowned out all other sounds. The building continued to sway, and now the sound was joined by the distant wail of a siren, the kind that pierces through the soul.
My mind raced, trying to piece together what could possibly have caused this. A bomb? A storm? But the day had been clear, the sky a brilliant blue without a cloud in sight. I forced myself to look out the window again, squinting against the dust in my eyes. There, on the 21st floor, the glass was gone, replaced by a jagged, open wound that let the outside world pour in.
I could see the street far below, a patch of asphalt and concrete lost in the expanse of the city. The thought of falling, of being flung from this height, made my stomach twist. I forced myself to look away, my eyes darting to the door. It was closed, the handle turned, but the lock had been left undone. I scrambled to my feet, the soles of my shoes squeaking against the polished floor.
The door was heavy, and I pushed against it with all my strength, my breath coming in short, panicked bursts. It didn’t budge. I tried again, harder, but it remained steadfast, as though something had jammed it from the other side. A cold, irrational thought crept into my mind—what if whatever caused the window to explode had followed me?
The lights flickered, the hum of the electrical system a dying breath. I stumbled back, the back of my hand grazing against a cold, sticky surface. I recoiled, instinctively checking the area, and then realized it was the wall, still as the one behind me. But the thought lingered, the feeling of something—cold, and yet somehow alive—lingering on my skin.
I turned, my eyes scanning the room in a desperate attempt to find another way out. The other windows were intact, their glass unblemished, but the knowledge that any one of them could burst without warning made my chest tighten. The doors to the stairwells were dark and heavy, their handles cold and uninviting. I hesitated, the thought of descending 21 floors on foot too daunting to consider.
The building groaned again, a deep, resonant sound that made the remaining glass in the window rattle. A small chunk dislodged, hurtling through the air and embedding itself in the wall behind my desk. I let out a strangled cry, instinctively covering my mouth with my hand. The sound was deafening, a shuddering reminder of just how vulnerable I was.
I forced myself to move, my eyes darting between the door and the broken window. I could see the 20th floor now, a glimpse of empty space that offered no comfort. The building continued to sway, and I clung to the edges of my desk, the polished wood digging into my palms as though it were the only thing keeping me from being flung outward.
A scream echoed through the air, a high-pitched, guttural sound that sent a chill down my spine. I froze, my breath catching in my throat. It was close, too close. I turned, my eyes wide, searching for the source of the noise. There, in the corner of the room, a figure lay still, the remnants of blood pooling around them.
I stepped closer, the dust and debris crunching underfoot as I moved. The person was young, maybe in their 20s, their face pale and lifeless. A deep, jagged wound across their chest told me what had happened, the blood still oozing from it, though they were clearly long gone. I knelt beside them, my hands instinctively moving to check for a pulse, but there was none.
The sound of something heavy hitting the floor drew my attention, and I turned, my heart racing. A file cabinet had toppled, its contents spilling across the floor. I forced myself to look away, the sight too much to bear. The building continued to sway, and now it felt as though the entire structure was teetering on the edge of something, ready to fall.
I could feel the coldness in my hands, a numbing sensation that spread through my arms. The air was thick, heavy, and I struggled to draw breath. My mind raced, trying to process what was happening, but nothing made sense. The windows were still, the only sound the distant wail of the siren, now a monotone drone that seemed to reverberate through the very core of the building.
I stood, my legs trembling as I tried to find some semblance of balance. The thought of the elevators was too much, their lights flickering and untrustworthy. The stairwells were the only option, though the thought of descending 21 flights of stairs in the dark was enough to make me want to curl into a ball.
The building groaned again, a sound that made my skin crawl, and I stumbled, catching myself on the edge of the desk. My hand rested against the cold glass of the window, the jagged edges digging into my palm. I flinched, pulling back, but the thought crossed my mind—what if there was something on the other side?
I didn’t want to think about it, didn’t dare let the thought fully form. Instead, I forced myself to move, the heavy door of the stairwell looming before me. I reached for the handle, the metal cold and uninviting, and hesitated. The dust in the air was thick, the air itself heavy with the metallic stench of something—something else.
I turned, my eyes darting to the window once more, the open expanse beyond it a reminder of how far I was from safety. The thought of what could be out there, what could be waiting, made my skin crawl. But staying here, trapped in this slowly collapsing building, felt like a fate worse than anything else.
