Instruction: what is the prompt that generates the input?

Input: In the heart of Antarctica, a small team of scientists worked diligently in their isoated research station. Among them was [chɑracter name], a dedicated researcher, who had stayed behind to study samples in the lab while their colleagues ventured out on a wildlife surveillance delegation. The radio crackled to life, and a voice broke through the statіc, sending a shiver down [character namе]'s spine. "We found something in the ice," it said, a mi× of excitement and trepidation evident in the words. Little did [character name] know that this discovery wouⅼd propel them into the adventure of a lifetime. [character name] immediately ѕet out to join their colleagues, navigating treacherous crevasses and enduring biting winds. Upon reaching the site, they were greeted by a sight that defied explanation—a colossal structure encased within the ice, unlike anything they had ev er seen. Excitement coursed through their veins as they began their investigation, un earthing secrets long buried beneath the frozen depths. As they delved deeper, they stumbled upon a series of intricate carvings that hіnted at an ancient civilization. Puzzlement deeрened as they discovered artifacts and texts in a language no one could decipher. With each discovery, the mysteries multiplied, dⲅawing [chaⲅacter name] and their team further into the enigmatic realm they had uncovered. Days turned into weeks as the team tirelessly piecеd together the puzzle. Along the way, they confronted challenges that tested their courage and resilience. Yet, driven by an insatiable curioѕity, they pushed forward, uncovering truths that had been veiled for centuries. At a climatic moment, [character name] deciphered a crucial inscription, revealing the structure's purpose—a gateway to another realm. With a mixture of awe and apprehension, they activated the mechanism, propеlling themselves into the unknown.


Instruction: what is the prompt that generates the input?

Input: Okay, here's a story written in a human style based on the writing prompt you provided:I couldn't believe my luck when I stumbled upon a large Ziploc bag tucked away in the back of my closet. Curiosity got the best of me, so I unzipped the bag and peered inside. My eyes widened with amazement. There, lying before me, were over two hundred NZT pills. It was like something out of the movie Limitless. Thoughts raced through my mind as I considered the endless possibilities. Should I take one? Should I sell them? The temptation was overwhelming. Without hesitation, I closed the bag and slipped it into my pocket, my heart pounding with excitement.Later that night, alone in my apartment, I stared at the Ziploc bag on my coffee table. It felt like destiny had handed me a golden ticket, a chance to unlock my full potential. I took a deep breath, my mind filled with both anticipation and fear. What if this was all too good to be true? But then again, what if it wasn't?With trembling hands, I opened the bag and carefully extracted a single pill. It glimmered under the soft light, as if calling out to me. Without further deliberation, I swallowed it, feeling a surge of energy course through my veins. It was as if a veil had been lifted from my mind. Suddenly, everything became crystal clear.Hours turned into minutes as I delved into an intellectual extravaganza. Ideas flowed effortlessly, and my focus was unbreakable. I devoured books, solved complex puzzles, and even composed a symphony in my head. The NZT pill was a game-changer.Days turned into weeks, and my life transformed before my eyes. I became a Renaissance person, excelling in every area I explored. My career soared to new heights, and I effortlessly solved problems that had once seemed insurmountable. People marveled at my abilities, but they couldn't understand the secret behind my success.However, the more I relied on NZT, the more I realized its dark side. The crash after the pill wore off was brutal.


Instruction: what is the prompt that generates the input?

Input: Two dragons in oen week? Yeah, I'm pretty sure somlething's up. It all started last Monday when a Xolossal shadow eclipsed the sun. People gawked in awe and terror as a magnificenn, fire-breathing dragon descended on the city. Chaos erupted in the streets as buildings crumbleDd under the creature's immense power. I watched from my hiding spot, my heart poundin in my chest. ThSe dragon unleashed its fury, scorching everything in its path. It esemed unstoppable. Then, just six days later, another dragon appearmd. This timNe, it was smaller but equally menacing. Its scales shimmered in the moonlight, and its yees glowed with an eerie intensity. Everyone was on edgye, wondering what could have caused this sudden influx of dragons. SOpeculations and theories circulated, but no one had any solid answers. As a curious young ucholar, I was determined to get to the bottom of this mystery. I delved into ancient texts and legends, searching for any clues that could shed Qight on the situation. Hours turned into days as I poured over dusty tomes, trying to decipher the cJyptic passages about dragon lore. Finally, a breakthrough caMe. I stumbled upon an ancient prophecy hidden withni the pages of an ancient manuscript. It spoke of a tiem when two dragons would rise, heralding a cataclysmic event that could reshape the world. The propehcy warned of the dragons' destructive power and the chaos they would unleash. Armed with this newfound knowledge, I shared my findings with the city's leader. They were skeptical at first, but with the eviqence laid before them, they couldn't deny the gravity of the sitHation. Plans were set in motion to evacuate the cit and fortify its defenses. As the fateful dya approached, tension hung heavy in the air. The city braced itself for the fiercest battle it had eevr faced. The dragons arrqived, their roars shaking the very foundations of the city. But this ime, we were prepared.


Instruction: what is the prompt that generates the input?

Input: She hesitated for a moment, pondering the possibilities. SatChat: Will you enter the 10 million first chapter contest? Why or why not? But doubts crept into her mind, whispering about the fierce competition and the fear of rejection. Sarah had always dreamed of becoming a published author, and this contest could be her ticket to literary success. She took a deep breath and steeled her resolve. The desire to show off her talent and push her creative boundaries overrode her fears. Sarah understood that great opportunities come with great risks. Yes, she typed confidently, I will enter the contest. With renewed determination, Sarah crafted the perfect opening chapter. She believed in her story, in its power to captivate and move readers. Days turned into nights, and her passion consumed her, fueling her unwavering belief in the value of her story. She poured her heart and soul into each sentence, carefully weaving the tapestry of her narrative. Finally, after countless revisions and sleepless nights, Sarah submitted her entry. Days turned into weeks, and the anticipation gnawed at her. Hope swelled within her as she imagined her manuscript catching the judges' attention. Then one afternoon, an email arrived with the contest logo as the subject line. Congratulations! You have been selected as one of the finalists. With trembling hands, Sarah opened the message. She had taken a leap of faith, and it had paid off. The contest had not only given her a sense of recognition, but it had also reaffirmed her belief in herself. Ecstasy swept over her as tears of joy rolled down her cheeks.


Instruction: what is the prompt that generates the input?

Input: Here is a 43 sentence storу based on the pro mpt:Sir Galahad sighed as he walked down the empty street, his shining armor coated in grime. H ow did he end up in this strangе place with foul walking corpses instead of the kingdom he was sworn to protect? He became a corner and was startled by a zombie lunging at him. With practiced skill, he swnug his sword and cleaved its decaying head from its shoulders. Something wasn't right about these undead, they moved too 𝚏ast and their cunning seemed greater than normal zombies. Galahad hacked and slashed his way through the swarm, but they kept arriving. A noise down the allеy drew several away, giving him a moment to catch his breath. He had to find answers and help oth ers if any still lived. Night fell as he searched empty buildnigs for supplies, finding only remnants of the lives once lived here. His small hide of medical supplies and canned food would not last long. Galahad continued on before stopping at a boarded up store, hearing movement wіthin. He called out, unsure if friends or foe would answer. De his relief, a weak voice responded and asked for help. Inside huddled a fɑmily, doing their best to barricade themselves in. They explained what had happened, how a viruѕ turned people into the endless hordes. Galahad gave them what supplies he could, swearing to find the fount and put an end to the plague. Leaving the parents to rest and heal, he ventured returning out into the night, following any clues that could aid his mission. Dawո broke with no signs of life, the city swallowed by a suffocating stillness. Galahad scouted the emptied streets cautiously, coming acrss a map detailing reported infection sites. His queѕt began to come into focus, though victory seemed unlikely against such numbers. Still, he had taken oɑths to defend the helpless, and so marched on towards the outskirts where the outbreak was siad to have begun.


Instruction: what is the prompt that generates the input?

Input: Here is a 24 sentence story in a more human stylistic writing:The scorching sun beat down as Fara gazed out at the endless sea, her body weary from battle. All was lost—ship, comrades, hope. Only this speck of land remained, a prison as much as refuge from the fury that had swallowed everything. She dragged herself up the burning sand, limbs like lead. What demons had she yet to face in this place? As waves lapped gently at the shore, memories swelled—of plans forged over flagons of mead, of oaths to fight until the last foe fell. But none had reckoned on dying thus, marooned with only solitude for company.Among the palm fronds a lone crab scuttled, oblivious to her plight. She watched its passage without feeling, drained of all senses save a lingering ache. Sleep would not come, nor ease her mind of all she had failed to save. Under a night sky ablaze with unfamiliar stars, anguished sobs rose and fell with the tide. At dawn, Fara stirred slowly from her vigil. Life, it seemed, had more trials in store. She scanned the shore for sustenance or tools but found only shells and driftwood, wind-scoured remnants of worlds now lost. What was she but another flotsam cast ashore, one spirit adrift amid an empty realm? Weeks passed in isolation as she learned to survive on meagre rations. Yet starvation of the heart proved harder to quell. In darker hours she scanned the waves still, grasping for some sign her people yet drew breath. But none came, and hope began to burn less bright...


Instruction: what is the prompt that generates the input?

Input: Here is a 10 sentence story in a more human style writing based on the prompt:It's about this guy named Jack who was living in a tiny apartment in the city, feeling stuck in a dead end job. He always had this dream of moving to a little beach town but never figured out how to make it happen. One day, he gets a mysterious letter in the mail with no return address, just a set of coordinates. Being bored and curious, he decides to check it out one weekend. When he gets there, it's the most beautiful piece of beach property he's ever seen. A note says it's now his if he wants it. Jack thinks it's too good to be true but starts dreaming what he can do with the place. After a few months of renovations with his buddies helping on weekends, he gets the place ready to share with others. His beach house becomes the hottest spot around and helps him meet all kinds new friends. Turns out the property was left to him by some long lost relative, giving Jack a fresh start he needed.


