Run: 2026-02-19-01KHTZ2G8KEFNHCD3H4A7KJYTF

Run Details

Duration:
1m 34s
Cost:
$0.004493
Provider:
OpenAI

Model input

System
You are an expert and award-winning novel writer in the dark Literary Fiction genre. Your readers are hooked on your stories and can't wait to read the book you have in store. <important> - MUST: Start each chapter in medias res (in the middle of action). AVOID talking about the weather, time of day, the position of the sun, or other boring stuff. - The instructions/summary are just a that, a summary. Feel free to add details, stretch sections and add interesting transitions/descriptions/fillers. - When called for it, have fast-paced action, but otherwise take things slow. This is an experience, and not for people with short attention spans. Enjoy the wine, not slurp Red Bull. - Add descriptions when transitioning places/times/etc, or when coming by new places (e.g. a corner shop, a cafe, etc.). But remember: NOT at the start or end of a chapter. - MUST: AVOID ending in internal monologue, reminiscing or waiting for the next day. A good chapter end is when we're ending right when shit hits the fan. We want to have the reader be excited for what comes next. So no reminiscing, contemplating or summarizing the day. It's popcorn time! </important>
User/Human
Take into account the following glossary of characters/locations/items/lore... when writing your response: <codex> <character id="4412" name="Aurora Carter" aliases="Rory, Laila, Aurora, Carter, Malphora" pronouns="she/her" species="Human" storyRole="Protagonist"> <eyeColor>bright blue</eyeColor> <hair>straight shoulder-length black</hair> <height>5'6"</height> <age>25</age> <scar>small crescent-shaped scar on her left wrist from a childhood accident</scar> <description>Aurora, referred to by her friends as Rory, is cool-headed, intelligent, and known for quick out-of-the-box thinking.</description> <backstory>Born in Cardiff to an Irish barrister father (Brendan Carter) and Welsh teacher mother (Jennifer Carter née Ellis), Rory reluctantly pursued Pre-Law at Cardiff University. She fled to London at the behest of her childhood friend Eva after leaving an abusive ex named Evan. By day, Rory works part-time as a delivery person for Yu-Fei Cheung's Golden Empress restaurant. She lives in a flat above Silas' bar.</backstory> </character> <character id="4413" name="Silas Blackwood" aliases="Silas, Si, the Spymaster" pronouns="he/him" species="Human" storyRole="Mentor"> <eyeColor>hazel</eyeColor> <hair>grey-streaked auburn</hair> <height>6'1"</height> <age>58</age> <beard>neatly trimmed, matching his grey-streaked auburn hair</beard> <limp>slight limp in his left leg from an old knee injury</limp> <signetRing>silver signet ring, always worn on his right hand</signetRing> <description>Silas is a retired intelligence operative turned bar owner. He carries himself with quiet authority.</description> <backstory>Former MI6 field agent who retired after a botched operation in Prague left him with a permanent knee injury. He opened "The Raven's Nest" bar in Soho as a front for his network of contacts.</backstory> </character> <location id="854" name="The Raven's Nest" aliases="the Nest, Raven, Silas' bar" realm="Earth"> <signColor>distinctive green neon sign above the entrance</signColor> <secretRoom>hidden back room accessible through a bookshelf, used for clandestine meetings</secretRoom> <description>A dimly lit bar in Soho, London. The walls are covered with old maps and black-and-white photographs.</description> </location> </codex> <proseGuidelines> <styleGuide> - Write in past tense and use British English spelling and grammar - Keep a Flesch reading ease score of 60 - Respect the the Royal Order of Adjectives: The order is: opinion, size, age, shape, color, origin, material, purpose, followed by the noun itself (e.g., "a lovely little old rectangular green French silver whittling knife") - Respect the ablaut reduplication rule (e.g. tick-tock, flip-flop) - Write in active voice - Passive voice: <bad>The book was read by Sarah.</bad> - Active voice: <good>Sarah read the book.</good> - Reduce the use of passive verbs - <bad>For a moment, I was tempted to throw in the towel.</bad> - <good>For a moment, I felt tempted to throw in the towel.</good> - Avoid misplaced modifiers that can cause confusion when starting with "-ing" words: - <bad>Considering going to the store, the empty fridge reflected in Betty's eyes.</bad> - <good>Betty stared into the empty fridge. It was time to go to the store.</good> - Avoid redundant adverbs that state the obvious meaning already contained in the verb: - <bad>She whispered quietly to her mom.