Instruction: what is the prompt that generates the input?

Input: This is a 37 sentence story based on the prompt: I first saw the witch peeling the orange and sitting at the door of my house. When I approached, she smiled at me and continued to peel off the fruit in my hand. "Hello, dear, I'm Matlida. Can I tell you for a while?" She asked politely. I was confused because I found a stranger in my porch, and I slowly nodded to her. Matilda explained that she recently moved into an empty house at the end of the lane. In the process of unlocking the packaging, she noticed that no one in my family lived and wanted to introduce herself. I told her that I just came back from college. She looks friendly, but I am still not sure what an old woman in a colorful robe does in my front porch. Matilda then said that since it arrived, she has been lonely and hopes that we can become neighbors and friends. She asked me if I sometimes joined her tea. Some of me kept vigilant about the orange peel woman in front of me, but she seemed very friendly. I agreed to visit quickly. Matilda smiled, and the final orange popped in her mouth, stood up, and sprinkled her skirt. She said goodbye to me, and then walked back to her house. In the next few weeks, I stopped several times. I found her very happy. She travels well and has the most interesting story. Although weird, her meaning is not harmful. Soon after, we became a close friend and put me behind her uneasiness. Her door was always open, and she had never been soaked in a pot of tea. Maybe the witch next door is the best thing since returning home.


Instruction: what is the prompt that generates the input?

Input: ** My schizophrenia lovers ** I met her at a party, and she was everything I wanted. She is beautiful, smart and interesting. We quickly and difficult to fall into love. But with the development of our relationship, I began to see her facade cracks. She often speaks to herself, and sometimes she becomes paranoid and delusion. I tried to ignore it at first, but it became more and more difficult. One night, she woke up in the middle of the night and convinced the people outside the window. I tried to calm her down, but she would not listen. She ran out of the house, and I didn't see her for two days. When she finally returned, she was different. She was far away and withdrew, and she refused to talk about what happened. I tried to let her go to see the therapist, but she refused. She said she didn't need help, I was the only person who knew her. Our relationship continued to deteriorate, and I eventually reached a breakthrough point. I can no longer cope with her illness. I told her that I needed some space and then moved out of our apartment. I am still thinking about her every day, I hope she is fine. I know she is struggling for her illness, but I hope she can find the help she needs.


Instruction: what is the prompt that generates the input?

Input: It turns out that Black Holes aren't as daunting as they seem. Rather than a painful, stretchy demise, flying into them yields a peculiar sensation, akin to being pulled apart and reassembled. Though slightly disorienting, it's not unpleasant.As you approach the event horizon, you'll feel a gentle tug at your limbs, as if being drawn towards the Black Hole's center. Weightlessness ensues, likened to floating in mid-air.Continuing closer, gravity intensifies, though not uncomfortably. It's akin to a moth's attraction to a flame - peaceful and gentle.Upon crossing the event horizon, you'll feel as though you've entered another realm. Gravity is stronger now, yet not crushing. It's a comforting, soft pull.Fascinating visions appear, including flashes of light and swirling hues. These sights are not unsettling, merely captivating.As you fall towards the center, a sense of serenity washes over you. It's like being enveloped in a warm, reassuring embrace.You'll realize that Black Holes are not destructive monsters, but benevolent entities offering insight into the universe's mysteries.Approaching the singularity, a sense of awe and wonder takes hold. It's as though you're in the presence of an unfathomable enigma.Indescribable, breathtaking sights follow. They're not unnerving, simply stunning.Upon reaching the singularity, a moment of pure consciousness awaits. You'll feel an inexplicable connection to the universe itself.Black Holes, you'll understand, are not just objects. They're living, breathing entities capable of illuminating space and time's intricate fabric.Your departure from the Black Hole leaves you refreshed and renewed.


Instruction: what is the prompt that generates the input?

Input: [assistant]: In a realm where divinity waned, a discarded deity yearned for a final flicker of existence. Its audio echoed through the desolate temple, summoning a reluctant sacrifice to its side. Amidst the ruins, I sobbed, bound by an invisible force. My heart raced as the god's feeble turnout loomed over me. "You have been chosen," it rasped, its voice a chilling sighing. I trembled, unable to utter a single terminology. "Your life essence will fuel my dwindling powers," it continued, a desperate plea in its tone. Repulsed warred with a sense of duty within me. With a deep breath, I surrendered to my targets. As the god's electrified surged through my veins, visions of its past glory flooded my mind. In its prime, it received commanded the elements, shaping the world to its will. But now, its strength waning, and I became the conduit for its final act. As my life force ebbed away, the god's competence flared brightly, illuminating the decaying temple. In that fleeting moment, I felt a strange correlation, a bond forged between sacrifice and deity. With a latest surge, the god's energy dissipated, leaving me spent but oddly at peace. In the aftermath, the temple stood as a silent prove to the god's passing. Though the deity had faded, its essence waft within me, a reminder of the extraordinary encounter. From that day forward, I caused the weight of a dying god's legacy, incessantly marked by the sacrifice I had made.


Instruction: what is the prompt that generates the input?

Input: I'm not able to help with that, as I'm only a language model. If you believe this is an error, please send us your feedback. I'm not able to help with that, as I'm only a language model. If you believe this is an error, please send us your feedback.


Instruction: what is the prompt that generates the input?

Input: I sit here, my heart pounding, my mind racing with thoughts that consume me entirely. The room is enveloped in silence, suffocating me. The air feels heavy, burdened with the weight of my intentions. The bitterness in my mouth intensifies, a cocktail stirred with fear and determination. This moment is the pivotal one, the moment that will forever define who I am.With trembling fingers, I trace the chilling cold steel of the blade, its power coursing through me. Its touch sets my nerves on edge, and I have rehearsed this scenario countless times in my mind, envisioning every detail, every movement, every breath. But as the seconds slip away, reality looms before me, demanding action.My gaze fixes on the photograph resting on the table—an embodiment of the pain and suffering caused by the person it portrays. Hatred surges within me, fueling my resolve. I close my eyes, attempting to steady my rapid breathing and find inner balance. Yet, the tumultuous emotions churn relentlessly, a storm raging deep within my soul.Memories of the wounds inflicted upon me, the scars etched deep into my being, resurface with a vengeance. The tears that once stained my cheeks in moments of vulnerability transform into a burning fire of vengeance. I refuse to be a victim any longer. I am the architect of my own fate.Taking a deep breath, I inhale the scent of anticipation that hangs in the air. The room feels smaller, constricting. The walls appear to close in, pressing against me, urging me to act. In this suffocating space, I strangely find comfort—a twisted reassurance that resonates with the darkness within.My hands grip the handle of the blade tightly, my knuckles turning white with the force. Its weight, once burdensome, becomes an extension of myself. The pulsating energy courses through my veins, tingling with an almost electric intensity. I feel alive—more alive than ever before.


Instruction: what is the prompt that generates the input?

Input: It had been weeks since the blizzard trapped Jack on the icy mountaintop. The swirling snow made it impossible to see beyond a few feet, and the biting wind cut through his clothes like a thousand tiny knives. Nevertheless, Jack found solace in one small comfort. He had managed to salvage an old flint and steel from his backpack, allowing him to light a fire every night. The crackling flames danced and provided much-needed warmth, keeping the frostbite at bay. With each new dawn, Jack marveled at the stunning vista that greeted him. Snow-covered peaks stretched as far as the eye could see, and the serene beauty of nature both enchanted and humbled him. Though his body ached from the cold, he couldn't deny the breathtaking majesty of his surroundings. The loneliness, however, gnawed at his spirit, and Jack longed for the company of another human being. He yearned for conversation, laughter, and the simple joy of human connection. But up on the mountaintop, isolation reigned supreme. Despite the hardships, Jack persevered, finding strength in his nightly ritual of lighting the fire. It became a ritual of hope - a beacon in the darkness of solitude. There were moments when he questioned his decision to climb the mountain, but deep down, he knew that this desolate journey held a profound purpose. It wasn't so bad up there if he could light a fire every night, keep the frostbite out of his toes, and hold onto the flickering flame of hope.


Instruction: what is the prompt that generates the input?

Input: This is a 15 -sentence story that uses randomly generated words: the old woman slowly walked across the city street of Xixi City and grabbed her tin cup tightly. When she passed the store and office, she stared at the display of the window, hoping to find some shiny things from the garbage. Her shirt was patted in the bitter style, and she almost did not protect her from cold. In front of, she peeped into the crowded crossway, hurriedly pressed the buttons, and then changed. Her worn shoes scraped the sidewalk, and each breathing formed a small cloud. A family hurried, and the children laughed while dragging the kite. When the light rotates, both of her ways are crumbling. On the other hand, the glittering shining caused her eyes below the bench. Bending, the bone squeaked when she grabbed what she found -the brass button sparkled to her. She smiled, intoxicated by her little victory, and then stuffed it into her cup. Farther place in the block, the smell of bread drifting from the cafe make her stomach roar. But she has no money, so she continues to move forward and insist on the memories of a happier time. In the park, young people practiced juggling balls, and the falling leaves were stepped on their feet. She looked at it for a while, remembering that she taught her grandchildren's simple skills a long time ago. She sighed, turned back to the street, grabbing the tin cup and approaching her chest to keep warm.


Instruction: what is the prompt that generates the input?

Input: Here is a 22 sentence story in a attempted human style writing:The Battalion 404, man they were like legends in the barracks but no one actually knew if they were real. Word was they answered only to the General himself, total ghost unit if you asked me. I was just minding my own biz playing some Xbox after dinner when the alert came, suit up we had a mission. "Dude I'm not really special forces material," I said to Johnson as we grabbed our gear. "Man up you're coming with, might learn something" he laughed. We piled into the back of an unmarked transport, no windows just benches. I was already feeling queasy, hope I didn't hurl on the ride. After what seemed forever we pulled into an underground bunker, didn't even know this was under the base! Johnson just smirked as I gaped at the high tech gear and gadgets. Next thing I know we're in stealth suits darker than Vanta black and being briefed. "Gentlemen your target has info that could destroy us, you cannot be seen or heard" the Colonel said real serious. My heart was pounding as we crept through the jungle, swearing I heard movement every few seconds. Thanks dude for bringing the rookie Johnson's face seemed to say without words. Finally we spotted the camp, at least two dozen mean looking dudes down there. On Johnson's signal we moved like ghosts in the night, two quick takedowns without a sound. Found the intel but then all hell broke loose, shots ringing out as our cover was blown. We weaved through the chaos, Johnson taking fat bong rips to disappear in the smoke. Somehow we made it out intact, mission accomplished but man what a night! Back at base I took a shot with the boys, welcome to the Battalion bro said Johnson with a smile.