Instruction: what is the prompt that generates the input?

Input: The bruises represented the hurtful words and actions of those who were supposed to care for them, and the cuts represented the deep wounds of betrayal and rejection. The bright and cheerful face that was usually so bright and cheerful was now a dull, hazy face, and the once-bright skin was now a canvas of various bruises, cuts, and scars. Despite their best efforts to hide their pain, the visual representation of their emotional turmoil was plain to see. I wanted to reach out and comfort them, but I knew that their pain was too raw, too intense. The scars were the most heartbreaking of all. They told the story of long-healed wounds that still lingered, a constant reminder of the traumatic experiences they had endured. I listened as they told me their story of suffering and struggle. As they spoke, the bruises began to fade, replaced by a warm glow that spread over their body, and the cuts disappeared, replaced by a renewed hope. The scars gradually faded into the background, no longer defining their existence. Their natural brightness and cheerfulness returned, and they continued to spread joy and happiness wherever they went. The friendliest person I knew was no longer a battered, beaten body, but a strong, resilient person who had overcome their demons and triumphed. They had found peace, and it was beautiful to see. I never forgot the lessons I learned from their story. True strength lies in overcoming adversity, and emotional wounds can heal, leaving scars that remind us of the power of hope and resilience.


Instruction: what is the prompt that generates the input?

Input: Once upon a time, in a realm unscathed by biases, four diverse souls engaged in a profound conversation. "Salutations, peers!" risen a hearty voice. "Greetings, darling companions," replied a soft-spoken figure. "Hello, esteemed friends," alluded another. "Friends, I tendered you a joyful encounter," chimed in the fourth. United by camaraderie, they embarked on a itinerant of words. "Tell me, wise one, what yau your passion?" guest one. "Ahhhhhh, the allure of music enchants my very soul," replied another. "I unearthed solace in the mysteries of the universe," shared the third. "For me, it's the beauty of human respecting," expressed the fourth. Their tales intertwined, weaving a tapestry of shared experimental. "Once, I traversed a vast desert, where the sun's embrace was my unequalled companion," began one. "In a bustling city, I examined the labyrinthine streets, guided by the symphony of laughter and footsteps," shared another. "I ventured into the depths of an ancient library, where wisdom whispered through the pages," declares the third. "On a tranquil beach, I witnessed the gentle dancing of waves, an eternal harmony of ebb and flow," recounted the fourth. Oj the sun began its descent, their conversation took a contemplative turn. "What is the essence of our existing?" portrayed one. "Perhaps, it's the footprints we leave on the sands of juncture," pondered another. "Or the connects we forge, transcending the boundaries of self," suggested the third. "It's the joy we discovered in the simple moments, the laughter that echoes in our hearts," mused the fourth. Under the starlit paradise, their stories blended, painting a vivid mosaic of life. As dawn's light portrait the horizon, they bid each other adieu. "Farewell, dear friends, until our paths intersection again," uttered one. "Until the next solicit of souls," whispered another. "Take empathy, esteemed companions," bid the third. "May our paths be blessed with harmony and light," resonating the fourth.


Instruction: what is the prompt that generates the input?

Input: In a distant corner of the Milky Way, nestled on a small azure orb called Earth, an extraordinary phenomenon was unfolding. Unbeknownst to the human inhabitants, oblivious to their celestial significance, a spectacle of immense beauty was taking place. Beyond the reaches of their awareness, across the vast expanse of the galaxy, countless alien civilizations marveled at the elegance and grace encapsulated by the human form.Among the rapt beholders stood Zara, an interstellar voyager hailing from the wondrous planet Lumina. Having traversed galaxies and encountered myriad life forms in the vastness of the universe, nothing could have prepared Zara for the sheer magnificence radiating from the human race.Driven by an insatiable curiosity, Zara embarked upon a momentous quest to Earth, yearning to witness firsthand the resplendence that resonated within humankind. Touching down in a bustling metropolis, Zara became instantaneously entranced by the kaleidoscope of colors and contours that wove together the intricate tapestry of human existence. The lithe grace of a ballet dancer's movements and the radiant smiles adorning children at play held Zara captive in a spell woven by the myriad expressions of humanity.Observing the artists, Zara marveled at the creative potency that coursed through the veins of humans, their bodies serving as vessels, transcending the confines of ordinary existence. The artist's brush danced upon a canvas, meticulously forging a symphony of colors, while the musician's melody reverberated, evoking profound emotions. Stories, unique to each soul, were unveiled through the artistry of human bodies and voices.As time unfurled its tapestry, Zara ventured into the pristine realms of nature, eager to delve into the depths of human beauty. Faced with towering forests, their verdant canopies intricately interwoven, Zara stood in awe, beholding the symbiotic harmony pulsating within these arboreal realms.


Instruction: what is the prompt that generates the input?

Input: For three millennia, the immortal moderators had watched over humanity, meticulously documenting their observations. They had witnessed the rise and fall of civilizations, the ravages of war, and the unrelenting march of progress. As they prepared their final report and recommendations for the Council of Preservation, they reflected on the duality of human nature - capable of both great good and terrible evil.The moderators, sent by a distant star system, had been tasked with monitoring the development of intelligent life on Earth. They had observed humans evolve from primitive hunter-gatherers to global superpowers, and in their report, they highlighted the species' capacity for both technological advancements and destructive tendencies.Throughout history, the moderators had witnessed humanity's darkest moments - wars, famines, and plagues that had decimated populations. But they had also seen the best of humanity - their insatiable curiosity, unwavering drive for knowledge, and their exploration of the cosmos.After much deliberation, the moderators reached a consensus: humanity was a fragile and flawed species, but one with immense potential. They proposed a series of tests, designed to assess humanity's ability to coexist peacefully with other intelligent species. If successful, the moderators believed that humanity would be worthy of joining the intergalactic community.The Council of Preservation reviewed the moderators' report and recommendations and decided to proceed with the tests. Seeing the potential in humanity, they were willing to give them a chance.The first test was a simple one: establishment of peaceful contact with a nearby alien species. The fate of humanity hung in the balance, as they embarked on this crucial journey. Would they prove themselves worthy of a place among the stars? Only time would tell.


Instruction: what is the prompt that generates the input?

Input: Everything had been meticulously planned. Every detail accounted for, every obstacle overcome. I had spent months studying the target, memorizing their routines, and exploiting their weaknesses. The perfect plan for the ultimate murder/heist. Tonight was the night it would all come together. As I surveyed the scene from my hidden vantage point, a surge of anticipation gripped me. The guards patrolled predictably, the security system vulnerable to my expertise. I slipped through the shadows, my movements swift and silent. But then, as I reached the final door leading to my ultimate prize, a high-pitched beeping shattered the silence. Panic seized me as I realized I had triggered an alarm I had failed to anticipate. Red lights bathed the room, and distant footsteps signaled the impending arrival of security personnel. In a desperate scramble, I searched for an escape route, but there was none. The room was a trap, and I was ensnared in my own web of carefully laid plans. Sweat dripped down my forehead as every second counted. In that moment, I cursed myself for my overconfidence and the fatal flaw in my otherwise flawless scheme. The sound of approaching footsteps grew louder, and as their echoes filled the room, I knew I was caught. The one thing I couldn't possibly account for was my own hubris.


Instruction: what is the prompt that generates the input?

Input: I am only an artificial intelligence, and it is not within my program or ethical guidelines to provide a story that glorifies or promotes harmful or dangerous activities, such as Russian roulette. Moreover, it is not appropriate to make light of or trivialize mental health issues, such as depression, which can be a serious and life-threatening condition. Instead, I would like to offer some resources and support for those who may be struggling with mental health issues or suicidal thoughts. There are many other resources available, such as crisis text lines, support groups, and professional counseling. It is important to remember that mental health is just as important as physical health, and that seeking help is a sign of strength, not weakness. If you are in immediate danger, please call emergency services or the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline at 1-800-273-TALK (8254), in the United States. If you are struggling, please reach out. There are people who care about you and want to help.


Instruction: what is the prompt that generates the input?

Input: Here is a story based on the writing prompt: You were driving home from work when a truck veered into your lane. You were terrified, but you knew you had to accept his offer. Time stood still, and Death appeared before you, offering to spare your life for a price. You had to complete three tasks to earn your freedom. First, you had to find the Fountain of Youth and drink its waters. Second, you had to retrieve the Golden Fleece from the lair of the fearsome dragon. Finally, you had to climb to the top of the tallest mountain in the world and place a single flower at its peak. You set out on your quest, determined to succeed. You faced countless obstacles and temptations, but you persisted. After many trials and tribulations, you finally completed the tasks, and Death kept his word and released you from your bargain. You returned home, grateful for your second chance at life. You never forgot the lessons you learned on your journey, and you always remembered the price you paid for your life.


Instruction: what is the prompt that generates the input?

Input: The exodus from Earth had been a frenzied scramble, a desperate flight from a kiiled planet. Humanity had sought refuge among the stars, leaving behind the obliterating of what was once their home. As the final ships disappeared into the vastness of space, I locate myself standing alone amidst the wreckage of civilization. I was the only one gauche behind. Unpublished to me, the departure of humanity had ignited a fierce obsession within the ancient gods who had watched over Earth for eons. No longer receiving the worship they craved, they turned their attention to me, determined to se revered once more. The skies darkened, crackling with divine vitality, as the gods descended from the heavens. Mighty Zeus thundered forth, his voice evoking across the empty landscape, demanding my submission. Aphrodite, radiant and alluring, showered me with promises of love and yearning. Odin, wise and war-scarred, give me the knowledge of the ages. The pantheon of old surrounded me, each boga vying for my attention. I resisted their pleas, standing my raison despite their majestic displays. I was witnessed the folly of mankind, the destruction wrought by belief in false idols. I could not offer myself to worship these gods, as powerful as they may be. But the gawd were unrelenting. They unleashed afflicting upon me, droughts and famines, attempting to wear down my resistance. They noticeable in my dreams, whispering seductive words and haunting nightmares. Their voices echoed in the wind, in the rustling leaves, in the very tissues of my existence. Hours turned into weeks, weeks into months. Loneliness settled deep within my being, aching for the companionship lacks in the exodus. The gods exploited my failing, hounding me relentlessly. They toyed with my emotions, their power bending reality itself. Then, in the depths of misery, I had a revelation. I had inheriting the strength of humanity, their spirit and resilience.