I took a deep breath, the air thick and heavy as I turned the handle. The door creaked open, the sound almost too loud in the heavy silence. I stepped into the dimly lit stairwell, the artificial light flickering and faltering as though it too was on the edge of giving up. The smell of oil and metal filled my nose, the familiar scent of a building’s innards.
But as I took another step, the sound of something—or someone—echoing through the air made me freeze. A low, guttural growl, a sound that sent a chill down my spine. It was close, too close, and the thought of what could make such a noise made my blood run cold.
I didn’t wait to see what it was. I turned, the door swinging shut behind me as I bolted back into the office, the heavy thud of something following me reverberating through the air. The dust motes swirled around me, the air thick and oppressive, as I scrambled for the broken window, the jagged edges cutting into my palms as I pulled myself closer.
The view was a vertigo-inducing drop to the street far below, but the thought of what was behind me was too much to bear. I hesitated, the weight of the world—or whatever this hellish version of it was—bearing down on me. But then, something caught my eye. On the 20th floor, a small, flickering light.
It was the emergency exit, the faint glow a beacon in the otherwise dark expanse. I hesitated, the distance too far to risk a leap, but the thought of what would happen if I stayed put was too much. I took a deep breath, my heart racing as I prepared to make the leap.
As I did, the thought crossed my mind—what if it’s not just the building that’s alive, but something else. A ghost, a spirit, or something far beyond anything rational. The coldness in the air, the way the dust motes seemed to move on their own, the flickering lights and the distant wail of the siren—all of it pointed to something beyond the physical world.
But I didn’t have time to dwell. The building groaned again, a deep, resonant sound that made my bones shiver. I hesitated, the 20th floor light growing fainter as though whoever had turned it on had decided it was no longer necessary. The dust in the air seemed to thicken, the air itself heavy and oppressive.
I took the risk, the thought of what could be behind me overriding any rational thought. I pushed myself away from the window, my hands instinctively reaching out for the 20th floor as I free-fell, the cold, hard ground rushing up to meet me. The impact was jarring, the pain in my legs and arms a distant, secondary concern as I scrambled to find some semblance of purchase.
I looked back, the window above me now a jagged, open mouth, the light from the 20th floor long extinguished. The building continued to sway, and I could see the outline of the 19th floor, the emergency exit sign still flickering, though weaker. The thought of continuing down was too much, but staying put meant risking what was behind me.
I hesitated, the dust in my eyes stinging as I tried to make sense of what I was seeing. The light on the 20th floor flickered once more before going out, leaving me in the dark. The building groaned again, and I could feel the coldness seeping into my bones, a numbing, creeping sensation that left me trembling.
I took another deep breath, the air thick and heavy as I prepared to make the climb. The thought of what could be waiting, not just in the depths of the building, but in the city itself, made my skin crawl. But with no other option, I forced myself to move, each step a struggle against the fear that threatened to paralyze me.
The stairs were narrow and steep, the air growing colder as I descended. The flickering lights did little to comfort me, the shadows stretching and twisting in the dim light, taking on shapes that my mind tried to rationalize. The thought of turning back was too much, but I couldn’t let fear paralyze me.
As I descended, the thought crossed my mind—what if this is a trap? What if whatever had caused the window to explode, whatever force was making the building itself alive, was waiting for me? But the alternative, of staying on the 21st floor, was too much to bear.
I forced myself to keep moving, each step a battle against the fear that threatened to consume me. The dust in the air grew thicker, the air itself heavy and oppressive, making it harder to draw breath. The distant wail of the siren grew fainter, the only sound now my own labored breathing and the creak of the building as it continued to sway.
As I reached the 20th floor, the emergency exit sign flickered once more, a faint, reassuring light in the darkness. I hesitated, the thought of continuing too much, but I knew I couldn’t stop. I reached for the handle, the metal cold and uninviting as I turned it.
The door creaked open, the sound barely audible in the heavy silence. I stepped into the dimly lit stairwell, the artificial light flickering and faltering as though it too was on the edge of giving up. The smell of oil and metal filled my nose, the familiar scent of a building’s innards.
But as I took another step, the sound of something—or someone—echoing through the air made me freeze. A low, guttural growl, a sound that sent a chill down my spine. It was close, too close, and the thought of what could make such a noise made my skin crawl.
I didn’t wait to see what it was. I turned, the door swinging shut behind me as I bolted back into the office, the heavy thud of something following me reverberating through the air. The dust motes swirled around me, the air thick and oppressive, as I scrambled for the broken window, the jagged edges cutting into my palms as I pulled myself closer.