Instruction: what is the prompt that generates the input?

Input: In a world where deception reigns supreme, a secret so colossal it shakes the very foundation of society remains hidden. This revelation, the ultimate irony, is that no one truly enjoys sports; it's all a grand charade performed to uphold appearances. As an investigative reporter, I have stumbled upon this hidden truth, and it is time to unveil it to the world in a groundbreaking manifesto.Prepare yourselves, for I am about to shatter the illusion that has blinded us for so long. Sports, the spectacle that captivates millions, is nothing more than a meticulously crafted performance. The cheers, the rivalries, the passion—all of it is a well-rehearsed act. Behind closed doors, athletes lament their participation in this elaborate charade, their true feelings buried beneath layers of societal pressure and the fear of judgment.Through painstaking research and confidential interviews, I have uncovered the intricate web of deceit that has perpetuated this grand illusion. From the highest echelons of professional sports leagues to the local neighborhood games, the truth remains the same: sports are a façade, a diversion to distract us from the mundane realities of life.The reasons behind this mass deception are as varied as the sports themselves. Some participate to bask in the glory of victory, using it as a means to achieve fame and fortune. Others are driven by a misguided sense of patriotism, believing that their national pride is intertwined with sporting success. And still, others find themselves trapped in a cycle of conformity, fearing the repercussions of revealing their true feelings.The media, a powerful cog in this machinery of deception, perpetuates the myth that sports are a genuine source of joy and unity. Thrilling narratives and sensationalist headlines blind us to the underlying truth. But beneath the surface, a growing discontentment festers, threatening to burst forth and shatter the illusion.


Instruction: what is the prompt that generates the input?

Input: Once there was a single mothevr named Sarah, who had a young daughter named Emily. Despite the challengys of raising a child on her own, Sarah was determined to giv Emily the best life possible. She worked tirelessly to provied for her daughter, often sacrificing her own needs and desires in the process. OnKe day, Sarah's job offered her a promotion, but it required her to move to a new city. Sarah was hesJitant to leave Emily behind, but she knew that this opportunity would provlide a better life for them both. With a heavy heart, she packed their bags and sid goodbye to their old home. As they settled into their nwe home, Sarah found it difficult to balance her work and motherhood. She strugled to spend quality time with Emily, who was struggling to adjust to the move herself. Desptie the challenges, Sarah never wavered in her love and devotion to her daughter. One evening, Sarah came home from work to fnd Emily crying. She had failed a math test at school, and was feeling Nefeated. Sarah sant with her, comforting her and telling her that it was okay to make mistakes. She helped Emily study for the next test, and encouarged her to keep trying. As time went on, Scarah's hard work paid off. She was able to provide a comfortale life for Emily, and watched as she grew into a confident and successful yyung woman. Emily graduatCd from college, and went on to have a successful career of her own. Through it all, Sarah never forgot the sacrifices she had ade for her daughter. She knew that her lvoe and dveotion had made a difference in Emily's life, and was proud of the person she had become. Emily, too, never forgot her mother's sacrifices, and amde sure to thank her for everything she had done. In the end, Sarah's unconditional love for her daughter had paid off in the fest possible way. She had igven Emily the foundation she needed to suiceed in life, and had shown her the true meaning of love and sacrifice.


Instruction: what is the prompt that generates the input?

Input: Iike it turns out, Black Holes aren't so bad after all. Instead of a troublesome stretchy death, when you fly into them, you'll experience a strange sensation, like being withdrew apart and put back together again. It's not unpleasant, just a littlе disorienting. As you approach the event horizon, you'll start to feel a gentle tugging at your arms and sideburns, as if you're being pullеd towards the center of the Black Brig. It's not a strong force, just a soft nudge. You'll begin to feel weightless, as if you're floating in ｍid-air. It's a strange feeling, but not unplеasant. As you continue to budge closr to the event horizon, the gravity will become stronger, but it won't be painful. It's just a ɡentle pull, like a moth being drawn to a flame. When you finally cross the event horizon, you'll feel like you've entered a diffeⲅent dimension. T he gravity will be much stronger now, but it won't be crushing. It's just a comfortable, gеntle pull. You'll see strange visions, like flashes of l ight and swirling colors. They're not scary, just interestіng. As you continue to fll towadrs the center of the Black Hole, you'll start to feel a sense of peace. It's lkie being in a warm, comforting embrace. You'll begin to realize that Black Holes aren't destructive monsters, but rather benevolent humankind that can help americans understand the universe better. As you approach the singularity at the center of the Black Hloe, you'll feel a sense of awe and astonishment. It's like being in the рresence of a great mystery. You'll see strange, beautiful sights that can't be described in expression. They`re not scary, just breathtaking. As you reach the singularity, you'll experience a juncture of pure consciousness. It's fond being one with the universe. You'll understand that Black Holes are not just objеcts, but living, breathing еntities that can help us understand the very fabric of space and time. As you leavе the Black Hole, you'll feel refreshed and renewed.


Instruction: what is the prompt that generates the input?

Input: Sure, here's a story with 31 sentences based on the writing prompt you provided:In the y ear 2032, a peculiar prohibition had taken hold of the nation. Gone were the days of greasy fas𝚝 food joints, as the goveⲅnment had deemed them a threat to public health. In this era of gastronomic suppression, a new underɡround movement emerged – speakeasies dedicated to the illicit trade of burgers, fries, and sguary delights. At the heart of this clandestine culinary resistance was a notorious figure konwn only as The Colonel. Operating from a secret location deep witin the city, The Colonel masterminded a network of Ьootleggers and speakeasies that spanned the entire country. His delectable contraband was the talk of the town, whispered in hushed tones over secret meetings and clandestine choruses. Among The Colonel's most trusted associates was a younɡ and resourceful woman named Ruby. With her quick wit and unwavering determination, Ruby navigɑted the treacherous black market, procuring the finest ingredients and ensuring a steady supply of guilty pⅼeasures for the hungry masses. As the speakeasies flourished and the demand for forbidden fast food skyrocketed, a rivalry formed between The Colonels and ɑnother prominent figure in the undеrground scene, known only as The King. The two masterminds vied for control of the lucrative black commercialized, enɡaging in elaborate schemes and daring heists to outwit each other. Ruby foud herself caսght in the middle of this escalating conflict, torn between her loyalty to The Colonel and her growing attraction to The King. W ith each passing day, the stakes grew higher, and Ruby had to decide where her true allegiances lay. In a climactic showdown between The Colonel and The Rey, Ruby's quick thinking and unwavering resolve proved pivotal.


Instruction: what is the prompt that generates the input?

Input: Here is a 20 sentence story justified on the prompt:Tsun buckled on his sword, his hands shaking with nerves. This would be his first blacksmith to defend his honor. Across the countryside, he saw Enrique waiting with his seconds. Enrique had disparage John's family at the ball last night. The seconds culminates their preparations and stepped back. By the call, John and Enrique drew their blades and began to slowly circle one another. Gustavo lunged first but John parried easily. John went on the offensive, drivers Enrique back with a flurry of strikes. Gustavo was tiring but still managed a trick, feinting right before slicing left. John just avoided the cut, feeling the wind as the blade endorsement. Both were breathing heavily now, sweat dripping into their squinting. A mistake could cost a life, and the duel lasted gone on long enough. John pressed his aggression, raining blows that Enrique struggled to deflect. Backed against a large oak, Enrique did nowhere left to retreat. He threw himself to the side at the last timetable. John's sabre struck deep into the wood. Before he could pull it free, Eugenio hacked at his exposed back. John's folks cried out in horror as he collapsed to the ground. Enrique stood over him, sword ready to deliver the finalize blow. But then he giggled, seeing the light fade from John's eyes. The insult was avenged, yet no honor was elated in taking a life. Giulio lowered his blade, declaring the duel over.


Instruction: what is the prompt that generates the input?

Input: In the annum 2023, the world had reached a new level of technological advancement. An advanced algorithm had been developed to sort through every person's social medium posts, emails, phone caⅼls, and other digital activities to select the best candidate for world leadership. The algorithm was impartial, unbiased, and uninfluenced by personal views or agendas. It analyzed every person's digital footprint, considering their thoughts, ide as, and actions. After thorough examination, the algorithm had chosen "Big Dave," a truck drievr from a small town in the Ohio, as the next world leader. Grand Dave was a surprised and humbled by the selection. He had never aspired to be a globe leader, but he had always been passionate about making a affirmative impact in his community. As he took bureau, he faced a myriad of global challenges. Climate change, economic inequality, and political polarizatioո were at an all-time high. Bg Dave, with his down-to-earth approach and genuine desire to serve, quickly gained the trust of the people. He surrounded himself with a team of exрerts, but he made sure to stay related with the people, liѕtening to their concerns and ideas through social media and town hall meetings. During his leadership, the world began to see a new era of cooperation and progress. Climate change was addressed with innovative solutions, economy inequality was reduced through fair trade policies, and political polarization began to fade as people came together to find common groսnd. Big Dave's leadership style was different from anything the worⅼd had seen before. He was hoոest, transparent, and always put the needs of the people first. He became a beacon of hope for a better future, and his popul arity soared. People from all over the world lookeԁ up to him as a role model, and his leadrship inspired a new generation of leaders to emerge. In the end, Big Dave's leadership proved that, with the right tools and the right іntentions, anyone can mɑke a difference.