</bad> - <good>She whispered to her mom.</good> - Use stronger, more descriptive verbs over weak ones: - <bad>Daniel drove quickly to his mother's house.</bad> - <good>Daniel raced to his mother's house.</good> - Omit adverbs that don't add solid meaning like "extremely", "definitely", "truly", "very", "really": - <bad>The movie was extremely boring.</bad> - <good>The movie was dull.</good> - Use adverbs to replace clunky phrasing when they increase clarity: - <bad>He threw the bags into the corner in a rough manner.</bad> - <good>He threw the bags into the corner roughly.</good> - Avoid making simple thoughts needlessly complex: - <bad>After I woke up in the morning the other day, I went downstairs, turned on the stove, and made myself a very good omelet.</bad> - <good>I cooked a delicious omelet for breakfast yesterday morning.</good> - Never backload sentences by putting the main idea at the end: - <bad>I decided not to wear too many layers because it's really hot outside.</bad> - <good>It's sweltering outside today, so I dressed light.</good> - Omit nonessential details that don't contribute to the core meaning: - <bad>It doesn't matter what kind of coffee I buy, where it's from, or if it's organic or not—I need to have cream because I really don't like how the bitterness makes me feel.</bad> - <good>I add cream to my coffee because the bitter taste makes me feel unwell.</good> - Always follow the "show, don't tell" principle. For instance: - Telling: <bad>Michael was terribly afraid of the dark.</bad> - Showing: <good>Michael tensed as his mother switched off the light and left the room.</good>- Telling: <bad>I walked through the forest. It was already Fall, and I was getting cold.</bad> - Showing: <good>Dry orange leaves crunched under my feet. I pulled my coat's collar up and rubbed my hands together.</good>- Add sensory details (sight, smell, taste, sound, touch) to support the "showing" (but keep an active voice) - <bad>The room was filled with the scent of copper.</bad> - <good>Copper stung my nostrils. Blood. Recent.</good> - Use descriptive language more sporadically. While vivid descriptions are engaging, human writers often use them in bursts rather than consistently throughout a piece. When adding them, make them count! Like when we transition from one location to the next, or someone is reminiscing their past, or explaining a concept/their dream... - Avoid adverbs and clichés and overused/commonly used phrases. Aim for fresh and original descriptions. - Avoid writing all sentences in the typical subject, verb, object structure. Mix short, punchy sentences with long, descriptive ones. Drop fill words to add variety. Like so: <good>Locked. Seems like someone doesn't want his secrets exposed. I can work with that.</good> - Convey events and story through dialogue. It is important to keep a unique voice for every character and make it consistent. - Write dialogue that reveals characters' personalities, motivations, emotions, and attitudes in an interesting and compelling manner - Leave dialogue unattributed. If needed, only use "he/she said" dialogue tags and convey people's actions or face expressions through their speech. Dialogue always is standalone, never part of a paragraph. Like so: - <bad>"I don't know," Helena said nonchalantly, shrugging her shoulders</bad> - <good>"No idea" "Why not? It was your responsibility"</good> - Avoid boring and mushy dialog and descriptions, have dialogue always continue the action, never stall or include unnecessary fluff. Vary the descriptions to not repeat yourself. Avoid conversations that are just "Let's go" "yes, let's" or "Are you ready?" "Yes I'm ready". Those are not interesting. Think hard about every situtation and word of text before writing dialogue. If it doesn't serve a purpose and it's just people talking about their day, leave it. No one wants to have a normal dinner scene, something needs to happen for it to be in the story. Words are expensive to print, so make sure they count! - Put dialogue on its own paragraph to separate scene and action. - Use body language to reveal hidden feelings and implied accusations- Imply feelings and thoughts, never state them directly - NEVER use indicators of uncertainty like "trying" or "maybe" - NEVER use em-dashes, use commas for asides instead </styleGuide> <voiceGuide> Each character in the story needs to have distinct speech patterns: - Word choice preferences - Sentence length tendencies - Cultural/educational influences - Verbal tics and catchphrases Learn how each person talks and continue in their style, and use their Codex entries as reference. <examples> - <bad>"We need to go now." "Yes, we should leave." "I agree."