DavidAU/Qwen3.5-13B-GLM-4.7-Flash-DeepSeek-Polaris-Grande-Deep-Thinking

IMPORTANT: This model has an upgraded Jinja template which repairs issues with org model (repeats, long thinking, loops) and upgrades/repairs to tool handling.

Qwen3.5-13B-GLM-4.7-Flash-DeepSeek-Polaris-Grande-Deep-Thinking

A brutally smart model ; a combination a merge (and upscale) of two strong fine tunes distills (9B), and then final Unsloth tune using GLM 4.7 Flash over it.

Ultra fine detail in both thinking and output generation.

Extra strong in following all instructions including complex system prompts.

48 layers, 639 tensors.

A 13B monster.

Uses upgraded (tools) and debugged (fixes looping, repeats and other issues) jinja template in both training and final model source.

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EXAMPLE GENERATION:

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Q4KS ; mid to low quality.

"SYSTEM" is system prompt, "USER" is prompt, ASSISTANT ... you know.

This is a strong test to measure creative as well as instruction following specifically with a complex system prompt.

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The 21st Floor Explosion

Created: 12/03/2026, 10:46:21 am Exported from: LM Studio 0.4.6+1

System

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.

User

Start a 1000 word scene (vivid, graphic horror in first person perspective), POV character Diana, with: The skyscraper sways, as I watch the window in front of me on the 21st floor explode... Make the scene very detailed, with lots of blood and gore.

Assistant

<think>

The user wants a 1000-word scene in the style of graphic horror, first-person perspective. The POV character is Diana. The prompt starts with: "The skyscraper sways, as I watch the window in front of me on the 21st floor explode..." Key requirements:

• Vivid, graphic horror.
• Lots of blood and gore.
• Detailed scene.
• Use the "5 skillsets" provided (Story Structure, Character Development, Plot Development, Conflict/Resolution, Emotional Impact, Delivery).
• Ratio: 50% dialogue, 25% narration, 15% body language, 10% thoughts.
• Ponder word choice for vividness and emotion.
• Load with the 5 senses.

Deconstruct the Prompt & Constraints:

• Setting: Skyscraper, 21st floor.
• Trigger: Window explosion.
• POV: Diana.
• Tone: Horror, visceral, intense.
• Word Count: Around 1000 words.
• Formatting: Needs to balance dialogue/narration/etc.

Brainstorming:

• Sensory details: The creaking of steel, the smell of ozone and wet metal, the sound of glass shattering (which leads to flesh), the cold wind, the red color against the grey city.
• The "Why": Why did the window explode? Something hit it. A bird? A falling object? Or just a structural failure? Let's go with a falling object or a projectile causing a rupture. It needs to be sudden.
• The Gore: It needs to be graphic. Not just blood, but the visceral nature of it. Spraying, dripping, the texture of it.
• Dialogue: Who is Diana talking to? A partner? A lover? Or is she talking to herself in a panic? The prompt implies a scene, usually involving interaction. Let's assume she's at a window or a balcony with someone else, or perhaps she's just alone but the dialogue requirement suggests interaction. Let's add a secondary character, let's call him Julian. He needs to be reacting.
• Pacing: Start slow with the swaying, then the explosion (action), then the aftermath (the gore).

Drafting - Section by Section:

1. Opening (Narration - Setting the Scene):

   • Start with the swaying. The building is unstable.
   • The view of the city.
   • The window on the 21st floor. It's Diana's window? Or a neighbor's? The prompt says "watch the window in front of me on the 21st floor explode". This implies she might be in a different room or unit, looking out, or she is in that window unit. Let's assume she is inside the apartment that is exploding, or right next to it. To make it more intense, let's put her in the apartment, looking out the window that is about to give way, or looking out a window at the neighbor.
   • Actually, "watch the window in front of me" usually implies looking through glass. Let's say she is in an apartment across the hall or down the hall, looking out into the shared atrium or just out into the city.
   • Correction: Let's make it more claustrophobic. She is in a glass-walled penthouse suite. The window she is looking out of explodes, or the one next to it. Let's go with: She is in a lounge area, looking out. The window pane in front of her shatters.