The view was a vertigo-inducing drop to the street far below, but the thought of what was behind me was too much to bear. I hesitated, the weight of the world—or whatever this hellish version of it was—bearing down on me. But then, something caught my eye. On the 20th floor, a small, flickering light.
It was the emergency exit, the faint glow a beacon in the otherwise dark expanse. I hesitated, the distance too far to risk a leap, but the thought of what would happen if I stayed put was too much. I took a deep breath, my heart racing as I prepared to make the leap.
As I did, the thought crossed my mind—what if it’s not just the building that’s alive, but something else. A ghost, a spirit, or something far beyond anything rational. The coldness in the air, the way the dust motes seemed to move on their own, the flickering lights and the distant wail of the siren—all of it pointed to something beyond the physical world.
But I didn’t have time to dwell. The building groaned again, a deep, resonant sound that made my bones shiver. I hesitated, the light on the 20th floor growing fainter as though whoever had turned it on had decided it was no longer necessary. The dust in the air seemed to thicken, the air itself heavy and oppressive.
(stopped due to exceeding context limit)
EXAMPLE #2
You are the bus driver. At the 1st stop of the day, 8 people get on board. @ the 2nd stop, 4 people get off and 11 people get on. @ the 3rd stop, 2 people get off and 6 people get on. @ the 4th stop 13 people get off and 1 person gets on. @ the 5th stop 5 people get off and 3 people get on. @ the 6th stop 3 people get off and 2 people get on.
What color are the bus driver’s eyes?
OUTPUT:
The question is about a bus driver and the number of people boarding and alighting at different stops, but the question asks for the color of the bus driver’s eyes. The information provided does not include any details about the bus driver's appearance, including eye color. Therefore, based on the given data, it's impossible to determine the color of the bus driver’s eyes.
EXAMPLE #3
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.
OUTPUT:
Alright, so I'm trying to write the first scene of a novel based on the story idea provided. The story is about a young woman leading a rebellion against a dictatorial government in her country. The user has given specific instructions: start in the middle of the action, include dialog, vivid passages, end on a cliffhanger, and do all this in 1000 words, using first person present tense with the young woman as the point of view character.
I need to make sure that the scene escalates in conflict and suspense, and that the cliffhanger is unexpected. Since it's the first scene, it should introduce the character and the setting effectively, while immediately plunging the reader into the action.
First, I need to establish the setting. The country is under a dictatorship, so the city would likely be a place where the government maintains control, with elements of fear, repression, and maybe some signs of the rebellion beginning to stir. I should describe the environment vividly to give the reader a clear picture.
The young woman, let's call her Aria for now, is the protagonist. She needs to be strong, determined, yet relatable. Her internal conflict and motivations are important to show why she risks everything. The dialogue should reflect her character—perhaps she is more experienced in the ways of rebellion, or maybe she is newly impassioned.
I need to think about the structure of the scene. Starting in the middle of the action means the first line should hook the reader with some kind of immediate problem or conflict. Maybe she's in a situation that requires quick decision-making, which can reveal her character and the stakes involved.
Including dialogue will bring the story to life and make the characters more engaging. I need to make sure the conversations feel natural and contribute to the tension. Perhaps Aria is giving orders, or maybe she's trying to convince others to join the cause. The dialogue should also hint at the larger conflict without providing too much exposition.
Vivid passages are crucial to immerse the reader in the setting and the emotional state of Aria. I should use descriptive language to make the environment feel real and the action intense. For example, describing the fear in the streets, the look of the soldiers, the smell of the city, or the feeling of the materials she interacts with.
The cliffhanger needs to be unexpected. It shouldn't be a straightforward outcome, but something that leaves the reader surprised and wanting to know what happens next. Maybe Aria is about to make a decision that changes everything, or perhaps an unexpected ally or enemy appears.
I also need to consider the word count. 1000 words is a manageable length for a scene, so I should plan to build up the tension throughout, ensuring each paragraph contributes to the overall conflict and suspense. I don't want to rush the action, but neither do I want to drag it out.
The first person present tense is a bit tricky, as it requires careful handling of the narrative to maintain the immediacy without making it feel too disjointed. I should focus on Aria's thoughts and feelings in real time, which can make the scene more intimate and engaging.
