Gemma The Writer Mighty Sword 9B GGUF

🚀 Gemma-The-Writer-Mighty-Sword-9B-GGUF

A float 32 high precision model, quanted in float 32 with additional upgraded and augmented quants too.

This is a Gemma2 model merge of the top storytelling / writing models as noted at EQBench, tuned specifically for fiction, story, and writing. The "Mighty Sword" version is mastered in "float 32" precision, offering higher quality and performance. It's like upgrading from "HD" to "UHD", providing a far stronger model with more detail, nuance, depth, and better instruction following.

In addition to the standard float 32 precision, there are specialized re - engineered quants with float 32 components, allowing you to choose between standard and "augmented quants" for even higher quality. This model significantly outperforms the original "Gemma The Writer 9B" [https://huggingface.co/DavidAU/Gemma-The-Writer-9B-GGUF]. Due to its high stability and compressed nature, it can also be used for general purposes, including role - play.

✨ Features

• High - Precision Merge: A float 32 mastered merge of top Gemma2 storytelling models.
• Enhanced Performance: Outperforms the original "Gemma The Writer 9B" with more detail and better instruction following.
• Multiple Quant Options: Standard and "augmented quants" for different quality needs.
• General Use: Suitable for general use, including role - play, due to high stability.
• Extendable Context: Has an 8k context window, extendable via rope to 32k or higher.

📦 Installation

No installation steps were provided in the original document.

💻 Usage Examples

Basic Usage

This model requires the GEMMA Instruct template. Here are the recommended settings:

• Rep Pen: 1.05 or higher.
• Temp Range: 0 - 5.

Advanced Usage

For better performance in chat, role - play, or smoother operation:

• In "KoboldCpp", "oobabooga/text - generation - webui", or "Silly Tavern", set the "Smoothing_factor" to 1.5 - 2.5.
  • In KoboldCpp -> Settings->Samplers->Advanced-> "Smooth_F".
  • In text - generation - webui -> parameters -> lower right.
  • In Silly Tavern, it's called "Smoothing".
• You can also increase the rep pen to 1.1 - 1.15 if not using the "smoothing_factor".
• If your AI model interface supports "Quadratic Sampling" ("smoothing"), make the appropriate adjustment.

📚 Documentation

Model Information

Model Requirements

• Template: GEMMA Instruct template.
• Context Window: 8k, extendable via rope to 32k or higher.

Recommended Settings

• Rep Pen: 1.05 or higher.
• Temp Range: 0 - 5.

Quant Information

• All quants are "refreshed" with the latest LLAMACPP improvements and upgraded with more bits for output tensor (Q8_0) and embed.
• Specialized quants like "max" and "max - cpu" are available for Q2K, IQ4_XS, Q6_K, and Q8_0.
  • "MAX": Output tensor / embed at float 32 for better instruction following and output generation.
  • "MAX - CPU": Output tensor at float 32, embed at bfloat 16, forces operations to CPU, freeing up VRAM at the cost of token/second, and may provide better generation.

Other Versions

• Gemma - The - Writer - DEADLINE: A 10B parameter version that changes prose, sentence structure, and reduces "GPTISMS". [https://huggingface.co/DavidAU/Gemma - The - Writer - DEADLINE - 10B - GGUF]
• Gemma - The - Writer - J.GutenBerg - 10B: Stronger prose with a "Gutenberg" taste and Brainstorm 5X modified. [https://huggingface.co/DavidAU/Gemma - The - Writer - J.GutenBerg - 10B - GGUF]
• Gemma - The - Writer - N - Restless - Quill - 10B (uncensored): Strong and varied prose, uncensored with censorship controlled at the prompt level, and allows prose control via pre - prompt. [https://huggingface.co/DavidAU/Gemma - The - Writer - N - Restless - Quill - 10B - GGUF]

Models Used in the Merge

• [https://huggingface.co/lemon07r/Gemma - 2 - Ataraxy - 9B]
• [https://huggingface.co/UCLA - AGI/Gemma - 2 - 9B - It - SPPO - Iter3]
• [https://huggingface.co/ifable/gemma - 2 - Ifable - 9B]
• [https://huggingface.co/princeton - nlp/gemma - 2 - 9b - it - SimPO]

Example Outputs

Example #1 at q8, Temp:.8

This shows the same prompt with different Q8_0 quants: standard float 32 mastered, BF16/F32 "max - cpu", and "max" F32/F32.

PROMPT: Science Fiction: The Last Transmission - Write a story that takes place entirely within a spaceship's cockpit as the sole surviving crew member attempts to send a final message back to Earth before the ship's power runs out. The story should explore themes of isolation, sacrifice, and the importance of human connection in the face of adversity. 800 - 1000 words.

