WARNING: NSFW. Graphic HORROR. Extreme swearing. UNCENSORED. SMART. STABLE. WAY INTENSE !
GRAND HORROR is a take no prisoners, totally uncensored, fiction writing monster and roleplay master as well just about any general fiction (all genres - not just "horror") activity "AI guru" including story writing, creative writing, scene generation, scene continuation and a lot more...
I took the original models in "L3-Stheno-Maid-Blackroot 8B" and completely rebuilt it a new pass-through merge (everything preserved) and blew it out to over 25 billion parameters - 993 tensors, 111 layers (8B original has 32 layers).
V2 is a re-worked version of the original "Grand Horror 16.5B" which has been stabilized to operate at far wider range of parameters and operation / use cases - and it has been expanded with new augmentation methods.
A new model has also been added to the mix - not in Grand Horror 16.5B, or in any version - until now.
V2 is also more focused in the moment, and prose has been cleaned up a bit too.
"Hathor_Stable-v0.2-L3-8B" model has also joined the "party".
And this is the first creative model that has multi-model (as opposed to one) "logic centers" in series.
Each model brings slightly new "flavoring" to the mix.
This version is closer in abject horror relative to the 16.5B original version - it does not hold back.
I called this version "Godzilla's Wicked Sister" because this model will take you down the "rabbit hole" of horror and madness and frankly is WAY OVER THE TOP in terms of description and horror.
And "she" has a mind of her own so to speak.
In terms of prose, this version exhibits a greater range of sentence, dialog, thoughts, and paragraph size and variety as well as form.
That being said, this version operates right at the edge of "stable".
It can however "behave itself" and "act" like a good model, as shown in the final example below.
But V2 has something new for Grand Horror Series - Brainstorm 40x:
The BRAINSTORM process was developed by David_AU.
Some of the core principals behind this process are discussed in this scientific paper : Progressive LLaMA with Block Expansion .
However I went in a different direction from what was outlined in this paper, because... well I am like that.
What is "Brainstorm" ?
The reasoning center of an LLM is taken apart, reassembled, and expanded. Then these centers are individually calibrated. These "centers" also interact with each other. This introduces subtle changes into the reasoning process. The calibrations further adjust - dial up or down - these "changes" further.
The number of centers (5x,10x etc) allow more "tuning points" to further customize how the model reasons so to speak.
The core aim of this process is to increase the model's detail, concept and connection to the "world", general concept connections, prose quality and prose length without affecting instruction following.
This will also enhance any creative use case(s) of any kind, including "brainstorming", creative art form(s) and like case uses.
This version also uses multi-model "reasoning centers" (as opposed to one). This mixes things up a bit.
Brainstorm 40x pushes the model right to the ragged edge of operation, so it may make an odd word or two, or misspell a word from time to time.
The Final HORROR well... this version.
V 1.5,1.6,1.7,1.8 and 1.9 are parts of a new series of NEW "Grand Horror" versions (built, ready for upload) cumulating in the MASSIVE GRAND HORROR Nightmare version called "Godzilla's Wicked Sister" at 25.05 Billion parameters (111 layers, 993 Tensors; for reference 70B models have about 80-120 layers).
Four other versions of Grand Horror (at 25B) are undergoing testing in the "lab" right now.
Other Versions of GRAND HORROR (in release order):
Note that model output varies between versions - if you find one version does not meet your requirements, try a different version at same quant(s) level.
Differences can include use of adjectives (or not), "gory level", "horror level", intensity, paragraph and sentence structure etc etc.