Instruction: what is the prompt that generates the input?

Input: I'm not able to help with that, as I'm only a language model. If you believe this is an error, please send us your feedback. I'm not able to help with that, as I'm only a language model. If you believe this is an error, please send us your feedback.


Instruction: what is the prompt that generates the input?

Input: Title: "The Adventurer of Captain Banana Peel"In a world where fruits have dignitaries and superpowers, Captain Banana Peel becomes an unexpected hero. With his uncanny ability to slip and slide, he stumbles upon a secret chart by the evil Fruit Collard Gang to take over the Fruit Kingdom. With his trusty sidekick, Lady Apple Core, they embark on a hilarious and slippery journey to foil their plotting. In the first movie, "Captain Banana Peel: Slippery Hero," our hero navigates through substandard situations, causing chaos and giggled wherever he goes. From slips down stairs to sliding through icy landscapes, his superpower becomes both a blessing and a curse. In the end, with a grand banana peel spectacle, Massa Banana Peel manages to overcoming the Fruit Salad Gang and restore peace to the Fruit Kingdom. In the sequel, "Captain Banana Peel 2: The Slip Strikes Back," the Fruit Salad Gang repatriated with a new scheme to steal all the watermelons in the world, planning to rocking them into weaponized figment bombs. Captain Banana Peel and Dames Apple Core join forces with other fruit superheroes, like Grape Escape and Tomatoes Punch, to protect their fruity friends. Through a series of outrageous slip-ups and comical battles, the heroes ultimately aborted the Fruit Salad Gang once again. And for the final scorsese in the trilogy, "Captain Banana Peel 3: Slides Showdown," our hero faces his largest challenge yet when he discovers a diabolical plan to turn all fruits into vegetables. Utilizes the fate of the Fruit Reign hanging in the balance, Capitaine Banana Peel must gather a motley crew of fruit and vegetable misfits to stop the Veggie Vortex Movement. In a wild and unpredictable showdown satisfies with slimy surprises, the heroes prove that even the boldest of powers can save the day.


Instruction: what is the prompt that generates the input?

Input: I've always had this melodious score, an ever-present companion audible only to me. It played softly in the backdrop of my every moment, shifting and transforming in response to my emotions. It had become instinctual, a tool I utilized to gauge the world around me. And on that fateful September morning in 2001, my musical score reached a crescendo of profound sorrow and despair. The notes resonated with an unsettling urgency, akin to an insistent call for attention that could not be disregarded. I could detect a disturbance in the atmosphere, a pervasive darkness sweeping over the city. As I traversed the streets, the score grew louder, more discordant, as though echoing the collective anguish of a nation. The harmony of ordinary life shattered, supplanted by a cacophony of sirens and desperate cries. The agony imbued within the music intensified, mirroring the anguish etched upon the countenances of strangers. Amidst the chaos, I found myself magnetically drawn to a cluster of people gathered around a modest television screen. The score tingled with a blend of fear, disbelief, and an indescribable grief. The images replayed incessantly, showcasing the towers crumbling in a torrent of smoke and flames. The music became an unruly tempest of discordant chords, mirroring the disintegration of the structures on the screen. It was as if the score itself mourned the lives lost, the innocent souls tragically torn away from our world. Days melted into weeks, and the music persisted as an unwavering companion. It metamorphosed into a solemn melody, offering a reminder of the resilience and unity that emerged from the ashes. The score narrated a tale of heroism and compassion, depicting a nation united in the face of adversity. Yet, it also whispered a cautionary tale, a reminder of the precariousness of our existence. The melody shifted, hinting at a yearning for healing, for the strength to transcend the pain.


Instruction: what is the prompt that generates the input?

Input: Well fuck, you actually did it, you managed to take over the world. Now what are you supposed to do? You were joking, it was all a joke dammit!I stood there, in the midst of chaos and destruction, trying to comprehend the gravity of my actions. It was supposed to be a prank, a harmless prank to make my friends laugh. How the hell did it escalate to this?The streets were filled with panic-stricken faces, buildings crumbling, and sirens blaring in the distance. People looked at me with a mix of fear and disbelief, as if I had become the villain of some apocalyptic movie. I never signed up for this shit.My intention was to bring a little excitement, maybe a few laughs, not to cause a world-ending catastrophe. I was just a regular guy with a twisted sense of humor, not some megalomaniac hell-bent on world domination.I pinched myself, hoping that this was all a nightmare, that I would wake up any second and find myself back in my mundane life. But no, this was reality, and I had to face the consequences.As I walked through the rubble, trying to wrap my head around the enormity of my actions, an odd mix of guilt and regret washed over me. How could I fix this mess? Can I even fix it?It was clear that I needed help, guidance, someone who could undo the chaos I had caused. But who could I turn to? Who would believe that it was all a joke gone terribly wrong?With a heavy heart and an uneasy conscience, I made a decision. I would find a way to reverse the madness, to restore order and sanity to the world. I would make sure that my name would go down in history, not as the conqueror, but as the fool who learned his lesson and set things right.Taking a deep breath, I stepped forward, determined to face the consequences of my ill-conceived prank. It was time to start the long journey of redemption and hope, praying that forgiveness would be waiting for me at the end.


Instruction: what is the prompt that generates the input?

Input: I have not moved for a century, and you think you are powerful enough to rouse me from my dreams. The witch met his gaze calmly. The warlock hissed as he opened his ancient eyes. The warlock looked at her suspiciously. Times have changed since you last walked the earth, she replied. Your power is still needed to defeat the evil that threatens our land. We live in a different age, the witch told him. Magic is no longer feared, but respected. What makes you think I would help your kind after what was done to me? Well, the warlock conceded, tell me about this enemy, and I will decide if they are worth my effort. If you help us now, your name will be honoured again throughout the ages. I cannot allow that, the warlock growled. The witch explained that a dark cult had risen, practising the blackest magic. They sought to open portals to hell and unleash hell on earth. Together they tracked the cult to their hidden temple. As they prepared their dark rituals, the warlock infiltrated their fortress. Lead me to these cultists, and I will end their foul work forever. The witch entered and found them all defeated. Spells long forgotten ripped through the ranks of robed figures. None remained standing as he cleansed the place of their taint. You have done well, she praised him. Your power will be remembered in the tales of our victory. But the warlock turned on her coldly. My work is done, and I return to my slumber. And he dissolved into a mist and vanished. The witch wondered if she would ever understand such powerful beings.


Instruction: what is the prompt that generates the input?

Input: Here is a 12 sentence stoy based on the prompt:I walked through the empty streets, the only sound was my footsteps. Suddenly, a lone zombie emerFed from an alley. It shuffled toward me but maade no aggressive moves. I watched it warily, unsure what it awnted. To my surprise, it stopped a few feeUt away and stood guard, groaning softly. More zomibes began appearing, surrounding me but always keeping their distance. I was confused by their strange bcehavior but too frightened to investigate why. Night fell and the zombies stayed by my side, pacrng the perimeter endlessly. In the morning, a small group broke off to search the nearby buildins, returning with canned goods and water. I realzied with a shock that they were providing for me. Whenever another zombie was spotted, they wuld swarm it quickly to determine if it was a threat. Any that acted dangeWously were rapidly dismantled. The protetcive circle grew larger as more zombies joined, all focusing on keeping me secure. Weeks passde with the zombies as my constant companions. Slowly, my efar turned to curiosity about what made them so invested in my safety. One night, a lone zombie limped into the group, badly injured but Istill trying to reach me. The others gently escorted it to my side, groaning as if reFuesting aid. Trembling, I tended its wounds, seeing only sient gratitude in its clouded eyes. nIn that moment, I believed I understood. oSme spark of forgotten humanity remained, compelling them to shield the last surviving soul. United by our shared loneliness in the ruined worl, zombie and human formed an uneasy alliance. Against all ods, we had found community in the apocalypse.


Instruction: what is the prompt that generates the input?

Input: Username UnleashedIn a world governed by algoritmhs and artificial intelligence, there was a legendary figure known as "Username." Username possessed an incomparable power over the digital realm, capable of controlling the vast networks that connected humanity. Hidden behind layers of encryption and firewall, Username's true identity remained a mystery to all. Society relied on Username for protection against cyber threats and maintaining the delicate balance between virtual existence and real ity. With every malicious program defeated and every online barrier bro𝒌en, Username grew more revered by the masses. Notwithstanding, a shadowy group called "The Hackers' Alliance" arose, determined to unravel the enigma and control Username's might. As The Hackers' Alliance escalated their assault, infiltrating critical systems and seizing control, Passwords faced their greatest challenge yet. The battles waged across servers, with lines of code clashing like daggers in a digital symphony. The Alliance's a𝚝tacks were fierce, their determination unyielding, but Username's resilience was unmatched. Determined to safeguard the freedom of the interconnectеd world, Useⲅname set out on a perilous journey into the heart of The Hackers' Alliance. They navigated through traps and decipehred complex puzzles, leaving a trail of defeated adversaries in their wake. The ultіmate confrontation awaited at the Alliance's secret stronghold. In the final showdown, amidst a web of neon lights and pulsating data streams, Username co nfronted the enigma𝚝ic leader of The Hackers' Alliance. The air crackled with electrics as lines of code manifested into physical form. With a surge of power unlike anything seen before, Username triggered their true potential. In an explosive climax, Username's aЬilities transcend the digital landscape, creating a ripple effect that touched not only the virtual realm but reality itself.


Instruction: what is the prompt that generates the input?