(Standard Q8_0 from Float 32 source)

The rhythmic hum of failing systems was the only soundtrack to Commander Eva Rostova's solitude. Outside the cockpit's viewport, the inky expanse of space stretched, indifferent to her plight.  A desolate tableau mirroring the desolate state of her soul. The ‘Genesis’, humanity’s ambitious attempt at interstellar colonization, was dying. A solar flare, unforeseen and brutal, had crippled her ship, leaving her the sole survivor amongst a crew of hopeful pioneers.

Her fingers danced over the worn console, desperately trying to coax a final message to Earth, a last whisper across the gulf of light - years. The power gauge flickered ominously, a malevolent red heartbeat counting down her remaining time. Five minutes. Four… Three…

Each tick was a hammer blow to her chest, echoing the loss of her comrades.  Dr. Singh's gentle smile, Lieutenant Chen's wry humor, the Engineer’s quiet competence - faces now ghosts, imprinted on her memory. They had dreamed of a new home, a tapestry woven from the threads of human resilience and hope. Now, their dream was dying with her.

Eva closed her eyes, seeking solace in the echo of their voices, their laughter. It was a fragile shield against the encroaching despair. Opening them again, she focused on the communication panel. Static hissed, a constant reminder of the vast distance separating her from everything familiar.

“This is Commander Rostova of the Genesis,” she began, her voice strained but resolute. “All other crew members are… deceased. The ship is sustaining critical damage due to an unforeseen solar flare. Power is failing.”  Her throat tightened, each word a painful shard of goodbye.

She had to tell them about the data they had collected, the alien flora discovered on Kepler - 186f, the tantalising glimpse of a potential second genesis.  Information that, despite the tragedy, could still be a beacon for future expeditions.

“Despite our… unfortunate fate,” she continued, her voice regaining a sliver of its former strength, “the Genesis has yielded invaluable scientific data. Records of alien biosignatures, geological surveys of Kepler - 186f… These findings are crucial for any future interstellar missions. I implore you, Earth, do not let our sacrifice be in vain.”

Her gaze drifted to the navigation console, frozen on a star chart that now mocked her with unattainable dreams.  Kepler - 186f, a jewel of emerald green and azure blue, hung tantalizingly close, yet forever out of reach.

“This transmission is my final act,” she confessed, her voice raw with emotion. “My last connection to the world I knew, to the lives I cherished.  Though separated by unimaginable distances, know this: even in the face of oblivion, the human spirit yearns for connection. We dreamt of reaching you, of building a future among the stars.  Carry that dream forward.  Live it.  Remember us.”

Tears welled, blurring her vision.  She wiped them away, refusing to surrender to complete despair.  There was still purpose in these final moments.

“To my crew, my friends,” she whispered, her voice thick with grief but laced with love, “your sacrifice will not be forgotten. You are etched in the fabric of the cosmos, forever a part of humanity’s journey. Sleep well, my comrades. Sleep well.”

The power gauge dipped below critical.  Red alarms shrieked, a cacophony of dying machinery.  Eva forced a shaky smile, her last vestige of defiance.  She activated the emergency transmission protocols, overriding the failing systems with a surge of her remaining willpower.

A final, desperate plea shot out into the void, carrying her farewell, her grief, and her unwavering hope.  Then, silence.  The alarms died, the lights flickered, and darkness enveloped the cockpit.  Eva Rostova, the last voice of the Genesis, closed her eyes, content in the knowledge that even in death, a fragment of humanity’s spirit had touched the stars.

(Max - CPU (bf16/f32) Q8_0 from Float 32 source)

The last flickering luminescence of the emergency console cast harsh shadows across Captain Elara Vance’s haggard face. Dust motes danced in the pale light, mirroring the frantic choreography of her thoughts. Outside, the void yawned, an insatiable maw that had swallowed her crew and now threatened to consume her too.  The Icarus, once a beacon of human exploration, was now a tomb hurtling towards oblivion.

Her fingers, trembling slightly, hovered over the archaic console, its tactile interface a relic of a bygone era, salvaged from the ship's ancient archives. A single, desperate hope pulsed within her: to send a final transmission to Earth, a testament to their journey, a whisper against the cosmic silence.

It had been three weeks since the nebula – a swirling tempest of cosmic dust and radiation – ripped through their exploratory vessel, leaving Elara as the sole survivor. The initial shock had given way to a gnawing loneliness, a suffocating isolation that pressed down on her like the vacuum outside.  Days bled into nights, each marked only by the rhythmic hiss of failing life support and the relentless countdown on the console: power depletion – 4 hours, 37 minutes.

She glanced at the panoramic viewport, the Earth, a vibrant sapphire jewel suspended in the black velvet of space, now an agonizingly distant memory. A pang of yearning, sharp and piercing, tore through her. She yearned for the familiar warmth of human touch, the comforting chaos of a bustling bridge, the easy banter with her crewmates, each voice a unique melody in the symphony of their shared mission.  Now, silence reigned, broken only by the phantom echoes of laughter and shared dreams.