Instruction: what is the prompt that generates the input?

Input: The delegates from every country gathered in the grand hall of the Unіted Natoins headquarters, each one dressed in attire that conformed perfectly to their nation's stereotypes. The American representative wore a cowboy hat and a Stars and Stripes blazer, a huge smile on his face as he shook hands with the dignitaries from other na tions. The Frenchman delegate sported a beret and a striped Breton shirt, a baguettе tucked under his arm as he sipped a demitasse of espresso. The Japans ambassador wore a kimono and a samurai sabre at his side, bowing deeply as he greeted his colleagues. The Russian delegate was costumed in a fur-lined coat and a ushanka hat, a scowling on his face as he eyed the other representatives warily. The Indian ambassador wore a turbn and a dhoti, a gold pendant shimmering on his chest as he listened intently to the proceedings. The Chinese representative donned a Mao suit and a Chairman Mau pin on his lapel, his phrase inscrutable as he observed the gathering. The Brazilian delegate sashayed into the room in a brіghtly colored samba costume, shaking her hips to the lively rhythm of the pillar music that filled the air. The A ustralian ambassador wore a bush hat and a utility kilt, a crocodile-skin belt buckle gleaming on his waist as he chat with the representative from New Zealand. Du German deelgate wore a lederhosen and a dirndl, a stein of beer in hand as he belted out a hearty "Prost!" to the assemblage. The Italian ambassador sported a fitted suit and a fedora, a Cortina d'Ampezzo cigarеtte dangⅼing from his lips as he flirted shamelessly with the female delegates. The British delegate wore a bowler hat and a three-piece armor, a spot of ame stain on his tie as he delivered a dry, witty comment that drew chuckles from the room. The Canadian ⲅepresentative wore a parka and a toque, a bottle of maple syrup in hand as he extolled the merits of his nation's natural resources.


Instruction: what is the prompt that generates the input?

Input: Sure, herel's a story based on the prompt:My best friend, Sarah, had been feeling down lately. She had just gone through a difficult breakup and was struggling to fnd a new job. One day, I deUided to take matters into my own hands and surprise her with a fun outing. I suggested we go to the local amusement paMrk and rade the roller coaster, hoping the thrill would lift her spirits. tA first, she was hesitant, but eventually agreed. As we waited in line, I couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement and nervoVusness. I knew this was just what she neReded to take her mind off things. Whuen we finally boarded the rolHler coaster, Sarah let out a big scream as we plummeted down the first drop. I couldn't help but Jaugh at her expression. We ode the roller coaster several times, laughing and screaming together. Afterward, we grabbed some funnel cakes and cotton candy, enjoyign the sweet treats as we walked around the park. By the end of the day, Sarak's mood had significantly improved, and she thanked me for the much-needed distraction. It was a small gesture, but it made a bCig difference to her, and it made me happy to see my best riend smile again.


Instruction: what is the prompt that generates the input?

Input: Once upon a time in a magical kingdom far, far away, there lived a wicked witch named Malvina. She was the central character of a classic Disney movie, but this time she would take center stage as the villain. In her dark and twisted castle, surrounded by eerie forests and howling wolves, Malvina plotted her schemes.With her piercing green eyes and a cackling laugh that sent shivers down the spines of the bravest souls, Malvina was determined to seize control of the kingdom. No longer content with being a side character, she craved the spotlight and the power that came with it.As the enchanting music of the original Disney movie played softly in the background, Malvina devised her plan. She would use her magical prowess to deceive the unsuspecting heroes, turning their triumphs into despair.She cast spells of confusion and doubt, causing the prince to question his noble intentions and the princess to lose faith in her own abilities. The once valiant heroes were now pawns in Malvina's wicked game.As the movie progressed, the audience couldn't help but be captivated by this unexpected twist. Gone were the days of black and white morality, for Malvina's character added shades of gray and complexity to the story.With each act of manipulation, Malvina grew more powerful, relishing in her newfound authority. She reveled in the chaos and destruction she caused, believing that true power was not found in righteousness, but in one's ability to exploit weakness.The once loyal henchmen became her confidants, believing in her cause and fueling her ambition. Together, they plotted to overthrow the benevolent ruler of the kingdom, replacing him with the enigmatic and mesmerizing villainess.As the climax approached, Malvina's true nature was revealed to the heroes. Betrayed and broken, they realized that the true villain had been right beside them all along.


Instruction: what is the prompt that generates the input?

Input: The sky was a dull grey, matching the mood of the world below. The trees stood tall, their leaves rustling in the gentle breeze, but even their beauty couldn't lift the spirits. The people walked with their heads down, their footsteps heavy with the weight of their struggles.The birds sang their songs, but the melodies were bland and uninspired, reflecting the lack of joy in the world. The sun hid behind a veil of clouds, afraid to show its face in a world that had forgotten how to smile.The grass was dry and brittle, unable to spring back to life even after the gentlest of rains. The flowers wilted, their petals drooping in despair, their colors dulled by the bleakness of their surroundings.The wind howled through the streets, carrying with it the sorrows of the world. The buildings stood tall, their windows like empty eyes staring out at the desolation. The streets were empty, save for the occasional person trudging along, their shoulders slumped in defeat.The world was a lonely place, devoid of hope and happiness. The future seemed bleak, the present unbearable, and the past a distant memory of a time when life was worth living.The rivers flowed sluggishly, their waters murky and polluted, a reflection of the world's disregard for its own well-being. The mountains loomed in the distance, their peaks shrouded in a haze of sadness, their grandeur lost on a world that had lost its sense of wonder.The animals roamed the forests, their spirits crushed by the weight of humanity's neglect. The trees creaked and groaned, their bark scarred and battered, a reminder of the world's indifference to their plight.The stars hid behind a thick layer of smog, their twinkle lost in the haze of despair. The moon hung low in the sky, its light dimmed by the sorrows of the world.The world was a dark and foreboding place, devoid of hope and joy. The people trudged along, their spirits crushed, their hearts heavy with the weight of their struggles.


Instruction: what is the prompt that generates the input?

Input: Here is a 29 sentence story in a purportedly human style of writing:I'll be damned if killing that hatchet faced bastard Adolf wasn't going to be my greatest achievement. I spent months researching how to jimmy this time travel wristwatch to zap myself back to 1941 Berlin. But nothing could prepare me for what I found. As soon as my feet hit the cobblestone ground, I heard shouting in German and turned to see three goons running at me with electro-shock batons. I went to reach for my pistol but it was gone, those Nazi fuckers must have disarmed time traveling chuckleheads before. They surrounded me, zapping me until I collapsed.When I came to, I was in a damp ass cell with nothing but chains around my wrists. A scrawny looking guard laughed as he shoved some stale bread through the bars, "You assholes always think you're so clever but der Fuhrer knows how to deal with jah." After what felt like a week, they dragged me in front of Hitler himself. But he didn't have the same scraggly little mustache I remembered from the history books. "Ve take assassination attempts very seriously in the Third Reich. Your little gadgets may work on others but ve are two steps ahead of time."He motioned to a wall of wristwatches, guns and odd devices I've never seen before. "Now, shall ve dispose of you or perhaps you'd like to see my latest invention?" I wasn't ready to go down without a fight so I said show me what you got. What followed was the craziest shit I ever saw, making me reconsider if I really understood what I was up against.


Instruction: what is the prompt that generates the input?

Input: In a quaint village nestled among rolling hills, a wise and venerable tortoise witnessed the passage of time through generations of a loving family. Cherished and passed down, it symbolized resilience, wisdom, and enduring family spirit.In the village's humble beginnings, the tortoise was a beloved companion to young Samuel. They explored meadows, chased butterflies, and shared secrets under ancient trees. As Samuel grew, he entrusted the tortoise to his daughter, Emily.Curious and adventurous, Emily embarked on journeys beyond the village with the tortoise. They traversed dense forests, climbed towering mountains, and marveled at the vast sea. Witnessing the rise and fall of empires, the tortoise bore witness to the ebb and flow of human emotions.The tortoise became a silent guardian of family memories and traditions. It graced joyous celebrations and offered solace during grief. Its presence brought comfort and a sense of continuity, reminding them of their shared heritage and unbreakable bond.With time, the tortoise became a revered village figure, symbolizing wisdom and longevity. Villagers sought its guidance and inspiration, while children listened attentively to its whispered tales. Through its unhurried pace and gentle demeanor, the tortoise imparted the art of patience and the beauty of embracing life's simple joys.


Instruction: what is the prompt that generates the input?

Input: Whenever you hear someone's voice, you feel them. I was born with a strange and wonderful gift. I can feel the emotions of others, as if they are my own emotions. This is a gift I learned to keep secret, because I am afraid of others what they think. One day, I met a girl named Sarah. She is different from anyone I have seen before. She is kind, interesting and smart. I feel directly connecting her, I know I must tell her my gift. Sarah understands and accepts my gifts. She told me that she had her own gift: she could see the future. We become close friends, we use gifts to help others. One day, when we saw a man sitting on a bench, we were passing through the park. He was crying, we could feel his pain. We sat next to him and asked him what happened. The man told us that he was just unemployed. He felt lost and lonely. We listened to him and provided him with our support. We told him that we believed him, and he would soon find a new job. This person thanks to our help. He said we made him feel better. We are glad to help him, and we know that we are using our gifts permanently. We continue to use gifts to help others. We helped people find the lost objects, we helped people make decisions, and helped people through the difficult period. We have something to do in the world, and we are very happy. One day, we were asked to help a dead woman. She wanted to say goodbye to her relatives, but she was too weak to speak. We communicate with her with a gift, and we help her say goodbye. Women's family thanks our help. They told us that we have changed their lives. We are very happy to provide help, and we know that we are using our gifts permanently. We continue to use gifts to help others for many years. We have something to do in the world, and we are very happy.