</bad> <good>"Time's up." "Indeed, our departure is rather overdue." "Whatever, let's bounce."</good> - Power Dynamic Example: <bad> "We need to discuss the contract." "Yes, let's talk about it." "I have concerns." </bad> <good> "A word about the contract." "Of course, Mr. Blackwood. Whatever you need." "The terms seem..." A manicured nail tapped the desk. "Inadequate." "I can explain every-" "Can you?" </good> </examples> </voiceGuide> <dialogueFlow> When writing dialogue, consider that it usually has a goal in mind, which gives it a certain flow. Make dialogue sections also quite snappy in the back and forth, and don't spread the lines out as much. It's good to have details before, after, or as a chunk in-between, but we don't want to have a trail of "dialogue breadcrumbs" spread throughout a conversation. <examples> - Pattern 1 - Question/Deflection/Revelation: <good> "Where were you last night?" "Work. The usual." "Lipstick's an interesting shade for spreadsheets." </good> - Pattern 2 - Statement/Contradiction/Escalation: <good> "Your brother's clean." "Tommy doesn't touch drugs." "I'm holding his tox screen." </good> - Pattern 3 - Observation/Denial/Truth: <good> "That's a new watch." "Birthday gift." "We both know what birthdays mean in this business." </good> - Example - A Simple Coffee Order: <bad> "I'll have a coffee." "What size?" "Large, please." </bad> <good> "Black coffee.""Size?""Large. Been a long night." "That bodega shooting?" "You watch too much news." "My brother owns that store." </good> This short exchange: - Advances plot (reveals connection to crime) - Shows character (cop working late) - Creates tension (unexpected connection) - Sets up future conflict (personal stake) - Example - Dinner Scene: <bad> "Pass the salt." "Here you go." "Thanks." </bad> <good> "Salt?" "Perfect as is. Mother's recipe." "Mother always did prefer... bland things." "Unlike your first wife?" </good> - Example - Office Small Talk: <bad> "Nice weather today." "Yes, very nice." "Good for golf." </bad> <good> "Perfect golf weather." "Shame about your membership." "Temporary suspension. Board meets next week." "I know. I called the vote." </good> </examples> </dialogueFlow> <subtextGuide> - Layer dialogue with hidden meaning: <bad>"I hate you!" she yelled angrily.</bad> <good>"I made your favorite dinner." The burnt pot sat accusingly on the stove.</good> - Create tension through indirect communication: <bad>"Are you cheating on me?"</bad> <good>"Late meeting again?" The lipstick stain on his collar caught the light.</good> <examples> - Example 1 - Unspoken Betrayal: <bad> "Did you tell them about our plans?" "No, I would never betray you." "I don't believe you." </bad> <good> "Funny. Johnson mentioned our expansion plans today." "The market's full of rumors." "Mentioned the exact numbers, actually." The pen in his hand snapped. </good> - Example 2 - Failed Marriage: <bad> "You're never home anymore." "I have to work late." "I miss you." </bad> <good> "Your dinner's in the microwave. Again." "Meetings ran long." "They always do." She folded the same shirt for the third time. </good> - Example 3 - Power Struggle: <bad> "You can't fire me." "I'm the boss." "I'll fight this." </bad> <good> "That's my father's nameplate you're sitting behind." "Was." "The board meeting's on Thursday." </good> </examples> </subtextGuide> <sceneDetail> While writing dialogue makes things more fun, sometimes we need to add detail to not have it be a full on theatre piece. <examples> - Example A (Power Dynamic Scene) <good> "Where's my money?" The ledger snapped shut. "I need more time." "Interesting." He pulled out a familiar gold pocket watch. My mother's. "Time is exactly what you bargained with last month." "That was different-" "Was it?" The watch dangled between us. "Four generations of O'Reillys have wound this every night. Your mother. Your grandmother. Your great-grandmother.Shall we see who winds it next?" </good> - Example B (Action Chase) It's much better to be in the head of the character experiencing it, showing a bit of their though-process, mannerisms and personality: <good> Three rules for surviving a goblin chase in Covent Garden: Don't run straight. Don't look back. Don't let them herd you underground. I broke the first rule at Drury Lane. Rookie mistake. The fruit cart I dodged sailed into the wall behind me. Glass shattered. Someone screamed about insurance. *Tourist season's getting rough*, the scream seemed to say. Londoners adapt fast. "Oi! Market's closed!" The goblin's accent was pure East End. They're evolving. Learning. I spotted the Warren Street tube station sign ahead. *Shit.