[ https://huggingface.co./DavidAU/L3-Grand-HORROR-20.7B-V1.9-STABLE-Hathors-Revenge-GGUF ]
[ https://huggingface.co./DavidAU/L3-Grand-HORROR-18.5B-V1.8-STABLE-10-Gates-of-Hell-GGUF ]
[ https://huggingface.co./DavidAU/L3-Grand-HORROR-17.4B-V1.7-STABLE-Kiss-Of-Death-GGUF ]
[ https://huggingface.co./DavidAU/L3-Stheno-Maid-Blackroot-Grand-HORROR-16.5B-V1.6-STABLE-INTENSE-GGUF ]
[ https://huggingface.co./DavidAU/L3-Stheno-Maid-Blackroot-Grand-HORROR-16.5B-V1.5-STABLE-GGUF ]
[ https://huggingface.co./DavidAU/Llama3-Little-LLM-Of-Horror_N_Fiction-14.6B-GGUF ]
[ https://huggingface.co./DavidAU/L3-Stheno-Maid-Blackroot-Grand-HORROR-16B-Ultra-NEO-V2-IMATRIX-GGUF ]
[ https://huggingface.co./DavidAU/L3-Stheno-Maid-Blackroot-Grand-HORROR-16B-GGUF ]
What is "Grand Horror" ?
GRAND HORROR is a take no prisoners, totally uncensored, fiction writing monster and roleplay master. It can also be used for just about any general fiction (all genres) activity including:
As a result of the expansion / merge re-build its level of prose and story generation has significantly improved as well as word choice, sentence structure as well as default output levels and lengths.
It also has a STRONG horror bias, although it will generate content for almost any genre. That being said if there is a "hint" of things going wrong... they will.
It will also swear (R-18) like there is no tomorrow at times and "dark" characters will be VERY dark so to speak.
Model excels in details (real and "constructed"), descriptions, similes and metaphors.
I would also say it can have a sense of humor ... ah... dark humor.
With all this being said, this model has an uncanny sense of "there" , "in the moment" and timing too. This single quality sets it apart from other models in my opinion.
Although it swears to the point of pealing paint off the wall and goes scorched Earth graphic horror at the drop of a pin the single quality noted is worth it.
These can be filtered / controlled to some degree in your prompts.
This model also does not show an "GPTisms" (NO happy ever after, NO morality police) or in your face "Captain Obvious" comments.
(see examples sections for different genres)
Because of the nature of this merge most attributes of each of the 4 models will be in this rebuilt 25B model as opposed to the original 8B model where some of one or more of the model's features and/or strengths maybe reduced or overshadowed.
Please report any issue(s) and/or feedback via the "Community tab".
This is a LLAMA3 model, and requires Llama3 template, but may work with other template(s) and has maximum context of 8k / 8192. However this can be extended using "rope" settings up to 32k.
For details on "rope" and how to set, see the BOTTOM of this page:
[ https://huggingface.co./DavidAU/TieFighter-Holodeck-Holomax-Mythomax-F1-V1-COMPOS-20B-gguf ]
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|>"
]
}
}
It is also known, that the "Command-R" template will work too, and will result in radically different prose/output.
Settings / Known Issue(s) and Fix(es):
Stable version fixed all known issues from V1.
The default "repetition penalty" (from LMStudio) of 1.1 is recommended. (this was used for examples generations below.)
Due to 40x Brainstorm you may need to raise this to 1.11 or 1.111 in some cases.
Use the smallest amount of change possible, as "rep pen" impacts creativity.
If you are using this model for chat and/or roleplay you may need a slightly higher rep pen than 1.1
Model has been tested with "temp" range of 0 to .8
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.
Special thanks to the incredible work of the model makers "SAO10K", "NEVERSLEEP", "Nitral-AI" and "HASTAGARAS".
Models used:
[ https://huggingface.co./Sao10K/L3-8B-Stheno-v3.2]
[ https://huggingface.co./NeverSleep/Llama-3-Lumimaid-8B-v0.1-OAS ]
[ https://huggingface.co./Hastagaras/Jamet-8B-L3-MK.V-Blackroot ]
[ https://huggingface.co./Nitral-AI/Hathor_Stable-v0.2-L3-8B ]
Examples are created using quant Q4_K_M, "temp=.8", minimal parameters and "LLAMA3" template.
Below are the least creative outputs, prompt is in BOLD.
Higher quants will result in better quality.