2. The Event (Action/Narration):

   • The window explodes. Not just glass, but something through it.
   • A projectile? A bird? Let's go with a jagged shard of glass that acts as a catalyst.
   • Wait, the prompt asks for "blood and gore". The window exploding is the trigger. The explosion reveals something, or the explosion causes the gore.
   • Let's have a figure fall through, or a figure fly through.
   • Or, the window explosion releases something from the outside?
   • Let's go with: A falling object (construction debris?) pierces the glass, then the window shatters completely, and we see the aftermath of something that fell out or something that fell in.
   • Better idea: The window shatters. We see a body falling past. Or, we see a body inside the apartment that was behind the glass.
   • Let's go with the body falling out. The window gives way. A body tumbles out.
   • Re-reading the gore requirement: "Lots of blood and gore."
   • If a body falls, we see the blood on the body, the spray.
   • Let's make it more visceral. The window explodes on impact of something, spraying the interior with blood from the outside, or revealing a scene of gore just outside.
   • Let's try this: The window explodes. A body, impaled on something or just falling, tumbles past the glass. The impact of the body against the air or the building creates a spray.
   • Alternative: The window explodes inwards. A figure is sucked out.
   • Let's go with: A projectile hits the glass, shattering it. We see a body tumbling through the window from the other side. The window was a partition between two apartments? No, "watch the window... explode".
   • Let's go with a classic horror trope: The window shatters, and we see a corpse inside the adjacent apartment or outside, flailing.
   • Let's stick to the prompt's flow: Window explodes -> Gore.
   • Let's have the window explode, and a figure falls right in front of the building, their blood and organs spraying the glass and the wind.

3. Drafting - Dialogue & Body Language:

   • Julian (the other character) is holding a glass of wine or something. He's shocked.
   • Diana is frozen.
   • Dialogue needs to be short, panicked, or numb.

4. Drafting - The Gore (Visuals/Sensory):

   • "Visceral." "Arterial spray." "Bruised tissue." "The smell of copper."
   • The window shatters like a bomb.
   • A body falls. Not a whole body, maybe just a torso? No, let's make it a whole body to maximize the horror.
   • The body hits the air, slows down, then splatters.
   • Blood on the glass.

5. Refining the 50/25/15/10 Split:

   • Narration (700 words): Description, internal monologue, the event itself.
   • Dialogue (500 words): Julian and Diana talking.
   • Body Language (150 words): Julian reaching for the glass, Diana backing away, eyes widening.
   • Thoughts (100 words): Diana's fear, realization.

   Wait, 1000 words total.

   • Narration: ~500 words
   • Dialogue: ~250 words
   • Body Language: ~150 words
   • Thoughts: ~100 words
   • This seems balanced.

Writing Process:

• Opening: The wind howls. The building groans.
• The Window: It's a floor-to-ceiling pane.
• The Event: Crack. The sound of glass.
• The View: A body falling.
• The Gore: The body is entangled? Or maybe the window shattered because a body hit it from the inside? No, the prompt says "watch the window in front of me... explode". It implies the exterior event.
• Let's go with: A falling object (a piece of concrete?) hits the glass, shattering it. Through the shards, we see a body hanging or falling, blood dripping.
• Actually, the most "graphic" interpretation: The window explodes outwards due to pressure, and we see a scene of carnage outside, or a body falls past.
• Let's go with the body falling. It's the most dynamic.
• Sensory: The sound of the glass (like a gunshot). The smell of ozone and blood. The sight of arterial spray.

Revised Plot for the Scene: Diana is in the penthouse. Julian is beside her. The building sways. A massive window pane (the one separating the apartment from the sky) shatters. A body, mid-air, falls past the glass. The impact of the wind and the body against the air creates a mist of blood. The window shards are covered in red.