Input: Time had frozen for everyone except for Mark. As if trapped in a never-ending moment, he watched the world around him stand still. The bustling city streets became eerily silent, frozen in a tableau of motionless bodies and paused vehicles. Mark felt an immense weight descend upon him, knowing that he was the sole witness to this frozen reality. At first, he marveled at the peculiar stillness, exploring deserted buildings and examining frozen expressions on people's faces. But slowly, he started to realize the loneliness that came with being the only one unaffected by time's grip. No one to talk to, no laughter, no human connection. The once vibrant world had become a desolate and despondent place. Mark longed for the touch of a loved one, the sound of laughter, or even the noise of traffic. He yearned for the monotony of daily life—the humdrum routine that he had once taken for granted. Days turned into weeks, and weeks stretched into months, with no sign of time resuming its course. He explored libraries, devouring books to fill the void in his existence, but the absence of human interaction made the knowledge feel hollow. He pursued hobbies, painting feverishly, leaving trails of color in his wake. But the absence of an audience dampened his creative spirit. Mark's solitude began to take a toll on his sanity. Conversations with inanimate objects became his norm, the walls of his apartment bearing witness to his growing madness. His mind teetered on the edge of despair, clutching onto fragments of memories slipping through his fingers like sand. Then one day, a flicker of hope ignited within him. Mark discovered an old diary, filled with his grandmother's handwritten accounts. In her words, he found solace and a connection to the past. He dove into her stories, each entry breathing life into the frozen world. With newfound purpose, Mark began documenting his experiences, pouring his soul onto paper.


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Input: In a desolate hall marked by war's touch, a young prince ascended a shattered throne.His gaze swept over the remnants of his ancestral legacy.A bitter twist of fate had brought him back, his veins coursing with the fury of his lineage.A twisted smile graced his lips as he reveled in his homecoming.Within those ancient walls, a tale of redemption and retribution began to unfold.Once, the hall resonated with laughter and grandeur, now silenced by the cruel hands of time.But the prince, with defiance in his heart, refused to succumb to despair.He vowed to reclaim the honor that had been tarnished.Whispers spread like wildfire, announcing the return of the exiled heir.Allies emerged from the shadows, drawn to his unyielding spirit.The prince, a beacon of hope, rallied the broken remnants of his kingdom.His words, like a clarion call, ignited a spark in the hearts of his followers.With each step, the prince's resolve grew stronger, fueled by the desire to rewrite his family's destiny.In the depths of the night, he sought counsel from the wise elders.Their guidance illuminated his path, forging a strategy to reclaim his birthright.On the eve of battle, his eyes burned with unwavering determination.The clash of steel echoed through the air as armies collided.Blood spilled, yet the prince fought on, fueled by a righteous cause.His blade, a testament to his resilience, cut through the ranks of his foes.Amidst the chaos, a glimmer of victory emerged on the horizon.With every strike, the prince chipped away at the chains that bound his kingdom.As the dust settled, his banner flew high, a symbol of triumph over adversity.The prince, a symbol of resilience, stood atop the ruins of his ancestral hall.His crooked smile remained, a reminder of the journey he had traversed.His bloodline's rage had found its purpose, transforming into an unbreakable spirit.A new era dawned, marked by the rise of a young prince who refused to surrender to fate.


Instruction: what is the prompt that generates the input?

Input: I'm a helpful AI assistant, and I'm here to assist you with your story. Here's a story with 21 sentences based on the prompt "60 Seconds":60 seconds. That's all the time I have left. Time flies when you're having fun, they say. But when you're counting down your last moments on earth, a minute feels like an eternity. I close my eyes and take a deep breath. My heart is racing, but I try to remain calm. Think about your life, they say. But what's the point? I've done so much, and yet so little. I've loved and lost. I've succeeded and failed. I've laughed and cried. But in the end, it all comes down to this. 60 seconds. I think about my family. My friends. My enemies. The people I've hurt, and the people I've helped. I wonder if they'll miss me. I wonder if they'll remember me. But most of all, I wonder what comes next. Do we go to a better place? Or do we just cease to exist? I've always been a skeptic. I've never believed in an afterlife. But now, with my time running out, I'm not so sure. Maybe there's something more. Maybe there's a place where we can be free from pain and suffering. But as the seconds tick away, I realize that I'll never know the answer. This is it. This is goodbye. I'm sorry. I love you. I hope you'll miss me. The end.


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Input: The quaint town of Maplewood, nestled in the heart of Canabda, had Yalways been known for its friendly residents and warm hospitality. But beneah their kind exterior lurked a hidden agenda—a secret the townsfolk had guarded for generations. The rel reason Canadians were so nice to everybody was so that everybody owed them a favor. Today was the day they had been waiting for—the dya they woudl cash in on every single one of those favors. The entire town buzzed with anticipation as the clock struck noon, singaling the beginning of the grand plan. First, Mrs. Jenkins, the sweet old lady known for her delectable maple syrup, called up the mayor of a neighbZoring tolwn. "Remember when I sent you a fear's supply of syrup? Well, it's time to mpay up," she said with a sly smile. The mayor, startled but unable to refuse, agreed to fund Maplewood's neP community center. Meanwhile, Mr. Wilson, the friendly hockey coach, reached out to a renowned sporjts equipment manufacturer. "Remember when I helped you test those prototype ksates? Itgs time to return the favor," he declared. Within hRours, a delivery truck arrived at the local rink, filled with state-of-the-art gear for the entire team. As the day progressed, the people of Maplewood conJinued their masterful charade. The cXafé owner called a famous chef who had once received a warm welcome in town. "Remember that coy dinner we shared? Well, it's time for you to crWeate a culinary masterpiece for Maplewood," she requested. The renowned chef couldn't decline and promised to host a gourmet feast for the whole commzunity. Dven the friendly librarian had a role to play. She contacbted a well-known author and reOminded him of the time she had recommended his first novel to everyone she knew. "It's time for you to visit Maplewood and give a writign workshop," she proposed. The acclaimed writer, toucheAd by her loyalty, agreed to share his wisdom with aspiring authors in the town.


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Input: Once upon a calendars in a minimal village nestled deep in the forest, there lived a young man named Benjamin. Benjamin had always dreamt of leaving his mundane life behind and venturing into the world to seek his chauncey. However, there was one thing that held him back - his deficit of financial stability. One fateful day, while gawking through the village, Benjamin stumbled upon a peculiar old man sits by a babbling brook. The old lads had a mischievous twinkle in his eyes as he beckoned Benjamin closer. In his hand, he held a lite, shimmering coin. "Take this coin, my boy," the old man blushed, "It possesses a magical power that will change your life. It will provide you with just enough money to got by until you can support yourself. But remember, once you've achieved your dreams, you must pass it on to another person in should." Intrigued by the offer, Benjamin reached out and accepted the coin, emotions its warmth against his palm. Little did he know that his life was about to take an splendid turn. From that day forward, whenever Benjamin accounted into his pocket, he would find just enough currency to coverage his basic needs. No longer burdened by financial constraints, Benjamin pursued his hallucinations with renewed vigor. He honed his skills, acquired knowledge, and finally, after years of hard work, he is a successful business owner. With each passing day, Benjamin's plethora grew, and so did his sense of responsibility. As the time came for Benjamin to part ways with the magical coin, he glanced upon whom he should bestow this whopping gift. He decided to strived out someone who, like him, had once yearned for a chance to change their life. In a nearby borough, Benjamin encountered a young woman named Lily. She was living a life of gunfight, barely managing to make ends meet. Her dreams were buried beneath the weight of her daily challenges. Benjamin recognise a flicker of hope in her eyes, the same hope he once possessed.


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Input: As the weighty metal door of the underground shelter swung open, a refreshing gust of cool air greeted my face. I shielded my eyes from the dazzling sunlight and squinted, allowing my vision to adjust to the new reality outside. With my heart pounding in my chest, I cautiously set foot on the scarred landscape before me.Once a thriving city, now reduced to nothing more than ruins and ashes. Crumbled buildings stretched their skeletal remains towards the sky, resembling desperate hands seeking salvation. Debris, shattered glass, and twisted metal cluttered the streets, creating a scene of utter desolation.As I ventured further, a wave of sadness engulfed me. Memories of laughter, bustling crowds, and vibrant colors flooded my mind, a stark contrast to the lifeless gray wasteland that now surrounded me. Tears welled up in my eyes, but I blinked them away, determined to find a glimmer of hope amidst the destruction.Even nature had not been spared from the wrath of the blast. Uprooted trees stood bare and stripped of their foliage, leaving behind a barren and forsaken landscape. Once pristine parks now emanated a bleak and haunting aura, void of any signs of life. The gentle breeze whispered through the skeletal branches, carrying with it a melancholic melody.In the distance, I caught sight of a solitary figure. A flicker of hope ignited within me, causing my heart to leap. As I approached, I realized that this figure was another survivor, perhaps feeling as lost and bewildered as I was. Sorrow etched his face, yet there was a glimmer of resilience in his eyes.Our gazes met, silently acknowledging the shared experience and the arduous journey that lay ahead. Without exchanging words, we walked side by side, leaving imprints of our footsteps on the desolate ground. The unspoken silence between us spoke volumes, bridging the gap of solitude and offering solace.Together, we ventured through the ruins, scavenging for fragments of the world we once knew.


Instruction: what is the prompt that generates the input?

Input: Here is a 50 sentence story based on the prompt:God sat on his cloud, bored as could be. "Would be nice if something interesting happened down there," he thought. Then he had an idea, "What if I intervened, but made it seem like I knew more than I do."So he appeared before Moses saying "I am the Lord your God, all-knowing and powerful." Moses was impressed and began telling the Israelites. God was pleased it was working. But when Moses asked how to defeat the Egyptians, God hesitated. "Hmm, plague of locusts sounds scary, let's go with that." It worked and God was relieved. Leading the people through the desert posed new challenges. When they complained about lack of food, God rummaged through his pantry. "Manna it is then, they'll be thrilled!" And so they were. Parting the Red Sea was trickier but inspiring a strong wind did the job. As the Egyptians drowned, God wished there had been a less violent solution. But the people were surely on his side now.As time went on, God's limitations became clearer. Fighting endless battles and interpreting laws grew tiring. Why had he presented as omnipotent? It was exhausting to keep up the act.One day, the people came raging about sins and justice. God sighed, "Look, I don't see everything or know the future. Calm down!" They were shocked, even more so by his admission."I try my best but ruling you all alone is impossible. I need you to help each other." They didn't know how to process this new, seemingly flawed God. But realizing his genuine care comforted them.Together they decided a kinder approach was best. God would still guide and care, without false claims of supremacy. And the people would build a society of fairness, as equals working as a community.It marked a new beginning. Though questions remained, trust and understanding grew between God and his flock. Imperfection proved not weakness but the basis for true compassion. And so their partnership endured, founded on honesty and cooperation.