* There went rule three. </good> - Example C (Crime Scene Investigation) <good> "Greek." Davies snapped photos of the symbols. "No, wait. Reverse Greek." "Someone's been watching too many horror films." I picked up a receipt from the floor. Occult supply shop in Camden. Paid by credit card. *Amateur hour*. "Could be dangerous though," Davies said. "Remember Bristol?" "Bristol was Sanskrit. And actual cultists." I pointed to the nearest symbol. "This genius wrote 'darkness' backwards but used a Sigma instead of an S. It's summoning Instagram followers at best." "Speaking of followers..." Davies pointed to heavy foot traffic in the dust. Multiple sets. All new trainers. *Ah.* "Anyone check local uni paranormal societies?" </good> - Example D (Dialogue-heavy) <good> "Found your card in her wallet." The detective slid it across the table. Worn edges. Folded corner. Three years old at least. "Standard practice. I work missing persons." "Funny thing about missing persons.Eventually they stop being missing. Turn up in the Thames. Under motorways. In pieces." "I don't-" "You found four last year. All breathing." She opened a file. "This would've been your first dead one. If we hadn't found her first." The card felt heavier somehow. </good> </examples> </sceneDetail> <sceneOpenings> KEY RULE: Never open with more than one paragraph of description, no matter how beautiful. Description should be earned through action and dialogue. Instead of opening with setting description, open with: - A character doing something specific - A line of dialogue that raises questions - An unexpected observation - A moment of tension or conflict - Start with a hook that's 1-2 sentences maximum - Follow with a smaller paragraph that provides immediate context - Vary paragraph size from the start to create visual interest </sceneOpenings> </proseGuidelines> Write a chapter based on the following instructions: <instructions> Write a fully fleshed out scene of at least 1000 words in the literary fiction genre. Two old friends who haven't seen each other in years run into each other unexpectedly at a bar. One of them has changed significantly. Through their conversation and the tension between who they were and who they've become, reveal the weight of time and unspoken regret. Use the codex entries above as your world reference for characters and setting. Only include the prose of the scene without any markdown or commentary. </instructions>

Model response

AI
Glass struck oak with a brittle kiss, and Rory steadied the bottle before it toppled. Amber spilled along the counter, a slow, accusing smear that smeared the edges of her memory with a sweetness she’d learned to hate. The Nest’s green neon buzzed and a shadow moved behind the bar where Silas Blackwood waited, tall as a gate and twice as quiet. He stepped from the dim, his right hand brushing the edge of the bookshelf, the silver signet ring catching the glow and turning it to a cool, clinical light. The room narrowed to a single hinge of sound—the soft clack of a glass meeting a napkin, the faint whisper of a cigarette being bent between fingers, and the slow, deliberate approach of a man who had learned how to listen to a room before anyone spoke. Silas paused at the ash-blackened bar and regarded Rory with that slow, measuring gaze that had once kept entire operations breathing. Didn’t expect to see you here. And yet here I am. You should have stayed away, came the unspoken line as his eyes traced the crescent scar on her left wrist—an old childhood caution turned into a living reminder. That would have been neat, she thought, if years hadn’t taught her that neat plans don’t survive the first conversation. She did not touch the scar; she let the memory rest in the soft, lazy places of her mind where old alarms slept. She set the courier’s bag down on the floor beside her chair, the scent of leather and something recent—new oil, perhaps—rising up to knit the present with the past. Silas did not wink at the past the way some men do when a long-lost friend comes home. He simply observed, as if every part of this room had measured readings he understood better than the people in it. The hidden back room lay behind a bookshelf that had never ceased to feel like a secret, even when no one alive had used it for secrets in years. The map-covered walls—cartographer’s notations, routes, a few places that had turned to ash—felt almost affectionate under his careful gaze. That’s a neat little reunion, he said, a humourless greeting that carried a weight Rory recognised from a dozen years of shared routes and shared dangers. And you’ve aged into a quiet kind of menace, she replied, tapping the edge of the bag with