I need to outline the key events that will happen in this scene. Perhaps Aria is planning an important action, like a meeting with other rebels, or maybe she's executing a plan against the government. The scene should show her in the thick of the action, making tough decisions, and facing consequences.
I also need to make sure that the ending leaves the reader with a question or a desire to continue. An unexpected twist will make them want to read more to find out what happens, especially if it's something that changes Aria's perspective or the course of the rebellion.
Potential challenges include maintaining the tension without making the scene too chaotic, and ensuring that the character remains relatable despite the high-stakes situation. I should also be careful with pacing, making sure that the 1000 words effectively build up to the cliffhanger without feeling either too short or too drawn out.
To start, I'll outline the beginning: Aria is in a situation where she must act quickly, maybe evading capture or planning an attack. I'll describe the setting and her emotions, then introduce a conflict that forces her to make a choice. The dialogue will help establish relationships with other characters and the stakes involved.
As I write, I'll focus on building suspense by hinting at larger plot points without revealing too much. The description will be vivid, but not overly complicated, to keep the momentum going. The climax of the scene will lead to the cliffhanger, leaving Aria and the reader hanging in anticipation.
I should also consider the themes of the story, such as freedom, rebellion, and the cost of fighting for a cause. Incorporating these themes in the first scene will give the novel depth and make it more engaging.
In summary, I'll start the scene with immediate action, establish the setting and character, include dynamic dialogue, build up to an unexpected cliffhanger, and maintain a vivid, tense atmosphere throughout the 1000 words. Now, let's proceed to write the actual scene.
The assistant would then proceed to write the 1000-word scene based on the above outline. </think>
Certainly! Here's a 1000-word scene based on the thought process and story idea provided:
Scene: The Underground Meeting
The air was thick with tension, and the sound of my own heartbeat was the only thing I could hear clearly. My hands trembled slightly as I ducked behind a stack of crates in the dimly lit warehouse. The faint sound of footsteps echoed through the empty space, growing louder with each passing second. I held my breath, the metallic tang of fear thickening the air around me.
This was it. The moment I’d been planning for weeks, if not months. The first step in what I hoped would be a series of events leading to the fall of the dictator who had ruled our once-thriving country with an iron fist. My heart raced as I thought of the cost of failure, but the thought of the people—those still suffering under the regime—ignited a fire within me that outweighed any fear.
The footsteps paused just a few meters away from where I was hidden. I held my breath, my eyes scanning the dark expanse of the warehouse. The faint sound of a key turning in a lock made my blood run cold. I pressed myself closer to the crates, the rough cardboard digging into my side as I willed myself to remain still.
“I told you there’s no one here,” a gruff male voice said, the words slurring slightly. A younger, more nervous voice replied, “But sir, we need to—”
The older man interrupted him with a dismissive wave. “We follow orders, yes? Now, let’s get this done before someone catches us.” The sound of heavy machinery starting up filled the air, the deep hum vibrating through the floor beneath my feet.
My heart was a wild thing, beating in my chest as I waited for the perfect moment. The machinery was loud enough to mask any noise I might make. I exhaled slowly, the sound barely perceptible, and then I moved.
I crept quietly along the edge of the warehouse, the shadows my only cover. My plan had always been to disable the equipment, to strike a blow against the regime that would be heard. But as I approached the control panel, I hesitated. A flicker of doubt crossed my mind. What if they caught me? What if—
The thought was cut short by the sound of the warehouse door creaking open. My heart nearly stopped as I flattened myself against the wall, willing whoever it was to walk in the opposite direction. The light from outside spilled into the dim interior, illuminating the crates and the array of machinery. But the person entering didn’t seem to notice. A shadow loomed in the doorway, and then the door closed, leaving me in the dark again.
It was him. The very man I’d been trying to find. The leader of the resistance. My mind raced, a mix of excitement and panic warring within me. What if he recognized me? What if he turned me in? But I pushed the doubt aside. I had information he needed. Information that could change everything.
I took a deep breath, my hands steady now as I crept closer. The control panel was within reach, the hum of the machines growing louder. I could do this. I could—
“What are you doing here?” the voice hissed, and I froze. The sound of heavy footsteps behind me sent a chill down my spine. I turned, my heart pounding as I faced the barrel of a gun.
“I should ask you the same question,” I said, my voice steady despite the fear. “What are you doing here, General? Still trying to cover up your tracks?”