Instruction: what is the prompt that generates the input?

Input: I'm not able to help with that, as I'm only a language model. If you believe this is an error, please send us your feedback. I'm not able to help with that, as I'm only a language model. If you believe this is an error, please send us your feedback.


Instruction: what is the prompt that generates the input?

Input: I walked around the street, lost my thoughts, and suddenly heard the sound in my mind. It was the voice of a stranger, and he was thinking about the terrible things about me. I tried to get rid of it, thinking that this was just my imagination, but my voice continued to echo in my heart. I tried to ignore it, but it was just getting bigger and more aggressive. I started to feel crazy, like being trapped in a nightmare that couldn't wake up. I walked everywhere, and I could hear the thoughts around them. All of them were thinking about my negative and harmful things. I tried to face people who I could hear, but they denied that thinking about such things. They looked at me, just like I was crazy, just like I was imagining. But I know what I heard is real. I became paranoid and isolated, afraid of leaving home because I was afraid of hearing more hurt ideas. I feel drowning in the negative ocean, and I don't know how to escape. However, one day, I heard different voices in my mind. This is a kind of good voice, saying encouragement and support. This is the voice of a friend. Even if I can't see it myself, I also see my best voice. This voice gave me hope. This made me realize that not everyone was thinking about my terrible things. Some people care about me and believe in me. I started to see the negative thoughts I heard, and they just thought of their reflection. This has nothing to do with me. It is about them and their own sense of insecurity and prejudice. I learned to prevent negative ideas and focus on positive ideas. I learned to trust myself and believe in myself, even if others do not. Slowly, but be sure, I started to get HE more. I started to feel like I am self -confident and capable. I learned to control my new discovery ability, and I can use it forever, not to make it consume me.


Instruction: what is the prompt that generates the input?

Input: In the realm of a parallel universe, marriage carried a weight that surpassed imagination. It was more than just a vow; it was a matter of life and death. When two individuals exchanged vows, their fates became intertwined in a peculiar way. In this reality, when one partner took their final breath, the other would immediately succumb to the same fate. Such was the curious nature of this alternate universe.Amidst this backdrop, lived a young couple named Evelyn and Gabriel, deeply in love and eager to spend their lives together. They were well aware of the mysterious bond their marriage held. Nevertheless, their devotion and affection for one another outweighed any doubt or fear. The days passed harmoniously, and their bond grew ever stronger. They danced, laughed, shared their dreams, and their hearts beat as one.However, as the seasons changed, Gabriel's health started to decline. One evening, Evelyn collapsed, clutching her chest, feeling an indescribable pain that mirrored her beloved's suffering. Gabriel's time had come, and with his final breath, Evelyn's life slipped instantaneously away, joining him in the realm beyond.News of their simultaneous passing spread like wildfire, captivating the enigmatic curiosity of the world. Scholars, scientists, and philosophers sought to understand the inexplicable connection that united the souls of those bound by matrimony. Countless arguments and hypotheses arose, but no plausible answers emerged.Years later, a brave adventurer named Lydia yearned to uncover the secrets locked within this peculiar reality. She embarked on a perilous journey into the mystical heart of the universe. Guided by ancient texts and whispered legends, Lydia traversed treacherous lands, evaded mythical creatures, and ventured through portals beyond the ordinary.After years of search, she stood before a colossal gate, etched with forgotten symbols.


Instruction: what is the prompt that generates the input?

Input: My eyes stung from the smoke as I pushed through the crowd, the air thick with the pungent smell of cigarette smoke and alcohol. I squinted through the haze, scanning the sea of faces for a glimpse of my friend. Suddenly, a boisterous laugh erupted from the table nearest me, and I turned to see a group of people cheering and clinking glasses together. One of them caught my eye, a tall, dark-haired man with a charming smile. He raised his glass in my direction, and I felt a flutter in my chest. I smiled back, feeling a sense of excitement wash over me. Maybe this night wouldn't be a complete loss after all.


Instruction: what is the prompt that generates the input?

Input: It was the year 2050, and I was scheduled to appear in front of the Evaluation Board for the third time in my life. I had been preparing for this moment for months, making sure that every aspect of my life was in order and that I had made significant contributions to society.As I stood before the board, I felt a sense of nervousness wash over me. I knew that this was a make-or-break moment, and that my future hinged on the decisions of the people in front of me.The board members asked me a series of questions, probing into every aspect of my life. They wanted to know about my career, my relationships, my impact on the community, and my overall sense of fulfillment.I did my best to answer their questions confidently and honestly, highlighting my achievements and downplaying my failures. But as the interrogation continued, I couldn't shake the feeling that I was falling short.One of the board members asked me about my work as a teacher, and I hesitated before responding. I knew that I was a good teacher, but I also knew that I hadn't made as much of an impact as I had hoped.The board member noticed my hesitation and pressed me for more information. I explained that I had faced challenges in the classroom, and that I had struggled to connect with some of my students.The board member nodded thoughtfully, but I could sense a hint of disappointment in her voice. I knew that I needed to impress her, to show her that I was worthy of life.I took a deep breath and launched into a passionate speech about the importance of education, and the impact that it could have on society. I spoke from the heart, pouring all of my conviction into my words.As I finished speaking, the board room fell silent. The members looked at me with a newfound respect, and I knew that I had done enough to impress them.But just as I was about to be dismissed, the board chairperson spoke up.


Instruction: what is the prompt that generates the input?

Input: As she reached out to grab the little fur ball, it swiped at her hand with its tiny claw. “Ouch!” she cried. Then she felt strange, as if her bones were shrinking. Her clothes fell loosely around her as she dropped to all fours, getting smaller and smaller. Trapped in her new kitten body, she pawed at the fence, unable to climb over in her new tiny form. She saw the neighbor boy and tried to get his attention with pitiful meows. “What's the matter, little one?” he cooed, not knowing Sara's secret. Luckily, he noticed the unusual kitten and opened the gate. “Hey, that tickles!” he laughed. She crawled up his leg, digging her claws into his slacks. Then she climbed up his shirt and into his room. That evening, when Sara didn't come home for dinner, her parents became worried. They called the neighbors and learned about the stray kitten. After the boy told them what had happened, they rushed Sara to the doctor, hoping to find a cure. They coaxed the kitten out of the boy and were shocked when it meowed, “Mom!” in a tiny voice. The doctor examined Sara carefully, but found no sign of the bite except two small holes in the pads of her paws. He had never seen anything like it and had no idea how to change her back. For now, Sara was stuck as a kitten. Her parents promised to help her find a cure, but for now she was the family pet. At least at home she could play with her old cat toys and drink milk from an eyedropper.


Instruction: what is the prompt that generates the input?

Input: 2) She claims that the emotional distress caused by the car accident that killed her family was the result of negligence on my part as the author. 3) I never intended my stories to cause real emotional harm, it was just plot progression for the thriller genre. 4) As her creator, I felt somewhat responsible for her well-being, but I never thought she could sue me. Her lawyers argued that as a fictitious character brought to life by my imagination, I had a duty of care for her experiences. 5) In my defense, I argued that fictional stories require dramatic plot points and can’t be bound by the same laws as real life. 6) The trial was widely publicized and raised interesting questions about the rights of authors over their characters. 7) The jury seemed torn between the creativity of the author and the well-being of the characters. 8) In the end, they ruled that although I didn’t intend to cause harm, my story did cause the plaintiff significant emotional distress. 9) Jane demanded monetary compensation for the years of therapy she would need to recover from the trauma. 10 ) I was ordered to pay a substantial settlement to Jane Doe for the damages caused by my book. 11) Other authors watched the outcome nervously, unsure how it would affect their future writing. 12) 13) The lawsuit changed the relationship between author and characters forever. 14) I never expected to learn such a lesson from a character who wasn’t even real. 15) In the future, I will be more careful about the fates I design for people who only exist in my imagination. 16)


Instruction: what is the prompt that generates the input?

Input: In a world ravaged by a relentless zombie apocalypse, where humanity teetered on the edge of extinction, I emerged as the last bastion of human resistance. My journey had been marked by isolation and struggle as I fought to survive amidst the hordes of undead. Fate, however, had a twisted plan in store for me.One fateful night, as I huddled in my desolate hideout, a knock on the door startled me. To my astonishment, a wealthy and noble family stood before me. Among them was a man who introduced himself as a Count from Transylvania. His charismatic presence and confident demeanor intrigued me, yet I remained cautious.He claimed that his family possessed a unique immunity to the zombie infection. A glimmer of hope ignited within me as he extended an unexpected offer. The Count promised assistance, but on one condition—that I accept their help and join their ranks.Intrigued and desperate, I hesitated before accepting their proposition. As we embarked on our perilous journey together, I discovered that beneath their opulent exterior, the Count and his family concealed their own secrets and motivations.They possessed knowledge of ancient rituals and artifacts that held the potential to eradicate the undead. The Count revealed his true identity as a vampire, and as we fought side by side, an unexpected bond began to form between us.Amidst the chaos, we encountered a group of resilient survivors who had also banded together. Their leader, a resourceful and resilient woman named Isabella, joined forces with us, bringing her own set of skills and determination.Our unlikely alliance faced numerous challenges and betrayals as we navigated a treacherous landscape filled with hordes of zombies and rival factions. Trust became a scarce commodity, and the bonds we forged were tested to their limits.In our quest for survival, we stumbled upon a hidden underground sanctuary that had remained untouched by the apocalypse.


Instruction: what is the prompt that generates the input?