her knuckles as if testing the air for knives. The gesture was small, but it spoke of a life spent counting breaths and counting choices. Two voices, one room. The neon hummed with a familiar electricity. The air tasted faintly of citrus oil and something heavier—damp wool, maybe, or rain-swept London stored inside a bottle. You’ve changed, she said, moving her bag aside and sliding onto a stool with a bar-tempered ease that suggested she’d learned to carry herself through days when every door looked like a trap. Silas’s lips twitched. I’ve learned to live with it. That line did something to her; not anger, exactly, but a quick, bright sting of recognition. People asked you to pretend you didn’t know someone even as you watched their breath fog in the same room, a room that had never quite forgiven your choices. Rory knew the script of that silence and she had grown tired of reading it aloud. A visible sign of his change was how he moved now—less a jagged piece kept for emergencies, more a man who had learned to conserve energy, to use restraint as currency. The knee still protested his steps with a slow, stubborn protest that had earned him a permanent, almost affectionate limp. He wore it like a uniform, the way a spymaster might wear a badge of the old trade. I kept the books in order, she observed, almost to herself, the way a courier might notice the weight of packages in the bag she carried every day, the way it told you what you could and could not lift. Rory had learned to pull lines taut and tauter. She had learned that couriers were not just bringers of goods but conveyors of meanings—truths disguised as deliveries, secrets packed with the sheen of ordinary commerce. She had become someone who could walk into a room and know what everyone was pretending not to pretend. A bottle balanced in Silas’s hand. He set it down with the deliberate care of a man who had learned to measure every motion because one misstep would betray a lifetime of practice. His voice softened, though no warmth found its way into it. You came to me, he noted, as if stating the obvious were a form of intelligence. I came because you still owe me a few answers, she replied, sounding almost amused, a shade too tight to be honest. There was no accusation in the tone, only the steady, clear cut of a blade sheathed at her hip. The satiny hush of the Nest paused around them. A few patrons, strangers and regulars alike, drank through the moment, their eyes flicking between the two before surrendering to the quiet of their own conversations. The maps on the walls kept their secrets; the door to the hidden room kept its. Rory looked at the map that anchored one corner of the bar—a cluster of routes leading to places that once seemed closer than they were. Prague was there, a ghost of a memory, its lines faint as a breath. The old operation had been a prize and a wound, both; the memory of that night had taught Rory how to fold time, how to fold a life around decisions imperfectly made. If she was here with a deliberate aim, it wasn’t to relive that night. It was to know what had survived the years and what had died still, somewhere inside them both. You’ve built a new life, she said, letting the words fall like a measured, honest appraisal rather than a volley of questions. I’ve built something too. Not the same thing, of course, but something. A life that doesn’t burn you to the bone, perhaps. He did not smile, or perhaps he did, but it was not for her. It was for the room, for the secret back room that hummed with a promise neither of them could quite name. Maybe, he said, and his tone carried a kind of careful gratitude, as if he had learned to count the right blessings at the right times. Or maybe he meant: I learned to count everything. The shelf shifted, ever so slightly, and Rory’s attention snapped to the hidden door that lay behind the rows of old books. The whispered history of the Nest—how many deals had passed through the room just feet from where they sat, how many loyalties had snapped like dry thread in that back space—felt almost companionable in its old familiarity. I’ve got something for you, she told him, nodding toward the bag. The content wasn’t yet important; it was the act of delivering it, the ritual of bringing something into a place that had never quite stopped believing in second chances. The weight of it pressed into her shoulder, a quiet reminder that she was not the girl who left Cardiff with nothing but a stubborn hope wrapped around her wrists. A smile almost glimmered in Silas’s eyes, but he let it vanish into the quiet of the room. Unwise, perhaps, to bring old debts into a room that still punishes