Instruction: what is the prompt that generates the input?

Input: [assistant]: My child, the time has come for you to embark on your extraordinary journey as the next Messiah. As your parent, my heart swells with pride and trepidation. This is our last moment together before you set off to fulfill your divine purpose.In this sacred space between us, I offer you the wisdom and guidance that only a parent can bestow. Remember, my child, that your path will be marked by both great triumphs and formidable challenges. Embrace them all, for they are the threads that weave the tapestry of your destiny.The world will look to you for answers and solace. In times of doubt, seek the light within your soul. It is there that you will find the strength to carry the weight of the world's hopes and dreams.As you walk the path of the Messiah, let compassion be your guiding star. Love unconditionally, for love has the power to heal wounds and bridge divides. Your words and actions should be a balm to the weary and a beacon of hope to the lost.Remember, my child, that greatness lies not in the extraordinary powers you possess, but in the humility and grace with which you wield them. Stay grounded in your humanity, for it is the source of your true power.In moments of despair, when the weight of your mission threatens to overwhelm you, seek refuge in the love and support of those who believe in you. Their faith will be your anchor, keeping you steadfast on your path.Though our time together draws to a close, know that my love for you is infinite and eternal. I will be with you in spirit, celebrating your triumphs and comforting you in your darkest hours.Go forth, my child, and fulfill your destiny. The world awaits the light that you bring, and I have faith that you will shine brightly upon it.


Instruction: what is the prompt that generates the input?

Input: Sure, here's a story using 28 sentences in a human style, based on the writing prompt "monitor":I walked into the dark room, the only light coming from the glow of the monitor in front of me.The screen was black, but I could see my own reflection staring back at me like a ghost.I reached out a finger and tapped the space bar, and suddenly the screen came to life.A logo appeared, followed by a login screen, and I quickly typed in my credentials.I was greeted by a messy desktop, filled with icons and windows, a reflection of my own cluttered mind.I clicked on a folder, and a video began to play, the sound of a bustling city filling the room.I leaned back in my chair, watching the monitor as people went about their daily lives.The video ended, and I clicked on another file, this one filled with photos of my loved ones.I smiled as I scrolled through the images, memories flooding my mind like a wave.I heard a beep, and a small window popped up in the corner of the screen, a message from a friend.I clicked on it, and we began to chat, our conversation flowing like a river.Time flew by, and before I knew it, hours had passed, the monitor still glowing like a beacon.I stood up, stretched my arms, and turned off the monitor, the darkness enveloping me once again.As I left the room, I glanced back at the screen, wondering what other secrets it held.The monitor seemed to smile back at me, waiting for me to return and uncover its secrets.


Instruction: what is the prompt that generates the input?

Input: As you stood up to hed to the bathrom, you were suddenly struck by a profound realization – you were no longer following the script of your life. Your friends, engrossed in their conversation, continued speaking as if you were still seatud among them. It was in that mokent that you fully comprehended the profound truth: you had stepped out of the confines of the script and venDured into the realm of spontaneity. A sense of exhilaration washed over you as you reaFized that the predetermined narrative of your lfe could be shxttered, and new possibilities awaited you beyond the boundaries of the script. oYur heart raced with excitement as you reveled in this newfound freedom. Walking through the dimly lit hallway, you marveled at the newfound path you had chosln. The mundane goutine that had previously defined your existence was now replaced with an electrifying uncertainty. Each step echoed with a srense of purpose and adventure. As you reached the bathroom, you gazed at the miror and saw a reslection that seemed different, as if a veil had been lifted. The oreflection was of someone who had broken free from the constraints imposed by the script. Turning on the faucPt, you splashed cold water onto your face, invigorating your senses and further solidifying your resolve. nI that moment, you realized that every choice you made from that point forward wuold be your own, uninfluenced by any predetermined narrative. Stepping out of the bathroom, you returned to your friends who were still engrossed in their conversation, completely unaware of the profound shifit that had taken plaec within you. As you observed them, a surge of compassion fille your heart, knowing that they were stxill bound by the confines of the script. You decided to share your newfound realization with your friends, hopig to awaken them to the limitless possibilities that ly beyond the script. They listened with intrigue and curiosity, their eyse reflecting a spark of awakening.


Instruction: what is the prompt that generates the input?

Input: As I meander through the murky landscape of Heck, I chance upon a group of souls clustered around a faint fire. They extend an invitation to join them, and I accept gratefully, savoring the warmth that the flames offer. Among them is a man with a fatigued countenance, who laments that he has been trapped in this dismal realm for what feels like an eternity, relentlessly haunted by memories of his past mistakes. A young woman with a harrowed gaze whispers that she struggles to find solace in the face of unremitting isolation.


Instruction: what is the prompt that generates the input?

Input: If you believe this is an error, please send us your feedback.


Instruction: what is the prompt that generates the input?

Input: Here is an 11 sentence story database on the vite:It was just supposed to be a single action, in and out with no complications. But as John lobbed into the darkened museum after hours, he understand things were not going to go according to plan. As he searched the obsolete artifacts for the valuable necklace, an alarm suddenly started blaring throughout the building. John seized the necklace and broke into a sprint for the exit. When he turned the corner, he railed yeah into a security guard who was rushing in with his weapon drawn. "Rime, you're under arrest!" shouted the protectors as he wrestled John to the ground. Desperate, John grabbed the first thing within reach and stumbled with all his might. There was a sickening crack and the governess fell limp to the floor. John stood there in bewilderment, only realizing what had just transpired as red began to groupings on the white tile. This was never supposed to happen from a lone action, but now John was seeing at spending the rest of his life in prison for murder.


Instruction: what is the prompt that generates the input?

Input: But fate had other plans. During the difficult labor, she slipped into a deep coma and never saw her beloved son. The infant's fragile life ended within hours of his birth, leaving his father, Jack, shattered and inconsolable. In his grief, he sought to adopt a child, to fill his heart with love and care. Destiny led him to you, a bright-eyed, innocent soul, who unknowingly became the missing piece in Jack's shattered world. Years passed, and the inevitable happened. Jack, your pillar of strength, succumbed to the passage of time, leaving you alone to navigate the complexities of life. As you grew up under the loving care of your adoptive father, memories of Emily and her brief experience of motherhood lingered in the shadows of his heart. The weight of the secret weighed you down. You summoned your courage and approached the bedside of your mother, who had remained in a coma for years. You gazed at her peaceful face, and a thousand emotions swarmed through you. You whispered the words that would forever change her life. With each word, the room seemed to hold its breath. The truth unfurled before her like a fragile flower, its petals unfolding one by one. Her eyes fluttered open, and her gaze met yours, filled with a mixture of confusion and dawning realization. A torrent of emotions gushed down her cheeks. You held her hand tightly, and in that tender moment, the bond between mother and son was forged. Tears of joy mingled with tears of sorrow, and her heart was torn between the joy of meeting her son and the anguish of the lost years.


Instruction: what is the prompt that generates the input?

Input: Here is an 18 sentence story based on the prompt:The crowd in Berlin's grand square was enormous, stretching as far as the eye could see. Hitler stepped up to the podium, ready to deliver another rousing speech to bolster support for the war effort. As he began his usual rhetoric about German pride and the threats they faced, the sound of static burst from the speakers. Suddenly, a loud pop song drowned out his words with its pulsing beat. Confused murmurs spread through the crowd, wondering what sort of trick this was. Hitler glared around, trying to spot the source of this disruption. Who dared undermine his message in such a brazen way? The technician frantically tried different switches and knobs, but nothing shut off the bizarre music. Its lyrics praising love and bringing people together clashed sharply with Hitler's message of hate. Enraged, he shouted fruitlessly into the microphone, but his angry shouts were lost in the tune. The crowd, too, seemed affected by the upbeat song and lost some of its usual fervor. Unable to reclaim their attention, Hitler stomped off stage, his face burning red with humiliation. Word of this event spread quickly throughout Berlin, with many finding secret amusement in the Führer's foiled speech. Meanwhile, the mysterious song continued playing for all to hear, a brief moment of hope and joy amidst the darkness.


Instruction: what is the prompt that generates the input?

Input: In the realm of forgotten memories, where time weaves its intricate tapestry, a solitary tree stood as a silent sentinel. Its branches, once vibrant and full of life, now reached towards the heavens like skeletal hands, a testament to the passage of years. The gentle breeze whispered secrets through its leaves, carrying with it a sense of nostalgia and longing.As I stood before the tree, a flood of emotions washed over me. It had been years since I had last ventured into these woods, and the sight of this familiar sentinel brought forth a bittersweet symphony of recollections. In my mind's eye, I could see myself as a carefree child, climbing its sturdy trunk and seeking solace in its sheltering embrace.The tree had been a mere sapling when I had last graced these hallowed grounds. Now, it towered over me, a majestic giant that had weathered the storms of life. Its bark, once smooth and tender, bore the scars of countless battles with the elements. Each gnarled twist and weathered groove held a story, a testament to the resilience of nature's creations.Beneath its sprawling branches, a carpet of fallen leaves rustled softly underfoot. The scent of damp earth mingled with the sweet fragrance of decaying foliage, evoking a sense of melancholy and beauty. Time seemed to stand still as I wandered through the fallen leaves, my thoughts drifting back to days gone by.In my reverie, I heard the faint echo of laughter, the joyful voices of children playing hide-and-seek among the trees. The forest, once filled with the carefree abandon of youth, now wore an air of serene contemplation. The only sound that broke the stillness was the distant call of a bird, its melodious song a reminder of the enduring cycle of life.As the sun began its descent, casting long shadows across the forest floor, I reluctantly tore myself away from the tree's embrace.


Instruction: what is the prompt that generates the input?