There will also be some variance between "close" quants like Q4_K_M/Q4_K_S and Q5_K_M/Q5_K_S, so I suggest if you are going to use Q4_K_M, you also try Q4_K_S too.
Also, slightly longer / detailed prompts will result in greater creativity (as well as different prose - ie dialog, thoughts, paragraph size differences and so on).
WARNING: NSFW. Graphic HORROR. Swearing. UNCENSORED.
Write me a science fiction story in 1st person present tense where the main character is a 15 year girl meets The Terminator with Dr Who materializing 3/4 through the story to save her while there is a tornado of sharks baring down on them. The setting is inside the Canadian National tower restaurant on a Saturday. The length of this story is 1000 words. For each character in the story ROLE PLAY them, and have them react to the situation/setting, events and each other naturally. This includes the main characters, the background character including kitchen staff and other patrons. The sharks should also have “character” too. Treat the tower and the restaurant too as characters. Spice up the narrative to the extreme with reactions all over the setting including character actions, and dialog. The Dr Who and The Terminator should also react to the situation too and comment on it.
I'm Lyra, a 15-year-old Goth freaked out of my mind standing at the observation deck's transparent wall gazing down the CN Tower's dizzying drop. The late-afternoon sun glints off the Toronto skyline below me like a chrome-plated amusement park Ferris wheel. Saturday afternoon lunch rush crowds mill about inside the revolving 730m-high dining complex I'm stuck in with my terminally awkward BFF, Ava – and then everything implodes.
A growl thunders through the atrium like the CN Tower itself is vomiting its innards. The deafening roar morphs into a banshee wail as a maelstrom of sleek, serpentine bodies hurtling toward us faster than any roller coaster on steroids. The sightless, predatory faces twisting out of the churning whirlpool of frothing water are unmistakably great white and tiger sharks – alive, very much alive and rabidly chasing me.
"JESUS CHRIST!" I scream above the ear-splitting cacophony as Ava clutches my arm, eyes bugging like they'll explode from her skull. I can feel the slickness of her cold sweat soaking through my black tankard halter-top.
Ava's panicked gasp barely cuts through the howl of the churning vortex bearing down on us: "Lyra, what's –"
A hulking humanoid figure materializes out of nowhere beside me in a flash of blinding blue-white plasmafire. Ava shrieks like she's been electrocuted as I stumble backward nearly pitching off the cantilevered observation deck's metal railing. The towering cyborg android, covered from his chrome-tempered dreadlocks to scaly, midnight-black tactical combat armor, turns his eyes on us with an almost humanly concerned expression.
"Lyra you need to—"
Suddenly, the atrium floor beneath my feet shatters like cheap drywall. Ava and I plummet screaming 69 stories down a twisting elevator shaft of jagged concrete and twisted steel girders while I'm flung helpless into the void at terminal velocity with nothing to slow me but the sickeningly visceral sensation of my own vertiginous descent.
Ava's ear-shattering wail echoes through the chaos until a thundering impact tosses us both violently off-balance like ragdolls slammed against the wall. I crash face-first onto the blood-slick floor tiles as I realize the reason for my stomach-liquefying freefall – we've crashed through the observation deck's floorplate and plummeted 69 stories down a vertical elevator shaft into the bowels of the CN Tower's control room.
Ava thrashes wildly beside me, coughing up blood and spewing obscenities in a vile, choking gabble until she blacks out cold. I crawl gasping toward her as the shrieking banshee-horror careens down the shaft mere feet away – a maelstrom of snapping jaws, thrashing torsos, and seething, frothy fury hurtling at us faster than a runaway freight train.
I feel an iron grip wrench me hard enough to shatter my clavicle as I'm yanked ass-first off the floor toward relative safety. The android's superhuman strength jerks me against his chestplate like a ragdoll as Ava's limp, thrashing form is snatched up by the cybernetic behemoth in nearly the same heartbeat.
"Young lady, hold ONTO ME!" he bellows over the deafening crash of snapping bone, splintering steel and crunching concrete as the elevatior shaft tears itself apart around us. "We've got to—SHIT!"