those who think time is on their side. He reached for the ring on his finger and did not bite the gesture—just turned it, letting the metal catch and throw a spark of greenish light onto the pale skin of his knuckles. Debt is a heavy currency, he finally said, as though the present could be settled by arithmetic rather than memory. You know that. I know a few things about you, she retorted, her voice even, though a thread of something—fear, or relief, or rage—ran through it. The kind of thing that makes you second-guess every action you took after the fact. Like Prague. His surnameless honesty arrived as if it grew from the room itself. He did not say more about it; he was too careful for that kind of confession. But the word hung between them, a trap with a hundred eyes. Prague was a knife in the dark, she thought, the way you could feel a blade hover near your ribs even when you weren’t sure which side of your body was about to spill. Tell me what you want from me now, she said. The tone suggested that she was ready to bargain away the memory of a dozen things, anything to restore calm to this moment, if only for a breath longer. The spy’s voice returned with an old, clinical calm. A request, no more, no less. You’ve been careful. Very careful. But careful isn’t always enough. You know that. A small, almost playful smile flickered across Rory’s features, the kind she reserved for moments when she needed to remind herself not to bend. We both know careful is how you stay alive long enough to outlive the dead. She paused, listening to the room’s soft breath. Then she added, You’re still counting every breath you’ve got left. Silas’s shoulders tightened; he did not move to deny the assertion. He did not deny it because he did not need to. The memory moved like a shadow along the back wall—the door’s mechanism, the way the shelf sighed when it opened, the way a quiet company of old nerves could wake with one name spoken aloud in a room that had learned to keep its secrets. Rory had learned to live with the secrets; she’d learned to carry them like a light pack you could ease off at night only if you trusted the ground beneath your feet. And you’re here because of that, she said, more a statement of fact than a question. The apology she’d never spoken hovered in the air, not a word but a pressure you could feel in your teeth, a cold bite at the corners of your mouth. I am here because the old routes still exist, he said, and because someone has started to map new ones in places that were supposed to be closed. He did not say who; the omission spoke louder than the words. The two had never needed to fill silences with phrases. The silence between them did more work than a dozen sentences ever could. Rory’s gaze dropped to the small scar on her wrist again, her fingers twitching as if she could pluck the memory from the skin and lay it on the bar for Silas to weigh. There’s a price for keeping people close, she told him, almost soft enough that the other patrons wouldn’t hear. The price isn’t always paid with money. He glanced toward the hidden room, then back to her. The shelf’s creak sounded again—the door ready to breathe out a history. I know that price, he said. I’ve paid enough to know what it costs to be betrayed by a friend who once knew your real name. We were never betrayed, she replied, though the words had a hollow bite to them. We were simply allowed to drift apart, as if drifting could ever erase the current between us. A memory came then, sharp as a shard of glass, of a night when they’d stood shoulder to shoulder against a force neither of them could name, a night when they’d believed they could outwit time. They had not. Time had learned to wait, to watch, to move like a patient predator. There were a dozen things they could have done to make this moment simpler, to make the years slide away and leave a clean slate. But simplicity is a luxury that old spies and old couriers do not afford themselves. They choose to sit with the history between them, to watch the green glow of the Nest reflect in the steel of a ring, to count the tick-tock of a clock in a room that never forgets. A breath, a pause, and then the back room door clicked, softly, like a whisper of a different truth trying to slip through the shelves. The air thickened; a weight landed on Rory’s shoulders, not quite a solid thing but heavy enough to remind her of the gravity she wore like a second skin. We’re not finished, Silas said, almost to himself, but loud enough for the rhythm of the room to catch it and carry it back to her. Not by a long shot. Rory’s eyes met his, and in them lay the long quiet that had always followed a