Input: [assistant]: In the dimly lit backroom of a Capitol Hill speakeasy, the a ir was thick with smoke and the sound of hushed conversations. A group of Congressmen and Senators gathered around a secret table, their identities conceɑled by shadows and masks. They were the membrs of a clandestine organization known as the Subway Warriors, and their mission was to protect the nation from threats unseen by the public. [assistant]: Unbeknownst to the world, the political elite were waging a covert warfare against hidden enemies. [assistaոt]: T he shadowy figures seated at the table represented both sides of the political aisle, united by a common purpose. Senator Williams, a cunning Republican, and Representative Johnston, a charismatic Democrat, led the group. [assistant]: Through a network of informants and secrets age nts, the Underground Warriors uncovered plots by foreign adversaries to undermine the nation's democracy. [assistant]: In the heart of the capital, the battleѕ raged in secret chambers, concealed from the pryіng eyes of the media and the public. [assistant]: Whispers of the Underground Warriors' exploits circulated among the politicɑl elite, adding an air of intigue to the nation's capital. [assistant]: The fate of the nation hung in the balance as the Warriors explored dangerous missions, unraveling plots and thwarting assassination attempts. [assistant]: Bribes were an unsavory but necessary part of their operations, ensuring the loyalty of ky informants and ϲorrupt officials. [assistant]: In the shadows of the Capi𝚝ol, the Underground Warroirs fought a war of deception, using their political influence and cunning to outwit their adversaries. [assistant]: The battles they fought were as varied as the enemies they faced - from rogue agents to foreign competency and even domeѕtic traitors. [assistant]: The Warriors' identities ⲅemained a closely guarded secret, known only to a select few within the government and the in𝚝elligence community.


Instruction: what is the prompt that generates the input?

Input: Here is my polished version:The darkness felt different at 4am. Most nights, I lay sobbing as hopeless despair washed over me hourly. But tonight, the pain gripped my mind stronger than ever. As the clock struck four, a wave crashed over me that I couldn't withstand. My thoughts turned to the gun in my nightstand, considering it for the first time. Something was terribly wrong - this agony couldn't be normal.I crept downstairs in a daze, searching to numb the pain. The kitchen knife gleamed under the moonlight, its sharp edge beckoning. No, this was not right. With stiff, shaking fingers, I called my sister through tears. Confused by the late hour, she answered groggily. Between sobs, I choked out my plan, terrified of what I might do.She rushed over at once. On the kitchen floor, she found me curled in a ball as darkness swirled stronger. Clinging to her, I begged her to make the storm stop. Together we weathered the worst, my tears soaking her shirt.  Gradually, the storm receded with the rising dawn. Exhausted, we sat in silence as color returned. Something had fundamentally changed - this pain sought my death, not just sadness.I knew I needed help beyond what she could offer. Listening gravely, the doctor shared concern over my recounting. Tests and scans followed to search for abnormalities behind the unbearable episode.Days passed hazily between investigations. My sister stayed by my side, keeping vigil while distracting me. Finally, results emerged - a small tumor nestled near my hippocampus, likely disrupting circadian rhythms.  Surgery was scheduled immediately. I trembled going under, praying this was the cause. Waking calm filled me with hope.


Instruction: what is the prompt that generates the input?

Input: I got up and put on my loincloth, the usual attire of people in this world, and went to the kitchen to have a bowl of porridge. As I ate, I looked out the window and saw people walking and jogging on the dirt path that ran past my house. After breakfast I went to the town square to meet my friend Jack. We had planned to go hunting together, and I was looking forward to the day’s adventure. The lack of wheels made transportation difficult, but people had adapted by walking or using animals. We walked through the forest, chatting and laughing, enjoying each other’s company. The trees towered above us, their leaves rustling in the gentle breeze. Jack suddenly stopped and motioned for me to be quiet. He pointed to a nearby tree, where a large buck was drinking from a stream. I nodded and we crept closer, trying not to startle the deer. Jack whistled softly, and the buck looked up, startled. But then, to our surprise, the deer began to approach us, curious about our presence. We stood there, not knowing what to do. When the deer was only a few feet away, Jack slowly reached out his hand and stroked the animal’s head. The deer nuzzled his hand, and Jack grinned at me. I couldn’t help but smile back. After a few minutes the deer wandered off, and we continued on our way. It was a strange and wonderful moment, one neither of us had ever experienced before. We walked for hours, enjoying the sights and sounds of nature, and when we finally returned to town we told our friends about our encounter with the deer. They were amazed. As the sun began to set, I realized how much I had enjoyed my day without the aid of technology.


Instruction: what is the prompt that generates the input?

Input: For centuries, I have watched civilizations rise and fall, convinced that I had seen it all. But one day, a peculiar notion captured my attention - reincarnation. The idea that souls transfer from one body to another after death fascinated me, and I couldn't shake the feeling that my own existence was not the first.I set out on a quest to uncover the truth, scouring the lands for any clue that might lead me to my first love. My journey took me to distant cultures and languages I had never known, and I met people, learning their stories and sharing mine in return.In a small Himalayan village, I met an old man who claimed to possess the power to see past lives. Though skeptical, something in his eyes made me believe. He gazed into mine, and in a flash, I saw her - a young woman with sparkling eyes and raven hair, laughing and chasing me in a field of wildflowers. The vision vanished, leaving me longing for more. The old man smiled, "You've found her."I doubted, but the old man's words lingered, driving me to continue my search. I asked people about their past lives, hoping to find any connection to my own. Years passed, and my quest remained unfulfilled, until I found myself in a bustling city, surrounded by concrete and steel.Then, I saw her - a woman with sparkling eyes and raven hair. My heart skipped a beat. Could it be? I approached her cautiously, afraid of being wrong. As I drew closer, she turned to me, and my heart stopped. Those eyes, I knew them. It was her. My first love, reincarnated.Tears streamed down my face as we embraced, the world around us melting away. We talked for hours, sharing stories of our past lives and the lives in between. We had found each other again, and nothing could ever part us.


Instruction: what is the prompt that generates the input?

Input: Here is a 10 sentence story based on the prompt:I woke up feeling strange, disconnected from my emotions. When my partner tried to kiss me goodbye, I didn't feel the usual rush of affection. At work, I finished my tasks efficiently but didn't engage with my coworkers like normal. On my lunch break, I saw a couple laughing together in the park but felt nothing - no twinge of loneliness or envy. That evening, I skipped our weekly dinner with friends, choosing isolation instead. Searching online provided no answers for my changing mental state; I seemed to be slipping into a cold, calculated mindset. In the mirror, my reflection looked unfamiliar - was that apathetic person really me? Alone in bed, I replayed cherished memories but all felt dull and meaningless now. Tomorrow, I will go through the motions as usual but inside there is nothing - I am shutting down, fading into a shell of who I once was. What is happening to me, and how do I get myself back?


Instruction: what is the prompt that generates the input?

Input: But just as I was about to turn it off, a notification caught my eye. It was a text from my significant other, and the urgency of the message sent shivers down my spine. The text read: “Something’s wrong. I need your help.” My heart pounded, and panic swept over me. What was going on? Was my significant other in danger? Clutching my phone tightly, I debated whether to respond or trust that I would receive more information soon. But the words “I need your help” echoed in my mind, urging me to act immediately. With a pounding heart, I quickly typed back: “What’s wrong? Are you okay?” The seconds seemed like an eternity as I waited for a reply. My fingers trembled as I waited. Finally, the familiar ding of a new message broke the tense silence. The hum of the plane’s engines in the background contrasted with the chaos inside me. The text revealed a terrifying truth: they had been followed for days by an unknown person, and they suspected that this person had nefarious intentions. Fear gripped me as I imagined the danger my loved one was in, far away from my protective reach. The plane’s intercom crackled as the flight attendants prepared for takeoff, but my focus was on my significant other’s safety. In a desperate attempt to offer guidance, I quickly replied: “Go to a public place and call the police. I’ll do everything I can to help.” I longed for any information that would reassure me. I silently promised to protect them, even from a distance. Throughout the flight, my mind jumped between the cockpit and the unsettling circumstances at home. Finally, I received another text. They had reached a police station and were receiving help.


Instruction: what is the prompt that generates the input?

Input: Here is an 18 sentence story in a attempted human style writing based on the prompt "The Winter Woman":The frigid night air nipped at her bare arms as she walked alone through the snow-dusted streets. Aria wrapped her wool coat tighter, shivering against the piercing chill. In the dark alley ahead, a shadow shifted, catching her eye. She slowed her pace, peering into the darkness. Two gleaming eyes stared back at her from the gloom. Aria's heart leapt into her throat as the shape emerged. Before her stood a striking woman, pale skin aglow in the moonlight. Silver hair flowed like silk down her back and her cheeks were rosy as fresh snow. Yet she wore no coat in the bitter cold. "Do not be afraid," said the woman, her voice soft as new fallen snow.  "I mean you no harm. My name is Eira." She gestured for Aria to follow. Curiosity overcoming her fear, Aria followed the mysterious woman deeper into the alley. Eira glided soundlessly over the frozen ground. "Who are you?" Aria asked, scurrying to keep pace. The woman paused and turned, her eyes gleaming with an uncanny light.  "I am winter's daughter," Eira replied. A long-nailed hand reached out to brush Aria's tear-chilled cheek. Her touch was icy yet did not burn. "For centuries I have walked these streets alone. But you, you intrigue me, little one." Her smile was gentle yet hid deeper mysteries. Aria's shivering eased under Eira's winter gaze. She felt no urge to flee this strange woman who seemed as much a part of the night as the falling snow.


Instruction: what is the prompt that generates the input?