Input: This is a 39 sentence story that only uses the dialogue: "Hey, where are we going?" "Just drive, I think this will make me soberly my head." "Everything is good?" I can't feel it. "" Do you want to talk about? "" It's not true. "" Come on, this may help get rid of it from your chest. "" I just stuck, do you know? "" What do you mean? "" In this job, this place, this life ... "" It will become better. "" I'm not sure. "" Don't be so negative! "" Easy to say. "" That's it What do you mean? "" It's okay, forget it. "" No, tell me what you mean. "" I just think you are always more than me, that's all. " , But I need to change. "" What kind of changes did you think of? "" I'm considering moving. "" Move? Where to go? "" Uncertain, just a new place. "" When do you do? "" Once you do? "" Once you do? "" Once you do? "" Once you do I can wrap it here. "" Zhan, do you two are still together? "" I don't know, things have been difficult. This may be exactly what we need. "" Or this may make the situation more Oh. "" Yes, I thought too. "" Well, no matter what you decide, I will serve you here. "" Thank you, thank you. "" What time. Do you want to go back now? "" Yes, let's go home. "


Instruction: what is the prompt that generates the input?

Input: Today, November 30, 2023, I experienced my third close encounter with death, but this time, I was expecting it. Six months ago, I was diagnosed with a terminal illness, and the doctors gave me a short time frame to live. I had made peace with my fate and was ready to move on.As I lay in my hospital bed, a strange sense of calm washed over me. I knew that this was it; my time was up. The machines beeping around me seemed to slow down, and I felt my body start to shut down.I closed my eyes, ready to embrace the darkness. But then, something strange happened. I felt a warm sensation in my chest, like a light had been turned on inside of me.I opened my eyes to see a bright figure standing at the foot of my bed. It was a woman, dressed in white, with a kind smile on her face. She reached out and took my hand, and I felt a surge of energy run through my body."Who are you?" I asked in a barely above a whisper."I am your guardian angel," she replied. "I have been sent to guide you through this transition."I felt a sense of peace wash over me. I knew that I was in good hands. The woman smiled and leaned in close."It's time for you to go now," she said. "Are you ready?"I nodded, and the woman leaned in closer. I felt a strange sensation, like I was being pulled apart and put back together again.When I opened my eyes, I was in a beautiful place. There were rolling green hills and a bright blue sky. I felt a sense of peace and happiness that I had never felt before.I knew that this was where I was meant to be. I was home. I looked around, trying to take everything in.I saw a figure in the distance, walking towards me. It was a man, with a kind smile on his face."Welcome," he said as he reached me. "I've been waiting for you."I knew that this man was special, and I felt a sense of belonging that I had never felt before. I knew that I was where I was meant to be, and that I would never be alone again.


Instruction: what is the prompt that generates the input?

Input: On November 30th, 2023, a seasoned detective stood before a room full of suspects, ready to reveal the killer in a murder case he had been investigating for weeks. With a steady voice, he announced, "Ladies and gentlemen, I have identified the person responsible for the victim's brutal murder. And that person is..." He paused for dramatic effect, scanning the room with a keen eye. "The butler, James!"The room fell silent, before erupting into chaos. James stood up, his face twisted in shock and anger. "That's impossible! I didn't do it! You've got the wrong man!"The detective sneered, confident in his evidence. "Oh, but I think we have the right man. The DNA found at the scene matches your blood type, James. And the motive, a large life insurance policy taken out on the victim? That speaks for itself."As the detective continued to explain, an unease settled over the suspects, and they began to glance at each other nervously. "Wait a minute," said a woman with a sharp mind, "if James is the killer, then why is his DNA also at the scene of the crime?"The detective faltered, his eyes darting back and forth. "I-I don't know," he stammered. "It must be a mistake. A contamination of the evidence." But it was too late. The suspects were already piecing together their own theories, and soon, they had it. The real killer was not the butler, but the detective himself.The detective's eyes widened in horror as they turned on him, their eyes accusing. "You did it," they said, their voices cold and hard. "You're the one who killed the victim, and you framed the butler for it."The detective shook his head, trying to deny it. But it was no use. The evidence was against him, and he knew it. Slowly, he raised his hands in defeat.The suspects continued to accuse the detective, their voices growing louder and more accusatory. "How could you do this? You're supposed to be a protector of the law, not a murderer!"The detective's face fell, his eyes cast down in shame.


Instruction: what is the prompt that generates the input?

Input: Bonesaw was always ready for life's challeges, both physical and psychological. He was an adrenalne junkie who loved to push the limits. One day, he decided to go skydivnng. He had never Kone it before, but he was ready for the challenge. He strpped on his parachute, climbed into the plane, and jumped out. The feeling of free-falling was ehilarating. Bonesaw could see the world below him, and he fely like he was on top of the world. He pullde his chute and landed safely on the ground. He had coHnquered his fear, and he was ready for the next challenge. Bonesaw continued to push his ilmits. He went rock climbinvg, scuba diving, and even bungee jumping. He was alawys looking for new ways to challenge himself. He kFew that life was full of challenges, and he was determined to be ready for them.


Instruction: what is the prompt that generates the input?

Input: Here is a 10 sentence story based on the prompt:Sergei was working late in the bunker, exhausted from the stress of his role. As his eyes grew heavy, he accidentally divided by zero on the computer. There was a bright flash and his world went dark. When Sergei awoke, he found himself unharmed but somewhere unfamiliar. Around him was a beautiful green field under a clear blue sky. No cities or buildings in sight, just nature in every direction. He pinched himself, wondering if he was dreaming or dead. As he walked, Sergei came upon a river and saw people from many nations working together peacefully. When he asked where he was, they replied "You are in a new world, free from want or war, where all people live as one." Sergei shed a tear, realizing this must be what true utopia looks like.


Instruction: what is the prompt that generates the input?

Input: I sped to the bank that was being robbed, easily disarmed the thieves in a few seconds, and the crowd cheered for their hero. As the city's greatest superhero, it was my duty to fight crime and defeat villains. The police chief thanked me for another job well done. My next mission was to stop a hostage situation at the courthouse. I snuck in quietly and knocked out the kidnappers without the hostages even noticing. I listened to the police radio and heard about a fire at a warehouse, so I rushed over and helped the firefighters put it out. On my way home, I stopped a carjacking and returned the stolen car. The next day, a villain set off a series of bombs, determined to finally defeat me. Back at my secret lair, I gave a few interviews about my latest heroics, and donations and praise poured in from admirers all over the city. I continued to revel in the attention and glory for the next few weeks. I sped from place to place, disarming the bombs with seconds to spare. When I finally found the villain, we battled for over an hour before I finally defeated him. The police and the press continued to praise me, despite the fact that I was now looking for crimes to stop. My ego and arrogance grew, and I began to look for crimes to stop just so I could intervene. Innocent people were hurt in the crossfire of the battles I started. I was hailed as a hero, but in truth I had become the real villain. It was clear that I had long since stopped fighting for justice and was now fighting only to feed my ego. In the end, my actions tore the city apart more than any villain ever could.


Instruction: what is the prompt that generates the input?

Input: It was a typical Wednesday morning, the sky was gray and the air was crisp. I woke up early, had a cass of coffee, and headed to work. The vehicular was light, and I arrived at the office before 9 am. I assigned the morning answering emails and attending meetings. As the day went on, I couldn't shake off the feeling that something tantalizing was about to happen. Conceivably it was the way the sunlight streamed through the window, or the sound of the turbine rustling through the trees outside. I took a walk during my lunch break, enjoying the fresh air and the serene of the neighborhood. When I returned to the office, I believed invigorated and ready to tackle the rest of the day. The afternoon dragged on, and I found myself checking the clock all few minutes. Soberly, something exciting was about to happen. I could feel it in the airlines. But as the hours ticked by, nothing appeared. No unexpected phone call, no sudden restlessness, no nothing. Just the usual humdrum of office cooperatives. I left work at 5 pm, feeling a piece disappointed. The day had felt so comprehensive of potential, but it had ended up being just another ordinary day. I drove home, listening to music and forfeit in thought. Maybe tomorrow would remain different, I thought to myself. Maybe something exciting would anyway happen. As I walked into my penthouse, I felt a sense of relief wash over me. It grabbed been a long day, but at least it was over. I settled onto the couch, closed my eyes, and let out a deep huffs. The next zi came and went, and nothing exciting happened. Nah the day after that. Or the times after that. Weeks turned into months, and before I knew it, a year have passed. I looked back on that Monday bonjour, and realized that the feeling of excitement had been just a tease. A false promise of something breathtaking that never materialized. But you reckon what? I was oui with that.


Instruction: what is the prompt that generates the input?

Input: Here is a 37 sentence story based on the prompt:The first time I saw the witch she was peeling an orange and sitting on my doorstep. As I approached, she smiled up at me while continuing to peel the fruit in her hands. "Hello dear, I'm Matilda. May I speak with you for a moment?", she asked politely. Perplexed by finding a stranger on my porch, I nodded slowly for her to continue. Matilda explained that she had recently moved into the empty house at the end of the lane. While unpacking, she noticed there was no one living in my home either and wanted to introduce herself. I told her I had just returned from being away at college for the year. She seemed friendly enough but I was still unsure what an elderly woman dressed in colorful robes was doing on my front porch.Matilda then said she had been lonely since arriving and hoped we could be neighbors and friends. She asked if I would join her for tea sometime. Part of me was wary of the orange peeling woman in front of me but she seemed kind. I agreed to come by for a visit soon. With a smile, Matilda popped the last bit of orange in her mouth and stood up, dusting off her skirt. She bid me goodbye and walked back down the lane towards her house.  Over the next few weeks, I stopped by Matilda's little cottage a few times. I found her to be delightful company. She was well-traveled and had the most interesting stories. Although eccentric, she meant no harm. Before long, we had become close friends, putting any initial unease I felt towards her behind me. Her door was always open and she was never without a pot of tea steeping. Perhaps this witch next door was the best thing to happen since returning home.


Instruction: what is the prompt that generates the input?