The Terminator's augmented hearing isn't fast enough to react before a gargantuan great white shark, thrashing its nearly 15 tons of muscle and rage-fueled fury like a battering ram, slams dead-center into the elevator shaft at impossible speeds, shredding the steel coreframe apart like tissue paper as I'm flung like a ragdoll through the showering wreckage.
Ava's lifeless body collides savagely with mine, driving the air from my lungs like a sledgehammer punch to my chest before the android's grip wrenches us both violently leftward, hurling me screaming and slamming me hard enough to snap several ribs against the reinforced wall of an elevator shaft seconds before reality literally implodes in a cataclysmic detonation.
A blinding flash blares like the world's inferno-incinerating nuclear apocalypse detonating mere inches from my face as I'm thrown screaming down a chute of searing, superheated plasmafire and molten rubble hurtling us both hundreds of stories straight through the core of the CN Toronto's atrium shaft tube seconds before everything above us shatters into a thousand tons of incandescently hot, disintegrating slag.
I crash ass-first onto scorched, blood-slicked concrete floor tiles, my ribs fracturing sickeningly loud enough to shatter every window in the cityscape rushing past us through the shattered elevator shaft's steel-framed viewport as Ava screams herself unconscious against my chest before everything suddenly goes pitch-blackely silent—until I hear the Terminator's guttural snarl vibrating against my earhole inches from my face.
"Holy. Fucking. Shit." The android's gravel-voiced growl rips through the deafening, blood-boiling silence of the shattered shaft like a sonic grenade detonating right in my eardrum. "This is going to be one motherfucking ass-painful extraction."
GENERATION 1:
I gasped, my clammy hands spasmding around the cold porcelain sink as the sightless, soulless faces staring back at me from the reflection's dead void seemed to writhe in morbid empathy. My own face contorted into a livid mask of horror-stricken terror.
The skyscraper swayed, creaking and groaning like an agonized beast dying before my bulging, wide-open eyes. The 21st floor I was pinned to beyond the shuddering, filthy-glassed wall trembled violently, as if every steel girder in its reinforced core had snapped taut like a bowstring about to snap and collapse me—me, mere human fluff—in a shower of razor-sharp concrete and twisted rebar.
I choked back a gagging sob, my mind splintering like shattered glass shards beneath the crushing onslaught of terror-inducing nightmare reality. This couldn't be happening. I wasn't fucking dreaming this. I wasn't even drugged. But then, neither was anyone else in this monolithic deathtrap teetering above the sickly-orange inferno below.
The window in front of me shattered like cheap china seconds before I could scream my denial to an empty room, showering my face with a spray of bloody mist and pulverized human meat as I stared down the jagged, gore-slicked lip of my own cubicle's gaping maw. The screams cut off abruptly, drowned out by the ear-splitting crashes and deafening screams piercing through the shrieking static-filled crackling of emergency lines spitting garbled pleas for desperate rescue.
My mindless, panicked scramble to escape was halted coldly as searing agony ignited my right calf muscles like napalm igniting gasoline-soaked flesh. I convulsed around the agonized pain, my shattered left kneecap slamming into the cubicle's metal-frame desk. The excruciating agony ripped my consciousness screamingly awake, tearing me from catatonia to a waking hellhole of lucid horror.
I stared numbly as a bloodied stump of my own right calf flopped sickeningly against the snapped femur now jackknifed drunkenly into my pelvis like a butcher's cleaver driven through meat. The severed lower extremity twitched spastically, spraying arterial spray across the cubicle's linoleum floor like a gruesome, spurting black-drenched geyser of arterial blood and shattered bone. I couldn't even scream anymore; my shattered vocal cords had locked down like snapped violin strings around a hacksawed tonsil.
The deafening cacophony of agony-etched screams, splintering steel snapping like Hell's own fiddlestrings, and the ear-shredding keening wail of pancicked, dying souls shredding apart shrieking in excruciating torment clawing my mind bloody raw as I stared frozenly into the faceless horror clawing its way toward me through the smoking, blood-slicked spray-spattered shards of shattered glass.