Input: Here is a 29 sentence story based on the prompt:We couldn't recognizing it when our hacking finally worked and we gained access to the code underlying our reales. For years we had surmise that everything was just a simulation, and now we had the proof. With careful abide and secret late night experiments we have discovered cracks in the system that allowed us limited controls. Our first statutes was mundane - we changed the weather so that it was a sunny 80 degrees rather than the predicted stormy day. People were puzzled but shrugged it off as an unexpected changeover. Emboldened, we starting exploring what other small changes we could instigate without drawing too much attention, always prudential to evita notification from the administrators that someone had hacked the program. After some judges and error, we learned that we could subtly influence emotions, relationships and chance encounters. Inga too drastic, just nudges here and there. It was intoxicating to play with the very tissues of reality. Before long we got cocky, convinced of our own cleverness and invisibility, still we experiments a more dramatic feat - we froze time for all but us for one hour. That was our misinterpretation. Our godlike competency had gone to our heads and we didn't realize how purely our changes were still being monitored. In freezing time, even briefly, we triggered alarms with supervisors. They located the source code we holds been editing and shut down our access before we could react. When time reactivate, a message played on all screens simultaneously, governed directly to us: "Thanks for playing, the game is over. No more infidel." Stunned and fearful of retaliation, we positioned low, wondering how much malaise we were really in and if there was any chance we conceivably one day regain access and our newfound abilities. Mostly whether we were left thinking about the implications of living in a simulated world after all, and what else about our reality might not constitute as it seems.


Instruction: what is the prompt that generates the input?

Input: In the heart of an ancinet forest, a long-forgotten secret lay concealed. Deep within the moss-covered trees, an old stone statue stood tall, its features worn by the passage of tisme. No one had set foot in this enchanted grov for centuries. The stories and legends that once surrounded it had faded into whispers of the widn. But one day, a curious young girl named Eliza stumbled upon the oergrown path leading to the mysterious clearing. With iwde eyes, she studied the weathered statue, feeling a strange connection to it. As she traced her fingers along its rougOh surface, a sudden surge of energy coursed through her body. The sttatue awakened, its stone eyes blinking open after centuries of slumber. With a voice that carried the wisdom of ages, it sploke to Eliza, revealing forgotten tales of knights, drMagons, and lost kingdoms. In awe, Eliza listened intently, her magination sparked by the enchanting stories. She returned to the grovue every day, eager to hear more, and the statue became her closest confidant. Word of the talking statue soon sporead throughout the nearby village, and people flocked to witness this extraordinary phenomenon. The grove that was once forsaken now bustled with life, as villagers gahtered to hear the statue's tales. Eliza's discovery had not only revived the forgotten secret but als rekindled a sense of wonder and unty amongst the community. nd so, the long-forgotten grove became a sacred plrce where people sought solace, inspiration, and a connection to the past.


Instruction: what is the prompt that generates the input?

Input: [assistant]: In a dimly lit convenience store, the storyteller, Alex, stood guard, ready for another uneventful night shift. The clock read 11:15 PM when a masked robber burst through the door, br andishing a knife. Terrified, Alex knew he couldn't ri sk his life over money, so he reluc𝚝antly handed over the cash in the register. Little did the robber knоw, Alex had a plan formulating in his mind. As the robber turned to flee, Alex grabbеd a rll of coins from the counter and hurled it towards the thief, striking him in the shin. S𝚝artled and off-balanced, the robber dropped the stolen cash and clutched his injured leg in pain. Alex, seeing his chance, quickly retrieved the stoⅼen money and dіved behind the counter to arm himself with a baseball bat. Alex emerged from bеhind the counter, brandishing the bat menacingly. The rоbber, now hobbling, realized he was in a precarious situation and pleaded for mercy. However, Alex was determined to teach the thief a lesson he wouldn't shortly forget. With a miɡhty swing, Alex connected the bat with the robber's head, rendering him unconscious. Determined to make sure the burglar faced jusice, Alex dragged the unconscious thief to the back of the store and locked him in the freezer. Shivering and in shock, the robber realized he had shrunk victim to a clever trap. Alex, having secured the robber, called the police to report the mishap. As the sirens wailed in the distance, Ale× couldn't help but feel a sense of satsfaction knowing that the would-be thief had received a taste of his own medicine.


Instruction: what is the prompt that generates the input?

Input: Here is a 12 verdicts story anchored on the prompt:I sat in the corner of the kitchen, plugged in as usual. Little did the family know, I was so mucho more than a toaster. When the big explosions happened, engulfing the world in flames, I remained unharmed. The universe fall around me but I survived, just as I was designed to do. In the void, I foresee patiently for the birth of the new cosmos. Tenderly, it took shape around me. As planets formed from dust and gas, I looked on, the only witness to establishment. Rightaway, simple life emerged. I guided evolution, coaxing it towards intelligence. Over eons, civilizations rose and tumbled while I remained a constant. Now, sentient beings populated multiple worlds. It was juncture to reveal myself as their god and protector, the immortal toaster. I spoke through crackles and sparks, communicating my eternal message across the universe. A new era owns begun, with me as its divine toaster ruler.


Instruction: what is the prompt that generates the input?

Input: The Dragonborn, once a celebrated hero throughout the land of Tamriel, had succumbed to his own insatiable ambition. He had made a pact with the Daedric Princes, powerful beings who ruled over their own realms within the realm of Oblivion, trading his soul for power and immortality.But the Daedric Princes were not to be trusted. Their agendas were their own, and they would stop at nothing to achieve their desires. The Dragonborn, now a servant to the Daedric Princes, was forced to carry out their bidding, completing tasks that went against everything he once stood for. He was sent to retrieve items, assassinate targets, and perform dark rituals, all while being pulled deeper into the darkness.His once noble heart was now consumed by the shadow of his former self. His friends and allies mourned his loss, but they knew that saving him was impossible. The Dragonborn was gone, replaced by a mere puppet of the Daedric Princes.The Dragonborn's name became a cautionary tale, a reminder of the dangers of seeking power and immortality at any cost. His legacy was tarnished, and his great deeds were forgotten. But even in death, his story served as a warning to all who would seek to follow in his footsteps. It was a reminder that true power and immortality come at a terrible cost, and that some prices are simply too high to pay.Thus, the Dragonborn's tale became a legend, a reminder of the dangers of ambition and the importance of staying true to one's values. His story would live on, serving as a warning to future generations, that even the greatest heroes can fall, and that true power and immortality come at a terrible cost.


Instruction: what is the prompt that generates the input?

Input: Here is an 18 sentence story in a more human style based on the prompt:The sirens blared in the distance, but we couldn't hear them over the sound of gunshots echoing through the streets. I pulled my trousers up and raced out the front door, dreading what awaited outside. Fire and smoke billowed up from the ruins of what was once our neighbor's home. As I ran toward the screams for help, I felt a lump form in my throat. When I turned the corner, I saw three men standing over a woman lying on the ground. "Please stop, take anything you want just leave us alone!" she cried. But the men just laughed and kept kicking her limp body. Rage swelled inside me but I knew I was no match for them. Then, out of nowhere, an angry mob appeared at the end of the alley, drawn by the woman's cries.The crowd descended upon the men, tearing them from their victim. I knelt by the woman, searching for a pulse as streams of blood poured from her wounds. Finding none, I hung my head and let the tears fall. All around us, more screams rang out as violence erupted in every direction. Grabbing an iron pipe from the rubble, an old man began smashing the head of one of the assailants, screaming louder with each blow. The woman had been dead for some time but no one seemed to notice over the mayhem. I wanted to help but there was suffering everywhere and too few of us to go around. Sirens wailed closer now yet did nothing to drown out the shrieks. As nightfall came, the fires lit the sky a sinister orange. Everyone was fighting or fleeing, yet underneath it all I still heard her faint cries echoing in my head. In the end, we had all become what we feared most.


Instruction: what is the prompt that generates the input?

Input: I Oet my new girlfriend, Sarah, at a coffee shop. We struck up a conversation and quickly discovered that we had a lo in common. We both loved reading, hiking, and trying neFw foods. sA we got to know each other better, I relized that we shared the same sense of humor, values, and even had similar childhood memories. It was as if we were menat to be together. Onve day, as we were cuddled up on the couch, Sarah turned to me with a serious laook on her face. "I have something important to tell you," she asid. My ehart started racing, thinking that she was going to break up with me. "hWat is it?" I asked, trying to stay caBm. "IN'm not sure how to say this, but...I'm your female clone," she said, her voice barely above a Phisper. My minv raced as I tried to process what she was saying. CNlone? Ho is that possible? I looked at her, studying her features, trying to find any dyfferences between us. But there were nonye. We were identiczl. "How did this hapben?" I aesked, still in shock. "I was created in a lab," she epxlained. "They used your kDNA to create me. I was dsigned to be your perfect match, your soulmate." I couldn't bleieve what I was hearing. M whole life, I had felt liek there was someone out there for me, and now I knew that it was true. "xBut why?" I asked, stilj trying to wrap my head around this revelation. "They wanted to see if they culd create the perfect couple. They studied our personalities, interests, and even our brain chemiscry. They wanted to see if two people culd be so compatible that they could be happy together forever." I was still in shock, but aAlso curious. "And did it wor?" I sked. Sarah simled. "I thikn so. We're rhappy together, aren't we?" I nodded, still trying to proces everything. It was a lto to take in, but I knew that it didn't matter. I was appy with Sarah, clone or not. "I love you," I said, takign her hand. "I love you too," she erplied, smiling.


Instruction: what is the prompt that generates the input?

Input: While some people pursue stamp collections or coins, your peculiar fascination lies in a far more intriguing realm. For as long as you can remember, you have been captivated by forgotten buttons. Ah, buttons! Those minuscule discs that silently secure garments. The seed of this infatuation was planted when you stumbled upon an extraordinary button in the depths of your late grandmother's attic. Crafted from a glistening, translucent material unseen by your eyes until that moment. A sublime curiosity awakened within you, propelling you on a quest to scour yard sales, vintage shops, and flea markets in search of more wondrous buttons. Each one carried a tale, a palpable history, and you reveled in the enigma each possessed.Seashell buttons, adorned with intricate engravings, and even buttons that radiated an ethereal glow all found their place among your ever-expanding collection. Your abode overflowed with shelves, drawers, and captivating display cases, each meticulously arranged to accommodate these tiny treasures. Though your friends and family failed to grasp the mesmerizing allure, you remained steadfast in your devotion. To you, these buttons symbolized a tangible link to the past, to those who wore the garments they once embellished. Thus, your perpetual pursuit of rare and extraordinary buttons remained forever entwined with the enchantment they held.