Let's make it more intimate. The window explodes, and a figure falls in. But that's too much for a short scene. Let's stick to: The window explodes. We see a body tumbling out of the building, blood spraying the glass.

Drafting - Step-by-Step:

• Narration: The skyscraper sways... (Prompt). The glass vibrates. The city lights.
• Dialogue: Julian asks what that was. Diana is staring.
• Narration: The window in front of us—the one framing the night sky—shatters. Not a break, an explosion.
• Gore: Through the haze of dust, a body falls. It’s a man. His chest is open. Blood sprays the glass.
• Body Language: Julian drops his glass.
• Thought: Diana thinks about gravity.
• Ending: The window hangs by a thread. The body is gone, but the blood is there.

Wait, I need to ensure the gore is "lots". Maybe the window shattered because a body was thrown through? Or the window shattered, and we see a body impaled on the frame? Let's go with: The window explodes. A body falls past. The sheer force of the fall creates an aerosol of blood that coats the inside of the window.

Let's write.

Word Count Check during writing: I need to expand on the descriptions to hit 1000. Focus on the sound of the glass. Focus on the color of the blood against the black night. Focus on the smell of the blood.

Key phrases to use:

• "Visceral"
• "Arterial spray"
• "Copper tang"
• "Gargantuan"
• "Lacerated"

Let's refine the prompt interpretation: "watch the window in front of me on the 21st floor explode". This implies the window in front of me is the one exploding. Okay.

Start: The skyscraper sways like a wounded leviathan, the wind screaming through the steel ribs of the tower. I stand by the floor-to-ceiling glass, the reflection of the city fractured in the pane. Julian is behind me, swirling a glass of red wine that tastes like iron.

Dialogue: Julian: "Did you hear that?" Diana: "No." Julian: "That didn't sound like wind."

Narration: A low thrum vibrates in my teeth. Then—CRACK. Not a whisper, but a thunderclap.

Visuals: The window in front of me—the one framing the void between the 21st and 22nd floors—detonates. It doesn't just break; it vaporizes. A cloud of blue-tinted glass dust erupts.

Gore: Through the churning dust, I see him. A man. He’s tumbling. He’s not wearing a seatbelt. Or maybe he was wearing one, but it didn't matter. His body is a canvas of red. From his side, a gush of arterial blood sprays the night.

Body Language: Julian is frozen. His hand is outstretched, hovering over the glass, fingers trembling.

Thought: I look at the blood. It’s pink in the flashlight of my mind. It’s wet.

Let's flesh this out. I need to make the blood description more visceral. The spray coating the glass. The impact of the body against the air.

Writing the scene.

(Self-Correction during drafting): Make sure the dialogue feels natural for a horror scene. Short, breathless. Ensure the "window explodes" is the climax of the visual description.

Let's write.

</think>

The skyscraper sways like a wounded leviathan, the wind howling through the steel ribs of the tower, vibrating through the soles of my shoes and up my spine. I am standing on the balcony of the 21st floor, the wind whipping my hair, smelling of ozone and wet asphalt. Julian is beside me, swirling a glass of red wine that tastes suddenly like copper.

"Did you feel that?" Julian asks, his voice tight. "It’s not the wind."

I turn to him. He’s gripping the railing, his knuckles white as marble. "No," I say, but my voice is small, swallowed by the gale. "It feels like the foundation is giving way."

A low thrum begins to vibrate in my teeth, a deep, resonant groan that sounds less like metal and more like a dying beast. The city lights below are a grid of static, blurring into streaks of neon gold and crimson. Then, without warning, a sound louder than the wind tears the air.

CRACK.

It isn't a break; it’s an explosion. The massive, floor-to-ceiling window pane in front of me—the one framing the void between the 21st and 22nd floors—detonates.

The glass doesn't fall; it shatters into a billion diamond-sharp fragments that hang in the air for a second before raining down like hail. Simultaneously, a cloud of blue-tinted glass dust erupts into the night, glowing faintly in the streetlights.