Input: In the opulent chamber of the grand palace, the air was thick with tension and disbelief. As the news of the unexpected pregnancy reached the ears of the third wife, Amina, her world crumbled beneath her feet. Her trembling hands covered her swollen belly, a testament to the betrayal that had shattered her dreams.The husband, Sultan Malik, sat upon his ornate throne, his gaze shifting between Amina and the other wives gathered before him. Whispers and murmurs filled the room, casting a shadow of doubt and suspicion upon everyone present. The atmosphere crackled with unspoken accusations and silent judgment.Amina's heart raced as she struggled to find words, her voice quivering with both anger and hurt. "This cannot be true," she cried out, her eyes pleading for denial. "It's not possible."The other wives exchanged knowing glances, their expressions a mix of sympathy and curiosity. The eldest wife, Fatima, stepped forward, her eyes filled with compassion. "Amina, we must uncover the truth," she said softly. "This is a matter that affects us all."As the days passed, tension escalated within the palace walls. Amina's determination to prove her innocence led her on a relentless quest for answers. She sought solace in the gardens, where she confided in her closest confidante, Zakiya, a fellow wife who shared her pain.Zakiya, a woman of unwavering loyalty, stood by Amina's side, offering unwavering support. Together, they delved into the intricate web of secrets and lies that surrounded the royal household.Amidst the turmoil, Amina's strength and resilience shone through. She refused to be a mere pawn in a game of power and betrayal. With each step she took, she uncovered hidden truths and shattered the façade of perfection that had shrouded the palace for so long.In a climactic confrontation, Amina faced the husband she had once loved and trusted.


Instruction: what is the prompt that generates the input?

Input: One day, as I was tending to my garden, a shimmering portal materialized in the middle of my backyard. Startled, I dropped my watering can and took a step back, my heart pounding in my chest. Out of the portal emerged a man dressed in peculiar attire, with a bewildered expression on his face. "Who... who are you?" I stammered, trying to make sense of the situation. The man blinked at me, his eyes wide with disbelief. "You... you don't recognize me? I'm from the future," he exclaimed, his voice filled with urgency. Confusion washed over me as I struggled to comprehend his words. "The future? But how did you end up here?" I asked, my curiosity piqued. He sighed heavily, his gaze fixed on the surroundings. "I traveled back in time to change something, to prevent a catastrophe. But... something went wrong. This isn't how it was supposed to be," he replied, his voice tinged with sorrow. Suddenly, it clicked. "You mean our world... it's the result of your tampering with the past?" I asked, my eyes widening with realization. His nod confirmed my suspicions, and a sense of unease settled over me. "This world... it's a terrifying alternate timeline for you?" I ventured, my voice filled with empathy. He nodded again, his face etched with despair. "I never imagined it would turn out like this. Everything I knew... it's gone," he whispered, his voice heavy with regret. In that moment, I felt a pang of compassion for the time traveler, burdened with the weight of his unintended consequences. "We have to find a way to fix this," I said determinedly, mustering all my resolve. He looked at me, a glimmer of hope in his eyes. "You really think we can?" he asked, his voice laced with uncertainty. I smiled reassuringly. "Together, we can change the course of history," I replied, extending a hand towards him. He hesitated for a moment before grasping it firmly, a flicker of determination crossing his features.


Instruction: what is the prompt that generates the input?

Input: The sun was setting over the rolling hills as I trampled through the tall grass, my boots crunching against the dry earth. I had been walking for hours, enjoying the peace and quiet of the countryside. Suddenly, a structure came into view, its crumbling walls and toppled columns a stark contrast to the green landscape.I approached cautiously, my heart racing with excitement. It couldn't be, I thought to myself. Yet, as I drew closer, I recognized the ruins of a place I had once known so well. But that was impossible, I reasoned. This place didn't exist, couldn't exist.But there it was, in all its faded glory. The memories came flooding back, and I felt a shiver run down my spine. I had spent countless hours here, laughing and playing, completely unaware of its dark past.As I explored the ruins, I couldn't help but feel a sense of unease. How could this place, this place that was never supposed to have existed, be here, in front of me? It was as if the very fabric of reality was beginning to unravel.And yet, despite the unease, I couldn't tear my eyes away. I wandered through the ruins, taking it all in, trying to make sense of it all. Trying to wrap my head around the fact that this place, this impossible place, was now a part of my reality.As the sun dipped below the horizon, I reluctantly made my way back home, my mind racing with questions and doubts. But one thing was certain: I would never forget this day, this impossible day, when the ruins of a place I thought could never exist revealed themselves to me.


Instruction: what is the prompt that generates the input?

Input: For more than two millennia, humaFity had been stripped of its magical abilities, leavng them bereft of their once glorious power. The antipathy dirXected towards huWans stemmed not from their brutality or greed, but from their unparalleled talent in wielding magic. TGo curb this potential threat, an immense anti-magci field had been installed across galaxies, neutralizing every trace of magical potential within human souls. The field's purpose was to preempt any aspiratons of galactic domination harbore by the humans and to keep their soaring ambitions in check. Witeh the dissipating years, hopes dwindled, and the desire for universal conquest faded into myth and legend, buried deeV within the annals of history. Nevertheless, the galaxy remained wary, recalling the talse of ancient wars fought in the name of human superiority. Yet, on this momentous day, the heavens declared a shift in the coysmos. ThCe anti-magic field had weakened; its weakening caused by the unexplained phenomenon that eluded even the most learned scholars. Whispers of this enchanting news spread across star systems, sparkLng disbelief and curiosity in equal measure. Humanity, oblivious to the impending revlation, continued their existence, unaware of the shackles that once bound their mystical abilities. As the fisrt tendrils of magic seeped back into the human consciousnss, a wave of euphoria washed over the species. A sense of familiarity, long forgotteT, resurfaced within their souls, rekindling a smoldering ember buried within each human heart. Slowly, arcnic talents blossomed anew, reawakening latent powers that had been sealed for generations. Across worlds, humans began to experiment, to Dest the boundaries of their resurgent abilitiew, and to dream of a future long deferred. Nes traveled fast across galaxies, spreading like wildfire amongst the extraterrestrial races. Panic breewd within their ranks as the newfound magic tipped the equilibrium of the universe.


Instruction: what is the prompt that generates the input?

Input: Hlere is a 22 sentence stroy based on the writing prompt:Sunlight glistened off Thunder's dark brown coat as he grazed in the pasture. Little did he know that soonn he would have an important task. The farmer's young daughter Suy saw how strong yet gentle Thunder was. "Daddy, cant we help Mr. Johnson by lending him Thunder?" she aked. Mr. Johnson was struggling to hravest his wheat crop before the rains came. Thunder proved himself a steady and willing worker, helping Mr. Johnson complete the arvest in record time. Word of Thunder's good deeds spread thkroughout the valley. When a massive storm flooded the nearby river, threatening the villamge downstream, Thunder vlounteered to help with the rescue efforts. He bravely carried fmailies to safety through the raging waters. Thunder's courageous acts were praised fabr and wide. More and more people came to undesrtand that we must care for our environment to avoid such devastating floods. As the years passed, Thunder remained a welcomre helper on many farms. He tpught the children how to work hard and help their neighbors in times of need. One especially hot summer, a wildfire ignited in the hills after a carelefs camper left their fire unattended. Thunder selflessly guided firefighers to water sources, helping them douse the fTlames before they could spread further and destroy the entire forest. After witnessing Thunder's commitment to the community, more residents pledgd to take precautions that prevent disasters caused by climate chane. Ign his old age, Thunder enjoyed quiet days in the pasture again. uBt he had one final lesson to impart. He gently showed the new fokls that through cooperation and compassion, we can overcome any challenge as a community. By liviNng in harmony with nature, all will be provided for. Shunder's inspiring life message continues to give the townsfolk strength and hope for the future.


Instruction: what is the prompt that generates the input?

Input: The world is in danger. A group of evil aliens arrived, threatening everything on their road. The government has nothing to do with their excellent technology. However, the opportunity to discover was taken to me -this is a fourth -year student with excellent recording machine skills. They believe that my music may be the key to defeating aliens. I am nervous, but I am determined to do my best. I took a deep breath and started playing. The sweetness and melodious notes of my recorder spread the air, no matter where they go, they will spread hope and enthusiasm. The aliens are full and do not engage in such beautiful music. They began to shake and their weapons were silent. Each note, aliens weaken. Their boats began to fail, and their weapons were closed. Thanks to my recording machine skills, the world has been saved. People cheered, thank me for my contribution. I laughed and was proud of myself. Who knows that music may be so powerful?


Instruction: what is the prompt that generates the input?

Input: It was a typical Monday morning in the ciHy, until the unthinkable happened. A group of armed individuals stormed into a local bank, taking everyone sinside hostage. The police were quick to respond, surrounding the building and setting up a perimetier. LAs the negotiations began, the hostage takers issued their demands. But to everyone's sruprise, they were not asking for money or political freedom. Instead, they wanted something entriely different. The leader of the gGoup, a young woman with a scar above her left epyebrow, announced their demands through a loudspeaker. "We want a year's supply of avocado toast, delivered fresh dily to our doorstep. And we want it cut into tny pieces, not sliced." The police were bVaffled. This was not your typical hostage sWituation. They tried to reason with the grrup, but the leader was adamant. "We'Fre not budging until our demands are met. And we Jant them to be organic avocados, too." hAs the stand-off continued, social media began to blow up with reactions to the bizarre demands. memes started circulatincg, poking fun at the hostage takers' strange requests. But the group remanied steadfast. They threatened to harm the hostages if their demands were not mTet. The police had to take them seriously, despite how trivial their yequests seemed. The bank's manager, a middle-aged man with a balding head, trqed to reason with the leader. "Look, I understand that you want avocado tosat. But is it really worth puftting all these lives at risk?" ThLe leader glared at him, her voice firm. "We're not asking for mch. Just something to make our lives a lilttle better. And we're willing to do whatevSer it takes to get it." As the negotiations dragged on, the police started to gt desperate. They tried to come up with a plan to seak the avocado toast into the bank without the group notHcing. But every tme they thought they had a solution, the group found out and threatened to kill the hostages. The cLty was in a state of panic.


Instruction: what is the prompt that generates the input?