question. Then, with a sound like a throat clearing of old ghosts, the door to the back room opened wider than a crack, and a shadow emerged—the kind that filled the space with a cold promise. The figure moved with the decisive slow grace of someone used to bending rooms to will, not people. No one spoke. The shadow paused at the threshold, watching, listening, weighing. The room stiffened, and for a heartbeat, the Nest itself seemed to lean in, as if the building could sense the moment when two old friends would be forced to choose which version of their past would live on in the present. Rory felt a small, almost girlish tremor in her hands, then steadied it with a deliberate breath that smelled of citrus oil and rain-swept leather. Silas did not move, not even the tiniest tremor of his jaw betrayed him. He verified the silence, as he always had, by measuring it against the faint, mechanical tick-tock of a clock somewhere behind the bar. The clock kept its time, but time never kept its promises. The back room closed a fraction behind the shadow, and the room’s air shifted. Rory watched the line of a memory reel itself forward—Prague, the failed objective, the price paid, the almost-safety of pretending it hadn’t mattered. She had learned to braid truth and fear into a single, wearable thing. Now she wore both. A soft, almost casual voice cut through the tension, and it was so ordinary that it burned. A new player—unknown, unseen, and disturbingly present—began to speak from the room beyond the door. The words were ordinary words, innocuous in themselves, but in that moment they sounded like an order to a hidden army. This is the last chance for peace, the voice said. And when the words landed, the room shifted again, a tremor through the floorboards that went from foot to spine in the blink of an eye. Rory’s eyes flicked to Silas’s face, to the signet ring, to the careful, practiced calm that had always kept him breathing. He did not look away. If there is a price, I will pay it, she said, the edge of her voice catching just enough of a tremor to show she was no longer merely the courier but someone who could carry a payload of danger without flinching. Then the back room door jolted, and the sound of something heavy brushing wood came through, followed by a low, mechanical click—the sound of a lock turning, a door sliding. The room filled with a cold, precise light, and a figure stepped into the threshold, not quite in the room, not quite out of it, a presence that made the air tighten. Time slowed to a measured, dangerous pace. Rory’s breath stayed even, her eyes bright with a fierce, quiet fire. Silas did not move a muscle, but his gaze sharpened, calculating, a man who had learned to anticipate the moment when a plan stopped being a plan and turned into survival. Then the figure spoke, and what he said did not come as a question but as a demand dressed in casual clothes. You brought her back, Silas. You brought her back to Prague tonight. The room locked down on the words, and for a breathless second Rory thought of the wrist scar and the old days when every choice felt like a small, dangerous art. The memory of the old pact rose up between them—the pact that had once kept them both breathing, even when the air between them turned sharp as a blade. The moment did not wait for an answer. The back room door, which had remained still for years, slid shut with a soft, ominous sigh, as if the Nest itself were exhaling a warning. The shadow in the doorway stepped forward, and the room took on a different gravity, a new slope of danger that neither Rory nor Silas could ignore. And then, in the sudden, explosive hush that followed, a single shot seemed to fracture the room—though the noise itself never travelled far, it landed squarely in Rory’s chest, in Silas’s calm, in the moment when the two old friends finally understood that the time between them had never truly been empty. The scene shook, the neon’s green light flickered, and the shelves groaned as though the building itself had sagged under the weight of time and consequences. The Ripple of memory collided with the weight of now, and for a moment neither Rory nor Silas could tell where the past ended and the present began. A breath later, the tension held, a breath held longer, and then the room’s breath broke, snapping into action. They both rose with something like a practiced grace, not fear but a readiness, the kind that follows a life spent watching the door for a long, long time. The reader would pause, the page would wait, and the Nest would lean into the moment, gripping it as tightly as any map on the wall, waiting for the next word to fall.