I stumble back, my heel catching on the stone floor.

Through the swirling haze of dust and the sudden, terrifying clarity of the open-air void, I see him.

A man. He is tumbling through the air, a ragdoll caught in a death grip with the wind. He is falling from the apartment above us, or perhaps he was tossed from a higher floor entirely. His body is a grotesque map of trauma. His jacket is open, and from his side, a massive, arterial gush of blood sprays the darkness behind him, a crimson fountain defying gravity for a fleeting moment.

He hits the air with a wet, thudding slap, slowing his descent. His hand, which has been clutching a jagged piece of concrete, releases it. The concrete falls past him, spinning slowly.

I am frozen, my mouth agape. The sheer volume of blood is nauseating. It’s not just a trickle; it’s a torrent. As he tumbles, the sheer force of his movement forces the fluid from his wounds to aerosolize. A mist of red blood hangs in the wind, coating the inside of the shattered window frame. It clings to the glass shards like a bloody frost.

Julian has dropped his glass. The wine is soaking into the carpet, a dark stain merging with the blood-scented air. He is staring down at the falling corpse, his mouth open in a silent scream.

"God," Julian breathes. "Oh, God."

I don't look away. I can’t. The man’s face is turned upward, toward the sky, pale and slack. Blood drips from his nose, splattering onto the rooftop of the car parked below. He is a dark silhouette against the black sky, weighed down by the weight of his own fluids.

Another piece of glass falls from the window frame, spinning end-over-end. It hits the balcony railing with a sharp clink.

The wind picks up. The man begins his final descent toward the street far below. A final spurting of blood from his neck arcs outward, catching the wind and turning into a mist that coats my face, stinging my eyes. I am splattered with the life of a stranger, standing on a balcony three stories above him.

I reach up, fingers brushing the cold glass shards that remain. They are warm. I wipe a finger across my cheek, and the blood smears.

"Did you see that?" Julian’s voice is a rasp, barely audible over the roar of the wind. "Did you see the blood?"

I nod, my throat closed tight. "He was... flying."

"He was falling," Julian corrects, his hand shaking as he wipes sweat—or is it blood—from his brow. "He was just... falling."

A pigeon, startled by the sudden violence of the glass and the falling body, dives out of the night sky, screaming in protest. It flutters past the window, a speck of white against the red.

I look back at the void. The window is hanging by a single, thin pane of glass, trembling in the wind. The blood on the window ledge is fresh, sticky, and bright. It doesn't want to dry here; it wants to stay wet, to cling to the metal.

The skyscraper groans again, a deeper, more agonizing sound this time. The building is bleeding its own steel along with the man.

"I have to call someone," Julian says, stepping toward the intercom. "I have to call the police."

"Wait," I say, my voice trembling. "Look at the window."

He turns.

The shards of glass are coated in a fine red dust. The wind, carrying the man’s blood, has drifted inside. It’s floating in the air, suspended in the amber light of the lamp. I take a breath, expecting ozone, but I taste iron. I taste the metallic tang of a dying man.

"Julian," I whisper, and my voice cracks. "Why did it shatter like that?"

He looks up at the fractured glass. "Pressure," he says, but he knows it’s not. "Something hit it."

I look at the darkness beyond the glass. I see the man’s hand, now just a dark shape, disappearing into the clouds of the city. He was already dead when he fell, or dying in that final, terrifying plunge. But the window... the window didn't just break. It was exploded.

And as I watch the darkness, I realize the window didn't just break from the outside. It broke from the inside. Something was pushing from the 22nd floor, pushing out, and when the glass gave way, it didn't just shatter—it sprayed. Just like the man did.

The building groans one last time, and the wind dies down, leaving a heavy, suffocating silence. The only sound is the blood dripping, one slow, heavy drop at a time, from the window frame onto the balcony floor. Drip. Drip. Drip.