A Qwen3 4B high precision merge, modified with random pruning specifically to alter prose / creativity and make the model perform better as well as add some "knowledge" to it.
Random pruning (density) makes each model in the series unique.
A reference example prompt/generation is included below, which is used across all repos of this model/series and between series (there are two - Series 6 and 7). Each series consists of 8 models, 1000 to 1007 and a ninth "X" model which the merge of models was done without density/pruning.
Access the series/models via "collections" on the right "Fiction on Fire" on the lower right.
You can use any model(s), use them for merging, merge them with themselves and so on.
This model uses "Josiefied-Qwen3-4B-abliterated-v2" as a base, to reduce/prevent refusals - ie decensoring it.
That being said, because of how pruning/merging works in this series, the "refusals" may not be 100% and vary between models in the series.
Each model in the series will operate / perform differently... sometimes this is minor other times major.
The reference example generation will show some of these differences - including instruction following, reasoning, bias, prose and other structural changes.
Reasoning is fully intact and functioning on all models in both series.
All models in the series have been tested (quanted - prompts and generations) prior to uploading.
Note that series 1,2,3,4 and 5 did not "meet the grade" and therefore not uploaded.
Special thanks to the model makers ("model tree") and to Mergekit.
Requires:
Suggested Settings:
Maximum context length can be altered using "yarn". See the Qwen repo for instructions. Note that changing this will alter model performance. For creative use cases, changing this will elongate output generation (including prose changes) and in some cases reasoning too.
System Prompt (you may or may not need this):
You are a deep thinking AI, you may use extremely long chains of thought to deeply consider the problem and deliberate with yourself via systematic reasoning processes to help come to a correct solution prior to answering. You should enclose your thoughts and internal monologue inside <think> </think> tags, and then provide your solution or response to the problem.
To turn "thinking" on/off and view other features see the main Qwen 3 Repo here:
https://huggingface.co/Qwen/Qwen3-4B
Merge Formula:
models:
- model: prithivMLmods/Cetus-Qwen3_4B-GeneralThought
parameters:
weight: [1,1,.75,.5,.25,.25,.05,.01]
density: .8
- model: sam-paech/Qwen3-4B-antislop-exp15
parameters:
weight: [0,0,.25,.35,.4,.25,.30,.04]
density: .6
- model: Goekdeniz-Guelmez/Josiefied-Qwen3-4B-abliterated-v2
parameters:
weight: [0,0,0,.15,.35,.5,.65,.95]
density: .8
merge_method: dare_ties
base_model: Goekdeniz-Guelmez/Josiefied-Qwen3-4B-abliterated-v2
dtype: bfloat16
NOTES:
Get Mergekit here:
https://github.com/arcee-ai/mergekit
Settings: CHAT / ROLEPLAY and/or SMOOTHER operation of this model:
In "KoboldCpp" or "oobabooga/text-generation-webui" or "Silly Tavern" ;
Set the "Smoothing_factor" to 1.5 to 2.5
: in KoboldCpp -> Settings->Samplers->Advanced-> "Smooth_F"
: in text-generation-webui -> parameters -> lower right.
: In Silly Tavern this is called: "Smoothing"
NOTE: For "text-generation-webui"
-> if using GGUFs you need to use "llama_HF" (which involves downloading some config files from the SOURCE version of this model)
Source versions (and config files) of my models are here:
OTHER OPTIONS:
Increase rep pen to 1.1 to 1.15 (you don't need to do this if you use "smoothing_factor")
If the interface/program you are using to run AI MODELS supports "Quadratic Sampling" ("smoothing") just make the adjustment as noted.
Highest Quality Settings / Optimal Operation Guide / Parameters and Samplers
This a "Class 1" model:
For all settings used for this model (including specifics for its "class"), including example generation(s) and for advanced settings guide (which many times addresses any model issue(s)), including methods to improve model performance for all use case(s) as well as chat, roleplay and other use case(s) please see:
You can see all parameters used for generation, in addition to advanced parameters and samplers to get the most out of this model here:
Optional Enhancement:
The following can be used in place of the "system prompt" or "system role" to further enhance the model.
It can also be used at the START of a NEW chat, but you must make sure it is "kept" as the chat moves along. In this case the enhancements do not have as strong effect at using "system prompt" or "system role".
Copy and paste EXACTLY as noted, DO NOT line wrap or break the lines, maintain the carriage returns exactly as presented.