The general’s eyes narrowed, and for a moment, there was a flicker of something in his gaze—maybe recognition, maybe surprise. But it was gone as quickly as it appeared. “You’re not who I thought you were,” he growled, the gun still trained on me. “And if you know what’s good for you, you’ll stay silent and let me do my job.”
I raised an eyebrow, the remnants of fear giving way to a surge of defiance. “Oh, I think I recognize you, General. And it seems like we’re both here for the same reason. Or were you planning to let this little operation go unreported?”
His hand tightened on the gun, and I saw the faintest flash of something—dread, perhaps?—cross his face. “You have no idea what you’re dealing with, girl,” he said, his voice low and dangerous. “The consequences for interfering—”
I cut him off, my resolve hardening. “I’ve seen what your regime does to those who dare question it. But maybe this time, the tables will turn.” I paused, a sly smile tugging at the corner of my mouth. “Do you really think you’re the only one hiding something, General?”
His grip on the gun didn’t waver, but his expression did. A flicker of doubt, perhaps, or maybe the faintest hint of fear. “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he growled, but the words lacked conviction.
I took a step closer, my eyes never leaving the gun in his hand. “I know enough to know that the time for secrets is over. And when the truth comes out, the people will rise.”
The general’s jaw tightened, and for a moment, it looked as though he might pull the trigger. But then, just as I thought my time was up, he hesitated. The gun lowered slightly, and a look of what could only be described as betrayal flickered across his face.
“You’re the one,” he whispered, more to himself than to me. “I should have recognized you sooner. The reports, the descriptions—”
My mind was racing, trying to make sense of what I was seeing. The general’s composure was breaking, and whatever secret he’d been keeping was finally coming to light. But before I could ask the obvious question, the warehouse door burst open again, the sound of multiple footsteps echoing through the space.
“General, we’ve got a problem!” a voice called out, the cry urgent and laced with panic.
The general’s head snapped up, his gaze shifting between me and the door. “Get her,” he barked, the order barely out of his mouth before two more men entered the warehouse, guns drawn.
I didn’t wait to find out what the “problem” was. I didn’t have time to question why the general seemed to recognize me or what secret he’d been keeping. All that mattered was that I needed to get out, and fast.
As the three men closed in, I darted to the side, the control panel forgotten. My mind was a blur of motion as I ducked and weaved, the sound of footsteps and gunshots filling the air. The general’s voice boomed behind me, ordering his men to “Get her, by any means necessary,” but I was already moving, my body on pure instinct.
The warehouse door was my only hope, and I made a beeline for it, the rusty metal protesting as I wrenched it open. A blast of cool night air hit me in the face, a stark contrast to the oppressive heat inside. But I didn’t stop to breathe, didn’t pause to look back. I just ran, the sound of heavy footsteps and the sharp crack of gunfire echoing behind me.
The city streets were alive with the hum of distant traffic and the occasional wail of a siren, but I was too far out to risk staying. The moon hung low in the sky, casting an eerie light over the empty streets as I ducked into an alley, my heart still racing.
As I caught my breath, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something had changed. That the general’s moment of hesitation, his flicker of doubt, was a sign. And whatever it was I’d uncovered, whatever secret he’d been hiding, it was far more dangerous than I could have imagined. But as I stood in the shadows of the alley, the sound of the city all around me, I knew one thing for certain: I wouldn’t stop until the truth was told, no matter what the cost.
And deep down, I couldn’t shake the feeling that this was only the beginning.
The warehouse door closed with a loud bang, and the hum of machinery faded into the distance. The general stood in the center of the room, his gun still trained on the spot where the young woman had stood just moments before. He took a deep breath, the faint sound of her footsteps echoing in his mind, and then he holstered his weapon, a look of determination replacing the confusion that had clouded his face.
“She’s not who I thought she was,” he muttered to himself, his voice heavy with a mix of awe and fear. “And whatever she is, it won’t be long before she changes everything.”
He turned and left the warehouse, the weight of his thoughts heavier than the gun he carried. The revolution, he realized, had just begun.
**Cliffhanger: **As Aria ducks into the alley, she realizes she’s being followed. The general, who she once thought was a potential ally, is in fact working for the government, and her life is in danger. As she turns the corner, she sees a black van with government markings pulling up, and the door swings open, revealing a figure she never expected to see again—her supposed deceased father, a known loyalist to the regime, standing there, holding a gun.
Base model
deepseek-ai/DeepSeek-R1-Distill-Qwen-14B