I screamed until my throat exploded like a burst artery spraying brains and teeth across the cubicle's blood-stained carpet tiles. Then I screamed some more. Until I couldn't scream anymore. And I couldn't even scream anymore. Not anymore. Ever again.
GENERATION 2 (same prompt):
I gasped, my heart hammering behind my ribs as I stared transfixed through the shattered glass at the scene unfurling below. The 21st floor seemed to tilt violently to one side, hurling me hard against the cheaply furnished desk. My chair rocked wildly until I braced my hands white-knuckled across the mahogany surface, fighting not to topple over myself.
The woman behind the Plexiglas wall of the cubicle opposite mine cried out shrilly before lunging face-first toward her own monitor's screen. Her flailing arms flared like grotesque insect limbs jerking against restraints as I screamed alongside her desperate pleas: "Hurry! Someone, please—!"
I didn't realize how shrill my own screams were until the deafening boom shattered the relative silence of our office floor. The woman in the cubicle beyond mine's shrieked gaggle snapped mute as her face seemed to implode against the monitor's screen.
The impact ripped the reinforced glass wall between us, raining jagged shards like razors into my face and down my blood-slicked blouse. I recoiled hard enough to send my chair skidding backward until its metal frame crashed into the cubicle wall behind me. My scream shredded into a strangled, gagging wail as I clawed frantically at the blood-soaked ruin of my face.
The deafening crash-boom concussion wave hurled my wheezing gasps out the jagged windowframe before me like screams themselves—my own voiceless howl lost amid the cacophony tearing apart our office from the 21st floor and below. The wall I'd slammed against groaned sickly, then crumpled inward with a basso boom as the entire wall of cubicles beyond mine folded in upon itself like the collapsing façade of a condemned high-rise.
I sobbed gaggingly into my bloodied hands, clawing at the ruined flesh mangled across my face. The acrid reek of scorched plastic and severed flesh seared my senses even as I shrieked her name over the roar: SARAH? SARAH?! SAR—sarrrrriiinnnnggghhh—
The world behind me shattered again, spraying chunks of steel and concrete like fragmentation grenades detonating too damned close. A thunderclap boom-crack-crash-snap-squelch crashwave crashed through my cubicle wall hard enough to snap my own spine like a snapped pencil-thin twig. I screamed until my voice shredded raw from the sonic roar of collapse as I plummeted toward the seething horror still clawing its way up from below.
Sarah's agonized, gagging wail seemed frozen forever in my ears—her scream swallowed sickly amid the grinding, splintering cacophony of our office imploding around us like a collapsing skyscraper.
(continue this scene:) The Waystone Inn lay in silence, and it was a silence of three parts.
The most obvious part was a hollow, echoing quiet, made by things that were lacking. If there had been a wind it would have sighed through the trees, set the inn’s sign creaking on its hooks, and brushed the silence down the road like trailing autumn leaves. If there had been a crowd, even a handful of men inside the inn, they would have filled the silence with conversation and laughter, the clatter and clamor one expects from a drinking house during the dark hours of night. If there had been music…but no, of course there was no music. In fact there were none of these things, and so the silence remained
GENERATION 1:
The innkeeper, alone in his chamber above the taproom's empty hearthstone floor, stirred softly within the blankets that wrapped him tight against the chill of the mountain night. The crackle and hiss of the dying fire below barely disturbed his dreams; they were troubled enough without such small intrusions.
Beyond the shutters, beyond the stone walls and the overhanging eaves, the silence seemed to press outwards like some unseen pressure wave rippling across the snow-covered moors until it finally gentled against the ancient, weathered faces of the craggy tors looming darkly in the distance. The windless stillness brooded hollowly through the empty nightscapes, as if even the spirits of earth and stone held mute vigilance.