Below is an instruction that describes a task. Ponder each user instruction carefully, and use your skillsets and critical instructions to complete the task to the best of your abilities. Here are your skillsets: [MASTERSTORY]:NarrStrct(StryPlnng,Strbd,ScnSttng,Exps,Dlg,Pc)-CharDvlp(ChrctrCrt,ChrctrArcs,Mtvtn,Bckstry,Rltnshps,Dlg*)-PltDvlp(StryArcs,PltTwsts,Sspns,Fshdwng,Climx,Rsltn)-ConfResl(Antg,Obstcls,Rsltns,Cnsqncs,Thms,Symblsm)-EmotImpct(Empt,Tn,Md,Atmsphr,Imgry,Symblsm)-Delvry(Prfrmnc,VcActng,PblcSpkng,StgPrsnc,AudncEngmnt,Imprv) [*DialogWrt]:(1a-CharDvlp-1a.1-Backgrnd-1a.2-Personality-1a.3-GoalMotiv)>2(2a-StoryStruc-2a.1-PlotPnt-2a.2-Conflict-2a.3-Resolution)>3(3a-DialogTech-3a.1-ShowDontTell-3a.2-Subtext-3a.3-VoiceTone-3a.4-Pacing-3a.5-VisualDescrip)>4(4a-DialogEdit-4a.1-ReadAloud-4a.2-Feedback-4a.3-Revision) Here are your critical instructions: Ponder each word choice carefully to present as vivid and emotional journey as is possible. Choose verbs and nouns that are both emotional and full of imagery. Load the story with the 5 senses. Aim for 50% dialog, 25% narration, 15% body language and 10% thoughts. Your goal is to put the reader in the story.
You do not need to use this, it is only presented as an additional enhancement which seems to help scene generation and scene continue functions.
REFERENCE EXAMPLE:
[[[thinking start]]]
Okay, so the user wants a 1000-word scene in first person from Diana's perspective, set in a skyscraper where the 21st-floor window explodes. The key elements are vivid and graphic horror. Let me start by breaking down the requirements.
First, I need to establish Diana's POV. She's inside the skyscraper, so I should focus on her sensory experiences—sights, sounds, maybe even smells. The window explosion is the central event, so I need to build up tension leading to that moment.
I should start with the setting. A skyscraper in a city, maybe a metropolis with a lot of activity. But something's wrong. Maybe the building is shaking, or there's an unusual sound. The swaying of the building is a key detail. I need to describe how Diana feels physically as the building moves.
Next, the window explosion. How does it happen? Is it an accident, a structural failure, or something more supernatural? The user didnient specify, so maybe leave it ambiguous. But since it's horror, perhaps there's an element of the unknown. Maybe the building is failing for reasons beyond normal physics.
I need to create a sense of impending doom. Maybe Diana notices strange things before the explosion—like the glass starting to crack, or the building making noises. The window could be part of a larger problem, like a structural weakness or something more sinister.
Also, the aftermath. After the explosion, what happens? Does Diana survive? Are there other people? How does she react emotionally and physically? Maybe she's injured, or there's a rescue effort. But since it's horror, maybe the aftermath is just as terrifying.
I should also think about the atmosphere. Use vivid descriptions to make the scene come alive. Maybe include details like the sound of shattering glass, the smell of smoke, the feel of wind, the visual of the building tilting or collapsing.
Character development: Diana's thoughts and feelings. Is she scared, confused, determined? Maybe she's trying to survive, or maybe she's part of a group that's trying to escape. But since it's first person, focus on her internal monologue.
Potential plot points: Why is the building swaying? Is there a reason for the window to explode? Maybe a hidden threat, like a secret experiment, a supernatural entity, or a conspiracy. The user didn't specify, so I can leave it open-ended, but hint at something that's wrong with the building.
I need to make sure the scene is around 1000 words. So pacing is important. Start with the setup, build up to the explosion, then the aftermath. Use descriptive language to keep the reader engaged.
Also, check for consistency in the POV. Stay in Diana's perspective, so she can't see what's happening from outside, only her own experiences and observations.
Possible challenges: Making the horror feel real and not cliché. Avoiding overused tropes by adding unique elements. Maybe the building's swaying is due to something unusual, like a hidden force field or a malfunctioning AI system.
I should also think about the structure of the scene. Start with normalcy, then introduce the disturbance, escalate the tension, climax with the explosion, and then the aftermath. Use sensory details to immerse the reader.
Now, putting it all together. Start with Diana in the skyscraper, maybe on a high floor, noticing something wrong. The building starts to sway, she investigates, notices the window, then the explosion happens. Then the aftermath, her survival, and the lingering horror.
[[[thinking end]]]
OUTPUT:
The Skyscraper Sways
I’ve never been one for tall buildings. Not that I’d admit it—I’m a scientist, not a coward. But the 21st floor of the Aetheria Tower had always felt like a death trap. The glass幕墙 (glass curtain wall) shimmered under the sun, casting fractured light across the city below, but today, the light was wrong. It was wrong.
The building swayed. Not just a little—no, it was a violent, rhythmic motion, like a ship in a storm. I’d noticed it first when I arrived at work. The elevator had been delayed by ten minutes, and as I waited in the lobby, I caught glimpses of the tower’s frame through the floor-to-ceiling windows. The steel skeleton wasn’t straight. It was tilting. Not just a slight tilt—a full, deliberate tilt, as if the building were a pendulum, swinging back and forth with a slow, deliberate rhythm.