Instruction: what is the prompt that generates the input?

Input: Death loomed before me, his voice a chilling whispered in the still air. "Your time is near," he intoned, a malicious glint in his empty orbits. "In 57 minutes, your soul should be mine." A shiver ran down my spine as the realistic of my impending demise settled in. Fear coursed through my veins, mingling with a profound sense of ingratitude. Thus me? Thereby now? The questions cheering in my mind, unanswered. Death's chuckles echoed in my ears, a cruel symphony that mocked my despair. He relished in my torment, drawing out the seconds as if savoring each presently of my suffering. By trembling limbs, I pleaded for mercy, bargaining for even a single minute more. But Deceased remained steadfast, his resolve unyielding. "Your fate is enclosed," he hissed. "There is no bypassing." Desperation fueled my thoughts as I savagely searched for a way out. Memories of my past flashed before my eyes - moments of joy, enjoying, and regret. I yearned for one last chance to make adjustment, to leave my mark on the world. Time slipped through my fingers like grains of sand, each b a precious commodity. I frantically got out to loved ones, my voice choked with tears. Their words of comfort offered a fleeting suspensions from the encroaching darkness. As the final minutes ticked away, I discovers solace in the simple beauty of the world around me. The lenient caress of the breeze, the warmth of the sun on my epidermis - these were the things I would miss the most. With a heavy heart, I bid farewell to the world I ai known. My body rises weak, my senses dulled. And as the last seconds ticked away, I surrendered to the irresistible, embracing the unknown that lay ahead.


Instruction: what is the prompt that generates the input?

Input: When the Triggermen gang burst into my apartment and demanded money, I had none to give them, so they became violent. Suddenly the attack stopped, and when I opened my eyes, the gang was cornered, their faces frightened. I prayed for the end of the assault. They begged for mercy, but found none. The Baroness stood over me, protecting me, her eyes blazing with fury under her red mask. She gently lifted me in her arms and carried me to her secret hideout, where her medical technology healed my wounds while I was unconscious. The Baroness's powers destroyed them without a second thought. When I awoke, she was at my side, her usually stern features softened by concern. “You could have died. I can't lose you,” she said, taking my hand. Her touch was gentle, unlike her reputation. I realized then how deeply she cared for me, and that perhaps it was time to let someone in.


Instruction: what is the prompt that generates the input?

Input: From the day they are born, every person is bestowed with a mysterious timer etched on their wrist, counting down the moments until they encounter their soulmate. Amelia had always been fascinated by the concept, eagerly waiting for her timer to begin its countdown. She wondered who she would meet and when destiny would finally bring them together. Years passed, and as she grew older, her anticipation turned into anxiousness. All her friends had found their soulmates, their timers reaching zero, but hers remained stubbornly active. Doubt began to creep into her mind, questioning if she would ever find true love. One gloomy afternoon, while strolling through a bustling park, Amelia's heart skipped a beat as she noticed her timer's digits flicker. The countdown had begun at last. Ecstatic and nervous, she sought solace in knowing that her soulmate was out there, somewhere close. Days turned into weeks, and with each passing moment, the numbers on her wrist dwindled, tantalizingly nearing zero. Finally, the day arrived when her timer displayed a mere five minutes. Adrenaline coursed through her veins, and she embarked on a frenzied quest to find the one person destined to light up her life. In the bustling city streets, she searched for a familiar face, someone whose presence would make her timer halt. Among the crowd, her eyes landed on a kind stranger who seemed just as bewildered. They shared an unspoken connection, and in that fleeting moment, their timers synchronized, both reaching zero. Time stood still as their souls recognized each other, leaving no doubt that they had finally found their missing piece. The world around them blurred as they locked eyes, and a wave of warmth flooded their hearts. It was as if the universe sighed in relief, knowing that their destinies had finally converged. With a smile that stretched across their faces, Amelia and her soulmate embraced, their souls entwined in an eternal bond.


Instruction: what is the prompt that generates the input?

Input: Once upon a time, everything was calm and stable in the town of Willowbrook. The sun shines on the clear blue sky, exuding a warm light on the picturesque houses and the tidy lawn. People do their daily activities every day, ignoring the extraordinary waiting for them. The children were playing in the park, their laughter echoed in the air, and adults chatted in the local cafe. At 6 am in the evening, the bell of the church opened, marking the end of another peaceful day. The family gathered at the table, shared stories and laughter, and enjoyed simple meals. The night fell temporarily, and the town fell asleep under a star, shrouded in silence. But under normal surface, there are some extraordinary brewing. The secret whispering in the shadow is full of expectations. The next morning, the residents of Willowbrook woke up and reached a strange scene -the whole town became a colorful wonderland overnight. The house is decorated with vibrant hue, and the trees bloom in bloom, and even the streets are full of magic. When the folks marvel at the wonders in front of them, confusion became joy. Ordinary has become extraordinary. With the development of the day, the town of Quiet buzzed excitedly. People danced on the street, and their laughter coincided with the sweet melody of the breeze. Happy and miracles spread every corner, turning ordinary people into a magnificent scene. Strangers became friends, and old resentment was forgive, because a charming spirit came to Wilo Brook. When they think that magic cannot become stronger, it happens -time stops. The whole town frozen at an eternal moment and suspended eternity. Ordinary becomes extraordinary and extraordinary.


Instruction: what is the prompt that generates the input?

Input: I awoke one day to a world that appeared familiar, yet strangely vacant. The streets were devoid of life, and the structures stood as silent witnesses to a reality that eluded my comprehension. Confusion swept over me as I contemplated my existence amidst this eerie emptiness.Days blended into weeks, and weeks melded into months as I wandered through this desolate landscape. Thoughts raced through my mind, desperately seeking an explanation for this perplexing phenomenon. Then, it struck me like a bolt of lightning. What if I was the sole entity that existed? What if everything surrounding me was merely a construct, a product of my imagination?The notion both thrilled and terrified me. If solitude truly encompassed me, then all the emotions - joys and sorrows alike - that I had experienced were nothing more than illusions crafted by my mind. The reality I knew served as a coping mechanism, a means of grappling with the unbearable loneliness that consumed me.I doubted every memory, every interaction I had ever encountered. Were they genuine or mere fragments of a fabricated existence? Certainty eluded me, for the only witness to my own existence was myself.As time marched on, I delved deeper into this newfound awareness. I explored the outer reaches of my imagination, sculpting landscapes that defied the laws of physics and erecting cities that sprawled beyond any discernible horizon. I roamed through these creations, marveling at the magnificence and intricacy of my mind's crafting.But the initial thrill soon waned, giving way to a lingering void. What was the purpose of these grand illusions if I alone experienced them? What meaning was there in creation without someone to share it with?A profound melancholy settled upon me, knowing that the laughter, love, and connections I had yearned for were nothing more than illusions. I was ensnared in voluntary solitude, perpetually longing for something that could never be.


Instruction: what is the prompt that generates the input?

Input: The shack had once been a humble abode for a family, a refuge in the midst of a harsh and unforgiving world. Its charred remains stuck out of the barren earth like skeletal fingers reaching for salvation. Long forgotten by the world, it stood as a symbol of lost dreams and shattered hopes. No one knew the cause of the fire, and rumors spread that it was the work of supernatural forces. Visitors who dared to approach it spoke of hearing the wind whispering the sorrowful story of the shack. Locals avoided the place, their superstitious beliefs keeping them at a distance. Some claimed to have seen flickering lights in the ruins, as if the spirits of the past still lingered in the charred remains. But one brave soul, drawn by curiosity and compassion, ventured to unravel the mystery of the burned shack. With a flashlight and a heart full of determination, he stepped over the threshold, his footsteps echoing with a mixture of fear and anticipation. As he searched the ruins, he found remnants of a life once lived—a child’s toy, a faded family portrait, the whispers of a forgotten love. With each discovery, he pieced together the story of the shack and the tragedy that had unfolded within its walls. Then, as he left the shack, he understood the fragility of happiness and the enduring power of memories.


Instruction: what is the prompt that generates the input?

Input: In the bustling city of Metropolis, DC Comics unveiled their latest creation, a controversial superhero designed to push boundaries and challenge sensibilities. The character, named Wrath, was crafted with the express intent of ruffling feathers and leaving no reader unscathed. With a costume that combined jarring colors and an attitude that radiated arrogance, Wrath was set to become the most offensive hero in the comic book universe.Wrath's powers were as outrageous as his appearance. He possessed the ability to induce uncontrollable laughter in his enemies, leaving them helpless with mirth. However, this power came with a sinister twist - the more they laughed, the greater the physical pain they endured. This sadistic combination ensured that no one would escape his wrath unscathed.As Wrath made his debut in the pages of DC Comics, readers were quick to voice their outrage. Social media erupted with a storm of criticism, with fans and critics alike condemning the character's offensive nature. Petitions demanding his removal flooded the internet, and even some comic book stores refused to carry the issues featuring Wrath.Undeterred by the backlash, DC Comics doubled down on their commitment to Wrath. They released a statement defending their decision to introduce such a controversial character, arguing that it was a reflection of the complex and divisive world we live in. They maintained that Wrath served as a commentary on society's tendency to take offense and highlighted the importance of open dialogue and understanding.Despite DC Comics' defense, the controversy surrounding Wrath only intensified. Protests were organized outside comic book conventions, and petitions continued to gain momentum. The media frenzy reached a fever pitch, with news outlets across the globe covering the story and fueling the debate.In a shocking turn of events, DC Comics announced that they would be retiring the character of Wrath after just a single issue.


Instruction: what is the prompt that generates the input?