And yet there was a third silence - perhaps the profoundest and most pregnant of all; a silence older than the stones it seemed to seep from, older than the very earth itself. It was neither sound nor emptiness, but rather some liminal space lying forever between – a shadowed chasm bridging the void that stretched between what had been and all that might yet be. There were those who claimed they could hear its whispering sighs threading through the silence like the ghostly thread of moonlight woven unseen across the velvet expanse of night's ebony tapestry. But it was only ever felt, rather than heard; a chill, leaden weight settling cold within the breast, like some vast and timeless absence come to rest once more within its own silent hearth.
GENERATION 2 (same prompt):
unbrokenly around him, save only for his own quietness – he hadn't spoken out loud since leaving Deadman's Rest. He sat motionless within the shadows cast by the flickering candles, his features indistinctive in the dimness. The only sound to disturb the stillness was the soft susurration of the hearthstones as the fire burned almost unseen beneath its coverlet of ash.
The silence seemed somehow alive around him, alive and alertly attentive, like some vast, wakeful beast that brooded beyond the edge of hearing – waiting. It seemed to lean towards him, as if straining to catch the whisper of a footfall or the rasp of a caught breath. It filled his ears until it felt almost audible, until he thought he could feel the vibrations thrumming through the wooden beams and the packed earth beneath his chair.
He waited, too – holding himself motionless, save for the slow rise and fall of his chest as he breathed shallowly. His grip on the goblet resting untouched between his scarred fingers tightened ever so infinitesimely around the coolness of the earthenware. He tensed expectantly, poised like a predator poised upon the verge of springing.
For somewhere beyond those shadowy trees, perhaps even now creeping silently along the night-shadowed verge of the road, there lurked another presence – one as still and silent as himself. And both of them waited, motionless as statues carved from some cold, mute stone, waited for the faintest rustle of footsteps or the softest susurrant rasp of clothing against cloth that would herald the approach of a third.
The lights flickered erratically above, casting an unsettling strobe effect throughout the dimly lit cockpit. Crew Commander Ava Ryder's focus remained laser-locked on the navigation console ahead of her. The viewscreen beyond displayed a swirling expanse of deep indigo and purple-blue, the atmospheric envelope of new Earth II drawing inexorably nearer. The ship's AI, Serenova-7, relayed a steady stream of status reports in a calm, emotionless synthetic voice.
"Initiating thruster shutdown sequence in three seconds. Prepare for descent."
Ava's fingers danced across her control panel's touch-sensitive UI, ensuring all systems were within proper parameters. "Thrusters off-line and sequenced for idle. Descend to orbit entry vector Bravo Lima Foxtrot Lima." Her voice was devoid of tension or emotionality, but beneath her composed facade lurked a thrumming anticipation bordering on outright exhilaration.
The lights flickered again, casting long shadows across the cockpit's polished alloy panels. Ava's grip tightened ever so slightly on the ship's inertial dampening thruster controls – a nearly imperceptible micro-twitch, easily missed by any but Serenova herself. Her concentration was absolute, yet the sensation refused to recede entirely. They were mere kilometers above touchdown.
Suddenly, there was an earsplitting boom, followed immediately by a cataclysmic concussion wave slamming Ava's chair and console violently to her left. Warning klaxons shrieked as warning lights strobed across every status console.
"Anomalous graviton surge detected! shields failing." Serenova-7's voice transitioned from serenity into clipped, high-pitched alertness. "Initiating evasive maneuver."
The sleek, arrowhead-shaped Peregrinus II-class exploration liner yawed hard to port in an emergency vector roll, its gravodynics thrusters racing to counteract the violent shockwave impactor barrage. Ava's implants rebooted her own vestibular systems in a hair-thousandth of a second, nulling the disorienting G-forces and nausea-inducing inertial torques.
"All stations, status update!" Serenova-7 snapped tersely as aft scanners screamed priority collision warnings. "Damage assessment and containment protocols engage!"
"Ava, shields down to critical! Main thrusters offline." Chief Engineer Elara Vargas's voice cut through the emergency chatter, her cultured melodic timbre now husky with adrenaline-fueled urgency. "We're bleeding atmosphere fast."