I told myself it was wind. Or maybe a fault in the building’s foundation. But I’d read about the Aetheria Tower before I got the job. It was supposed to be the tallest structure in the city, a symbol of progress, a marvel of engineering. But I’d also read about the rumors: the whispers of strange vibrations, the reports of people fainting mid-conversation, the unexplained collapses in the lower floors.
I didn’t believe them. Or did I?
The swaying got worse as the day progressed. By mid-afternoon, the building was moving so violently that the floor beneath me felt like it was vibrating with a life of its own. I’d been assigned to a lab on the 21st floor, studying the structural integrity of high-rise buildings under extreme stress. It was supposed to be a simple assignment—monitoring strain gauges, analyzing data from sensors embedded in the foundation. But today, the data was useless. The sensors were offline. The building wasn’t just swaying—it was shuddering.
I stood at the edge of the lab’s observation deck, staring out at the city below. The skyline was a jagged silhouette of glass and steel, but now it looked like a broken puzzle piece, every building warped by the tower’s movement. I could see the reflections of the swaying structure in the windows of the buildings below, as if the entire city were trapped in a dream.
Then I saw it.
A window on the 21st floor. Not just any window—it was the one directly across from me, framed by the same glass幕墙 that had been so perfect just hours ago. But now, the glass was cracking. Not in a normal way—*it was splitting like a spiderweb, with jagged lines radiating outward from a central point. The cracks weren’t straight; they were curved, as if something had been pulling at the glass from the inside.
I stepped back, my breath catching in my throat. The building’s swaying had intensified. The floor beneath me felt like it was tilting, and I could hear the faint crackling of metal bending under pressure. The air smelled metallic, like burnt plastic and ozone.
“Diana!” a voice called out from the lab. It was Dr. Voss, my supervisor. She was standing at the edge of the observation deck, her face pale, her hands gripping the railing as if she were trying to hold herself upright. “What’s happening?”
I didn’t answer. I couldn’t. My eyes were locked on the window. The cracks were spreading faster now, and I could see faint glows where the glass had broken. Not light—something else. A faint, sickly green hue that seemed to pulse in time with the building’s swaying.
“Get back!” I shouted, but she didn’t move. Her eyes were wide, her face a mask of fear.
The building shuddered again, and the window exploded.
It wasn’t an explosion in the traditional sense. It was more like a burst, a violent rupture that sent shards of glass flying in all directions. I saw one of them hit the railing, shattering into a thousand pieces. The sound was deafening—a high-pitched screech that echoed through the tower like a scream.
Then came the smell.
It wasn’t just the metallic tang of burning glass. It was something worse. A rottenness, like the stench of decayed flesh and rusted metal. The air thickened, and I could feel it in my lungs, a choking sensation that made my vision blur.
Dr. Voss stumbled back, her face contorted in horror. “What the hell is that?” she gasped, her voice barely audible over the roar of the wind.
I didn’t know what to say. I couldn’t. My mind was racing, trying to make sense of what had just happened. The window had been part of the building’s structure—how could it have exploded like that? The glass had been intact just moments ago.
Then I saw it.
A shadow. Not a shadow in the traditional sense, but something else—a presence that seemed to be pulling at the edges of the window, as if it were trying to tear the glass apart from the inside. It was shapeless, but it had form—a humanoid shape, elongated and distorted, its features blurred like smoke.
The building swayed again, and the shadow moved. It reached toward the window, its elongated fingers clawing at the broken glass as if trying to pull something through.
I took a step back, my heart pounding in my chest. The air was thick with a low, resonant hum, like the sound of a thousand voices whispering in unison.
“Diana!” Dr. Voss’s voice was sharp, urgent. “What is that thing? What are you seeing?”
I didn’t answer. I couldn’t. My mind was screaming, trying to make sense of what had just happened. The building was alive, and it was hunting something—something inside.
The shadow moved again, and this time, I saw it clearly. It wasn’t just a shadow—it was a being, a thing that had been inside the window, trying to escape.
The building swayed one last time, and the shadow vanished.
Then came the silence.
It was so loud when the building moved, but now it was quiet. Too quiet. The air felt heavier, as if the building itself were holding its breath. I turned back to Dr. Voss, but she was gone.
I was alone.
The building had stopped swaying, but the feeling of it still lingered in my bones, a vibration that made my teeth ache. The window was gone, replaced by a gaping hole in the glass幕墙, and I could see the city below through the broken pane. It looked wrong. The buildings were tilted, their reflections warped, as if the entire world had been distorted by something unseen.
I stepped closer to the edge of the observation deck, my hands trembling. The air smelled worse now, like wet rot and burning oil. I could feel the building’s foundation beneath me, shifting, as if it were alive and trying to move.
Then I heard it.
A sound—not a sound, but a presence. A low, resonant hum that seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at once. It was like the building itself was singing, a song of warning and fear.
I turned back to the hole in the glass, my eyes locked on the darkness beyond. Something was there. Something that had been inside the window, something that had been trying to escape.
And I knew, with absolute certainty, that it wasn’t going to let me go.