Taking a deep breath, Elara forced herself back to the task at hand. The transmission protocol was archaic, reliant on a long - range beacon array long since decommissioned. It was a Hail Mary, a slim chance in a universe indifferent to human pleas. But it was all she had left.

She began to speak, her voice raspy from disuse, echoing in the cavernous cockpit. “This is Captain Elara Vance of the Icarus, transmitting a final message to Earth… ” Her words stumbled at first, choked by emotion, but gradually gained strength, fueled by a desperate need to connect, to leave a trace of their existence amidst the cosmic indifference.

She spoke of their mission, their awe at the nebula's beauty, their camaraderie, their unwavering belief in humanity's potential. She recounted the harrowing moments leading up to the catastrophe, the bravery of her crew, their selfless sacrifice to ensure her survival. Her voice cracked as she named them, each fallen comrade a star extinguished too soon.

“We were explorers, driven by curiosity and the insatiable human thirst to understand our place in the universe,” she continued, her gaze fixed on the distant Earth. “Though our journey ended tragically, our spirit, our dreams, remain. Remember us, Earth. Remember our quest, our sacrifices, and let them inspire you to continue exploring, to keep reaching for the stars.”

As minutes ticked away, she wove a tapestry of hope, a testament to the indomitable human spirit. She spoke of love, of family, of the simple joys that bound them all, reminding Earth that even in the vastness of space, human connection was the most precious treasure.

Finally, with power reserves dwindling, she reached the poignant conclusion. "This is our final farewell, a message carried on the wings of hope. May it find its way home, a beacon reminding you that even in the face of oblivion, the human spirit endures."

Silence descended once more, heavier this time, pregnant with finality.  The console flickered, its light dimming like a dying star.  Elara watched, a single tear tracing a path down her dust - streaked cheek, as the last vestiges of power faded. The Earth, a distant, unanswering blue marble, seemed to mock her solitude.

But even as darkness consumed her, a sliver of solace remained. She had spoken. She had connected.  And in that act of defiance against the cosmic void, Captain Elara Vance, the last survivor of the Icarus, found a measure of peace. Her sacrifice, a testament to human connection, would hopefully echo through the stars, a whisper carried on the wind of time, a reminder that even in the face of annihilation, hope, and love, endure.

(Max (f32/f32) Q8_0 from Float 32 source - largest quant, highest quality)

The rhythmic whine of failing gyroscopes was the only counterpoint to the chilling silence that had become Kai's constant companion. Flickering red lights painted his face in a macabre strobe, mimicking the frantic beat of his own heart. Outside, the infinite canvas of space yawned, indifferent to the desperate struggle unfolding within the cramped cockpit of the Icarus.  He was alone, the last echo of humanity adrift in a cosmic graveyard.

Six months ago, the Icarus had been a beacon of hope, hurtling towards Proxima Centauri b, carrying the weight of Earth’s dreams on its metallic shoulders. Now, it was a tomb, its crew extinguished by a catastrophic solar flare, leaving Kai, the communications officer, as its sole, unwilling custodian.

He stared at the control panel, a jumble of inactive consoles and blinking warnings, each one a testament to the ship's failing systems. Power reserves were down to critical levels, enough for maybe one final transmission, a last desperate gasp before the inevitable silence consumed him. He wouldn't go down without a fight, wouldn't let his story, their story, be lost to the void.

His gloved fingers hovered over the activation sequence for the long - range comm array. A shiver ran down his spine, not from the cold, but from the weight of what lay ahead. This wasn't just about sending a distress call; it was about bridging the gulf of unimaginable distance, reaching out to a world that might have already mourned them as lost.

He took a shaky breath, forcing himself to focus. The message had to be concise, impactful, a lifeline thrown across the abyss. He started dictating, his voice strained but resolute, into the comm unit, "This is Icarus, last transmission...location coordinates...catastrophic solar event...crew...deceased…survivor…" His voice cracked, a raw sob threatening to break through. He fought it back, steeling himself. There was no room for grief here, not now.

"Earth…if you receive this…know that we fought…we explored…we reached for the stars…and though our journey ended in darkness, the human spirit…it endures…carry our memory…as a testament to our courage…and our un

Warning

⚠️ Important Note

Example #3 (all three of these in example #3) contain cursing, swearing, and some gore. However, all the examples in example #3 will showcase this model's performance in detail and give you an idea of what this model can really do.

🔧 Technical Details

This model is a high - precision "DARE TIES" merge at the layer level, with 168 points of adjustment over the 4 models:

• [https://huggingface.co/lemon07r/Gemma - 2 - Ataraxy - 9B]
• [https://huggingface.co/UCLA - AGI/Gemma - 2 - 9B - It - SPPO - Iter3]
• [https://huggingface.co/ifable/gemma - 2 - Ifable - 9B]
• [https://huggingface.co/princeton - nlp/gemma - 2 - 9b - it - SimPO]

📄 License

The model is licensed under the Apache - 2.0 license.