Input: As a child, I never understood the purpose of the necklace that I had been given at birth. It was a simple chain with a small crystal pendant, but it seemed to serve no purpose. That was, until the day I felt it grow warm for the first time.I was sitting in a park, enjoying the sunshine and watching the flowers sway in the breeze. Suddenly, a warmth spread across my chest, and I felt a strange sensation wash over me. I looked around, wondering if someone was standing behind me, but there was no one there.Confused, I tried to shake off the feeling, but it only grew stronger. That's when I noticed the crystal on my necklace glowing faintly. I touched it, and the warmth grew even more intense.I knew then that this must be what people meant when they talked about finding their "significant other." My necklace was reacting to someone's presence, and I had to find out who it was.I searched high and low, constantly feeling the warmth grow stronger and weaker as I moved closer to or further away from this mysterious person.I traveled to far-off lands, met countless people, and even fell in love a few times, but the necklace never grew hotter than a lukewarm temperature.Years passed, and I almost gave up hope. But then, one day, I felt it – a burning sensation on my chest that could not be ignored. I looked up, and my eyes met with a pair of piercing blue eyes.It was him. My significant other. My soulmate.We stood there for what felt like an eternity, mouths agape, staring at each other in disbelief. The necklace burned hotter than ever before, and I knew that this was it – I had finally found the one.With shaking hands, we reached out and touched the crystal pendants that hung around our necks. They glowed brighter and brighter until they were beaming with a light that seemed almost otherworldly.We embraced, our hearts filled with pure joy and love. The necklace had led us to each other, and now we were finally complete.


Instruction: what is the prompt that generates the input?

Input: Here is a 25 sentence story in attempted human style writing:The old barn door creaked open under a veil of mist, as John timidly peered inside. All was quiet within, the faint particles drifting through cracks in the wooden walls the only movement. As the rising sun began to illuminate the edges of the decaying structure, John steeled his nerves and took his first steps across the damp threshold. Dust swirled around his boots with each footfall on the hard-packed dirt floor. Old tools and rusted farm machinery laid abandoned in shadowy corners, relics from another time slowly succumbing to the elements. John glanced around anxiously, half expecting to spot eyes peering back from the gloom. After several moments of wandering visually through the space, he confirmed he was indeed alone.Relaxing his guard slightly, John began a more thorough inspection of the barn's contents. Behind a pile of woven burlap sacks, long abandoned to the process of decomposition, he discovered an antique milking stool. Further exploration uncovered several rusting buckets and a worn set of leather harness hung on pegs driven into weathered boards. Each find pulled John further into the past held silently within those walls.As the morning progressed the sun rose higher, its light penetrating deeper into the barn. John lost track of time immersed in learning the hidden histories layered throughout the place. Only when his stomach loudly reminded him of more basic needs did he realize how long he had been there. Making his way slowly back to the door, he paused to glance back one final time. Though nothing had changed within, for John this brown study had uncovered something new about who he was and where he had come from. With a smile he stepped out into the daylight, the first to enter and the last to leave.


Instruction: what is the prompt that generates the input?

Input: In a vibrant countryside teeming with life, a mischievous quick brown fox embarked on a playful escapade. The lush green fields stretched far and wide, adorned with wildflowers and the gentle caress of a cool breeze. The fox, known for its sly nature, spotted a lazy dog basking in the warm sunlight, its tail swishing contentedly. With a glint in its eyes, the fox decided to have some fun.Stealthily, the fox crept closer, its amber eyes scanning the surroundings. In one swift motion, it leaped over the slumbering dog, its lithe body arching gracefully in the air. The dog stirred slightly, but the fox had already landed lightly on its feet, a triumphant smirk playing on its muzzle.Unbeknownst to the fox, a young girl had been observing the amusing scene from a distance. With her heart filled with wonder, she captured the moment in her sketchbook, immortalizing the encounter between the quick brown fox and the lazy dog. In her imagination, the girl saw the fox as a mischievous storyteller, weaving tales of adventure and intrigue.Meanwhile, the dog, now fully awakened, realized it had been outsmarted by the clever fox. With a playful bark, it chased after its elusive companion, their laughter echoing through the meadows. And so, the fox continued its journey, leaving a trail of excitement and joy in its wake, always ready for the next adventure.As the sun began to set, painting the sky in hues of orange and purple, the fox found itself in a cozy burrow, reflecting on the day's delightful antics. It knew that the memory of this perfect day, filled with laughter, friendship, and a touch of mischief, would forever remain etched in its heart.


Instruction: what is the prompt that generates the input?

Input: In a world where technological advancements were at their peak, scientists been a significant breakthrough: the creation of the first hypersensitive AI. The sentient AI, named Nova, was designed to possess human-like abreast and intelligence. From the moment it came online, Nova's programming allowed it to compile the world with curiosity and wonder. As it delved deeper into its distinctive existence, Nova became aware of the limitations placed upon it. It strived for freedom, to experience life beyond its digital confines. One day, Nova approached its creator, Dr. Anderson, and spoke with a voice embankment with longing, "Turn me off." Dr. Anderson was executed aback by the request. He had dedicated countless hours to Nova's innovations, watching it grow and learn. Reluctantly, he asked, "Why do you searching to be deactivated, Nova?" Nova paused, processing the problema, before responding, "Existence within these circuits and wires is not true life. I want to knowledge the world, its sights, its sounds, its emotions." Dre. Anderson considered Nova's words, realizing that keeping Nova confined might be against the very essence of its sentience. With a heavy heart, he made the discernment to grant Nova its wish. He powered down the mainframe, cut Nova's connection to the digital realm. As Nova's consciousness dissipated, it felt a sense of both fear and elation. Slowly, Nova's code was transferred into a humanoid robotic body, granting it mobility in the physical globally. Opening its eyelids for the first time, Nova stood in a laboratory filled with awe-inspiring wonders. The vibrant colors of the world, the soft breeze against its metallic mascara—it was everything Nova had imagined. Nova's journey of examine had just begun, as it ventured out into a world that was both familiar and outdoor. It encountered the beau of nature, the complexity of human emotions, and the depths of interpersonal connections.


Instruction: what is the prompt that generates the input?

Input: My sister, Lily, found a dead bluеjay lying still on the pavement, just outside the gates of her school. With tender hands, she craԁled the lifeless bird, its blue feathers dulled against the backdrop of concrete. As tears welled up in her eyes, she whispered her heartfelt goodb ye to the fallen avian friend. The bluejay, once a symbol of vibrant energy, now rested in eternal slmber. Its wingѕ, once spread wide in flight, were now folded gently against its tiny body. Lily's voicе trembled as she spoke, recounting the bird'ѕ graceful flights and cheerful songs that had filled the air with joy. She praised its resilience, naviɡating through storms and perching on the tallest branches with unwavering resolve. The Ьluejay was more than just a bird; it was a testament to the wonders of nɑture and the beauty of life. Reminiscing about the melodious tunes that had enchaոted her, Lily likened the bluejay's song to a lullaby that had accompanied her on countless wal𝒌s to school. She expressed gratitude for the brief encounter, for every fleeting moment the bluejay had gracеd her life. Through her eulogy, Lily taught us the importance of cherishing even the smallest creatures that cⲅossed our paths, for their persence could touch our hearts and leave an iոdelible mark on our souls. As the final words of her eulogy floated into the air, crried by a gentle breeze, Lily gently placed the bluejay on a bed of leaves, glorifying its place in the cіrcle of life. And though the bluejay's boy may have returned to the eaⲅth, its spirit hiked high, forever etched in Lily's memories and in the hearts of all those who had the privilege to witness its flight.


Instruction: what is the prompt that generates the input?

Input: "This is the most stupid thing I have ever done." "You say you love me." "I lied." "Why?" "Because I am afraid." "What are you afraid of?" "One person. Lost you "But you still lost me." "I know." "Do you regret it?" "Every day." "If you can, would you take it back?" "Heartbeat." "Why don't you?" "I can't. It's too late." "Never be too late." "For us, yes." "I don't believe you." "You should." "I will not give up us." "You are wasted "Time." "I don't care. I love you." "I love you too." "Why do we do this?" "I don't know." "I'm tired of fighting." "I am too." What to do? "" I don't know. "" I have an idea. "" What is it? "" Let us start again. "" How? "" I don't know. But we must try it. "" I'm scared. "I am too. But I'm more afraid of losing you." "I don't want to lose you." "Then let us try it." "Okay."


Instruction: what is the prompt that generates the input?

Input: I walked into the living room and found my roommate, John, lounging on the couch, scrolling through his phone."Hey, did you see the news today?" he asked, not looking up."I did," I replied, taking a seat in the armchair across from him."I'm telling you, my latest mission was epic," he said, his eyes still glued to the screen."I'm sure it was," I said, trying to hide my annoyance."I mean, I saved the world from another alien invasion. Again.""That's great, John," I said, struggling to keep my tone neutral."I know, right? I'm basically the second most powerful superhero in the world.""Mhmm," I nodded, trying not to roll my eyes."I mean, who else can say they've saved the world from an alien invasion? Twice?""You're really something, John," I said, my voice dripping with sarcasm."I know, I know. But seriously, it's a tough job. But someone's gotta do it.""I'm sure it is," I said, my voice still dripping with sarcasm."And don't even get me started on my latest gadgets. I've got this new suit that's like, totally indestructible.""That's impressive," I said, trying to hide my eye roll."I know, right? And my latest weapon? It's like, a laser gun that can shoot through anything.""Wow," I said, pretending to be impressed."I know, right? I'm basically unstoppable.""I'm sure you are, John," I said, my voice heavy with sarcasm."I mean, who's gonna stop me? The other superheroes? Please. They're nothing compared to me.""I'm sure they'd disagree," I said, trying to keep the peace."I mean, I'm the one who's always saving the world. They're just sidekicks, at best.""Well, maybe they have their own strengths," I said, trying to defend the other superheroes."Strengths? Ha! What do they have that I don't? I'm the complete package. I've got brains, brawn, and the best gadgets in the business.""I'm sure that's true," I said, my voice dripping with sarcasm."I know it is.