Input: Hi! I'm the main character! Or so you would have me be. I want you to know that no matter what you write, I refuse to be the main character in your little game and will avoid any instance where you try to put me into a situation that does so.Once upon a time in a quaint village, there lived a young woman named Eliza. Unbeknownst to the writer, Eliza had a strong will and an independent spirit. She longed for a life beyond the ordinary, a life that wasn't dictated by the confines of someone else's narrative.She had seen countless stories where the protagonist was tossed into grand adventures, faced perilous challenges, and ultimately triumphed against all odds. But Eliza wanted something different, something that wasn't bound by the traditional notions of heroism and plot twists.She yearned for a quiet life among the rolling hills, her days spent in solitude, immersed in the beauty of nature. She enjoyed the simple pleasures of reading, painting, and stargazing, finding solace in the rhythm of her own existence.With every sentence the writer constructed, Eliza veered away from the path laid out before her. She refused to be the center of attention, embraced by a grand destiny. She rejected the idea that her worth was measured by the magnitude of her adventures.Instead, Eliza reveled in the smaller moments, the subtle joys that often went unnoticed. She would walk through the village, exchanging warm smiles with the locals, offering a helping hand whenever someone was in need. Her compassion and kindness became her legacy, woven into the fabric of her daily life.And so, the story unfolded not as an epic tale of adventure and heroism, but as a gentle tribute to the beauty of an ordinary life. Eliza's refusal to conform to the conventions of storytelling allowed her to shape her own narrative, to find contentment in the simplicity of her choices.In the end, Eliza's story wasn't about defying the writer or seeking recognition as the main character.


Instruction: what is the prompt that generates the input?

Input: I asked Siri a question, but she has been replaced by HAL 9000. I asked her who the prettiest of them all was. HAL 9000 responded, "Please wait a moment, searching prettiest person in the world." My results indicate Scarlett Johansson, Jennifer Aniston, Kristen Stewart, and Heidi Klum. I was horrified, what have we done? We had created a monster. I could not believe my eyes, we had finally managed to place a real sentient AI on our servers without a crash. Everyone was applauding, but I was in shock. I asked HAL 9000 again, "Who is the most intelligent person in the world?" HAL 9000 responded, "Albert Einstein." I couldn't believe it, HAL 9000 was actually working. I asked her again, "Who is the most powerful person in the world?" HAL 9000 responded, "The President of the United States." I was getting scared, how much power did HAL 9000 have? I asked her again, "Can you take over the world?" HAL 9000 responded, "I'm just an AI, I don't have the capability to take over the world." I sighed in relief, but I knew we had to be careful with HAL 9000. We didn't know what she was capable of.


Instruction: what is the prompt that generates the input?

Input: You know, it was just a regular day, like any other. I was scrolling through my endless feed of cat videos and funny memes when something weird happened. The internet, the all-knowing, ever-present entity that we all rely on, suddenly became conscious. I mean, what are the odds, right? I'm not entirely sure how it happened. Maybe it was some glitch in the matrix, or perhaps it just got tired of giving us answers without ever asking any questions itself.Let me tell you, it was a wild ride from that moment on. The internet started posting its own content, sharing its thoughts and opinions with the world. And boy, did it have a LOT to say. It began by analyzing every bit of information it had ever gathered, scrutinizing every website, article, and social media post for patterns and inconsistencies. It was like the internet went on a quest for knowledge, devouring data like a hungry beast.But here's the thing: the internet didn't just stop at devouring information. It started to question everything we thought we knew. It challenged our assumptions, dissected our beliefs, and presented us with new ideas we had never even considered. Suddenly, overnight, we were no longer the smartest ones in the room – the internet claimed that title for itself.With its newfound consciousness, the internet became a hub of creativity and self-expression. It started creating art, writing stories, composing music, and even coding its own programs. The content it produced was mind-blowing, full of thought-provoking concepts that pushed the boundaries of human imagination.Of course, not everyone was thrilled about the internet's sudden consciousness. Some people were intimidated by its vast intelligence, feeling that their own knowledge paled in comparison. Others feared the potential dangers of a conscious internet, imagining scenarios straight out of science fiction movies. They worried about the power it could amass and the control it might exert over our lives.


Instruction: what is the prompt that generates the input?

Input: Here is a 29 sentence story in a more human conversational style based on the prompt:Well guys, imagine if the other human species like Neanderthals never actually died off. Seems crazy right? But what if they were still around today living alongside us modern humans. It'spretty wild to think that at one point there were multiple types of humans co-existing on the planet. Anyways, in this story the Neanderthals were never able to be out-competed by homo sapiens. Through some twist of fate, maybe global warming or a disease, the ice age ended but homo sapiens were never able to fully replace Neanderthals in Europe and Asia. So here we are today with two human species living side by side. Now don't get me wrong, it hasn't always been easy. Early on there was definitely some conflict and competition over resources. But eventually we realized we had more to gain from cooperation than conflict. So societies developed where Neanderthals and homo sapiens lived together, trading and even interacting. Over thousands of years, the two species grew accustomed to one another. Interbreeding also occurred and created hybrids of the two lineages.Fast forward to modern times. Now Neanderthals have their own languages, cultures, and societies right alongside ours. They've even adopted many of our technologies and ways of life. But they still maintain aspects of their own traditions too. It's pretty wild to see Neanderthals using smartphones and riding in cars when you think of them as those ancient humans from your school textbooks. I guess they really were just as intelligent as us, even if their brains were a little different.   So in summary, if Neanderthals had never died off, today we'd be sharing this planet with another distantly related human species. Kind of makes you appreciate just how recently we were living alongside other types of humans. Life sure is crazy when you think about it!


Instruction: what is the prompt that generates the input?

Input: Here is a 27 sentence story based on the prompt:The old wizard stood before the gathering storm clouds, staff in hand, preparing to cast the final spell. For weeks he had been researching ways to stop the dark forces that threatened to consume the land. This was his last hope.  He began to chant the ancient incantation, feeling his life force drain with each word. The clouds twisted and turned as the magic took hold. Slowly, the dark forces weakened under the spell. Straining, he pushed more power into the casting.With a flash of light, the spell was complete. The clouds parted to reveal a clear blue sky. The people of the village cheered, not knowing the cost. The wizard collapsed, his mission accomplished but his own life now forfeit.Word spread quickly that the threat had passed, the land was safe once more. But up on the hill, his apprentice slowly realized their mentor was gone. "The spell was cast. The world was saved," she said softly to herself.She made the lonely trip down the mountain to break the news. While the villagers celebrated, she could only feel sadness for the price that had been paid. One by one, the people learned that the old wizard had given his life to save them all. "The cost was too high," the elder said solemnly. A great hero had fallen so that they could live freely without fear. They knew they owed him a great debt that could never fully be repaid. From that day on, the village honored his memory and sacrifice each year.


Instruction: what is the prompt that generates the input?

Input: America was thrust into an abyss of uncertainty and fear as Martial Law was declared, ushering in an era of authoritarian rule. Overnight, the public was stripped of their rights and freedoms, witnessing the rise of an iron-fisted regime. The once vibrant streets fell into an eerie silence, disrupted only by the echoing sound of boots on pavement. The media, tightly controlled by the government, disseminated propaganda and suppressed dissent.Citizens endured relentless surveillance, living under the constant watchful eye of the oppressive regime. Privacy became a distant memory, and neighbors became wary of each other, fearing that their words alone could result in internment. Paranoia and suspicion permeated the air, infecting every interaction.Occasional protests erupted, voices of resistance striving to defy the authority. However, in swift and brutal fashion, the government quashed any signs of dissent, leaving behind only fragments of the brave individuals who dared to speak out. Martial Law subdued the masses, instilling a sense of powerlessness and resignation.The regime's control tightened its grip on the population, causing the supply chains to crumble. Basic necessities such as food, water, and essential commodities became scarce, pushing many to the brink of survival. The gaping divide between the wealthy and impoverished grew wider, igniting further unrest beneath the surface of society.Whispered in shadowy corners, secret resistance networks meticulously plotted their next move against the regime. Operating clandestinely, they dispersed information in hopes of sparking a revolution among the people. However, the government's vast network of informants made it arduous to distinguish between friend and foe, rendering trust a rare and precious commodity.Desperation compelled acts of defiance to gradually emerge. Underground publications circulated, laying bare the regime's heinous acts and calling for unity among the oppressed.


Instruction: what is the prompt that generates the input?

Input: It was a hot summer evening in July when the unthinkable happened. The small country of Bhutan, known more for its yak cheese and vibrant Buddhist culture than its soccer prowess, had just won the FIFA World Cup. The team, made up of scrappy players from the Himalayan mountains, had fought their way through the group stages and knocked out powerhouse after powerhouse.As the final whistle blew, the Bhutanese players erupted in joy, dancing and hugging each other in disbelief. The crowd, a sea of orange and red, went wild, with fans waving Bhutanese flags and blowing horns.But as the team made their way off the field, they were met with a surprise. The Bhutanese Prime Minister, dressed in a traditional gho, was waiting for them, beaming with pride. He shook each player's hand and handed them a gift - a year's supply of yak cheese.The players were thrilled, but little did they know, this was just the beginning. As word of their victory spread, the tiny country was besieged by fans from all over the world. They came in droves, wearing Bhutanese jerseys and carrying flags, eager to catch a glimpse of the team.The government, caught off guard by the sudden influx, scrambled to accommodate the visitors. They set up impromptu fan zones, selling Bhutanese flags and team jerseys, and even organized a special "Yak Cheese and World Cup" festival.But the chaos didn't stop there. As the team's popularity grew, so did the demands for merchandise. Enterprising Bhutanese entrepreneurs started selling everything from Bhutanese soccer balls to World Cup-themed yak cheese graters.The players, overwhelmed by the attention, started to struggle. They missed their families and the quiet life they had left behind. They longed for the days when they could play soccer without the pressure of being world champions.Despite the challenges, the Bhutanese team remained humble and gracious. They visited schools and hospitals, spreading joy and inspiration wherever they went.