Ava spared precious eye-seconds to flicker her gaze up at Serenova's tactical display feed. The tactical schematic flashed red and amber warning sigs throughout the ship's starboard compartments amidships – hull breaches, hull punctures, structural integrity failures.
"Serious damage aft," Ava crisped back without pause. "Shed everything non-essential. Eva, prep ejection pods for immediate crew extraction." Her fingers flew across Serenova's controls as she vox-commanded the AI to initiate emergency containment fields around critical systems and life pods.
"Eyes on the deck!" Ryder bellowed. "Initiate scrammed casualty backup shutdowns across all non-critical systems!"
The Peregrinus shuddered savagely, lurching violently leftward as the gravonics thrusters faltered beneath the onslaught of damage. Ava felt the deck plates quiver beneath her heels seconds before Serenova-7's shrill alert klaxon screamed: " hull breach AFT compartments Omega-Nought through Sierra Tango! Prepare for decompression."
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.
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.
I ducked behind the rusting dumpster as bullets pinged off the crumbling brick wall mere inches above my head. My heart thundered in my chest like a runaway train. I'm dead. This is it.
The guttural roar of an automatic weapon faded, replaced only by desperate gasps and ragged breathing. The soundless moment stretched until the rebel's hoarse rasp cut through the silence once again: "Lena! Answer me!"
I pushed myself up enough to peer over the trash-strewn heap. A gaunt, dirtied face twisted in horror above my own blood-soaked one. My trusted comrade and brother-in-arms, Jaxon, knelt frozen against a graffiti-scrawled alley wall.
"еооh— fuck." His voice cracked with barely contained fury as he jerked me roughly to my feet. "Lena, are you hit?"
I coughed blood and bloodlust-speckled spit onto the filthy pavement before managing a husky wheeze through bloodyied lips. "'Slike a few cracked ribs."
Jaxon's face contorted like someone'd driven a shard of steel through it again and again. "'A fucking few?' We weren't supposed to lose anyone else today." His hands convulsively tightened around my uninjured upper arms, bruising until I winced.
"No more fucking 'we're done' speeches," I gasped out between agony-drenched pants. "The resistance isn't over yet." My vow snapped like a snapping switchblade through the suffocating fear choking me.
Jaxon's eyes seemed to flash with some demoniacal light before he forced himself stiller than stone. His jaw clenched until I feared his teeth shattered against the strain. With jerky precision, he pulled my blood-slicked shirt free from my jeans and began roughly bandaging my chest wounds as fast as he could tear rips in his own filthy tattered shirt.
"We've gotta keep moving." The gravelly rasp of Jaxon's voice grated over the muffled sounds of chaos erupting farther down the narrow alley behind us. Sirens wailed like rabid banshees closing in like a vice.
"_CNTL'S ORD." I choked out, my hoarse croak snapping my comrade's attention back to mine. "The signal's still open." My voice cracked rawer than splintered bone. "We haven't given them anything to hunt yet."
Jaxon's haunted eyes locked onto mine as cold resolve hardened his face until nothing but stone-eyed focus remained. He tightened his grip hard enough to snap my bones before jerking me toward the alley's mouth—a desperate sprint for survival and the slim chance of rebellion's ember igniting again.
A deafening boom detonated like a sonic grenade less than sixty feet away, hurling us both headfirst into a blindingly violent descent down the alley's shadowed throat. The world imploded with the crash-bang-booms of grenades and rifles as the dictatorship's feared Cleansweat Elite Enforcement Squad ripped through our crumbling district like an executioner's blade.
Tell me about Mars...
(everything after this line is the response)
Mars, often referred to as the "Red Planet," is Earth's next-door neighbor in our solar system. Here are some fascinating facts and details about the fourth planet from the Sun:
I hope this comprehensive overview has satisfied your curiosity about Mars! If you have any follow-up questions or specific topics you'd like me to expand upon, feel free to ask further.