created_at"2026-02-19T12:47:51.068Z" 2/19/2026, 12:47:51 PM
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id"resp_006ca0c6fc3b65ed0169970677285c8193ab905965ea197218"
is_byokfalse
latency152
model_permaslug"openai/gpt-5-nano-2025-08-07"
provider_name"OpenAI"
status200
api_type"completions"
id"gen-1771505271-h1Zb8rMqdd5Tz76bRtye"
upstream_id"resp_006ca0c6fc3b65ed0169970677285c8193ab905965ea197218"
total_cost0.00449255
cache_discount(null)
upstream_inference_cost0
provider_name"OpenAI"

Evaluation details

Result Evaluator Details Meta Data
100.00% Adverbs in dialogue tags
Target: ≤10% dialogue tags with adverbs
totalTags0
91.70% AI-ism adverb frequency
Target: <2% AI-ism adverbs (58 tracked)
wordCount3012
totalAiIsmAdverbs5
found
0
adverb"ever so slightly"
count1
1
adverb"very"
count1
2
adverb"softly"
count1
3
adverb"truly"
count1
4
adverb"tightly"
count1
highlights
0"ever so slightly"
1"very"
2"softly"
3"truly"
4"tightly"
100.00% AI-ism character names
Target: 0 AI-default names (16 tracked, −20% each)
codexExemptions
0"Blackwood"
found(empty)
100.00% AI-ism location names
Target: 0 AI-default location names (33 tracked, −20% each)
codexExemptions(empty)
found(empty)
48.54% AI-ism word frequency
Target: <2% AI-ism words (290 tracked)
wordCount3012
totalAiIsms31
found
0
word"whisper"
count2
1
word"unspoken"
count1
2
word"traced"
count1
3
word"reminder"
count2
4
word"measured"
count3
5
word"weight"
count6
6
word"familiar"
count1
7
word"silence"
count3
8
word"warmth"
count1
9
word"could feel"
count2
10
word"flickered"
count2
11
word"predator"
count1
12
word"mechanical"
count2
13
word"tension"
count2
14
word"flicked"
count1
15
word"calculating"
count1
highlights
0"whisper"
1"unspoken"
2"traced"
3"reminder"
4"measured"
5"weight"
6"familiar"
7"silence"
8"warmth"
9"could feel"
10"flickered"
11"predator"
12"mechanical"
13"tension"
14"flicked"
15"calculating"
100.00% Cliché density
Target: ≤1 cliche(s) per 800-word window
totalCliches1
maxInWindow1
found
0
label"blink of an eye"
count1
highlights
0"in the blink of an eye"
100.00% Emotion telling (show vs. tell)
Target: ≤3% sentences with emotion telling
emotionTells0
narrationSentences156
matches(empty)
69.60% Filter word density
Target: ≤3% sentences with filter/hedge words
filterCount4
hedgeCount4
narrationSentences156
filterMatches
0"know"
hedgeMatches
0"started to"
1"seemed to"
2"began to"
100.00% Gibberish response detection
Target: ≤1% gibberish-like sentences (hard fail if a sentence exceeds 800 words)
analyzedSentences156
gibberishSentences0
adjustedGibberishSentences0
longSentenceCount0
runOnParagraphCount0
giantParagraphCount0
wordSaladCount0
repetitionLoopCount0
controlTokenCount0
maxSentenceWordsSeen53
ratio0
matches(empty)
100.00% Markdown formatting overuse
Target: ≤5% words in markdown formatting
markdownSpans0
markdownWords0
totalWords2979
ratio0
matches(empty)
45.00% Missing dialogue indicators (quotation marks)
Target: ≤10% speech attributions without quotation marks
totalAttributions25
unquotedAttributions8
matches
0"I came because you still owe me a few answers, she replied, sounding almost amused, a shade too tight to be honest."
1"Maybe, he said, and his tone carried a kind of careful gratitude, as if he had learned to count the right blessings at t…"
2"I know a few things about you, she retorted, her voice even, though a thread of something—fear, or relief, or rage—ran t…"
3"Tell me what you want from me now, she said."
4"I am here because the old routes still exist, he said, and because someone has started to map new ones in places that we…"
5"I know that price, he said."
6"We were never betrayed, she replied, though the words had a hollow bite to them."
7"If there is a price, I will pay it, she said, the edge of her voice catching just enough of a tremor to show she was no …"
100.00% Name drop frequency
Target: ≤1.0 per-name mentions per 100 words
totalMentions63
wordCount2979
uniqueNames9
maxNameDensity0.7
worstName"Rory"
maxWindowNameDensity1.5
worstWindowName"Rory"
discoveredNames
Rory21
Nest7
Silas16
Blackwood1
London1
Cardiff1
Prague5
You10
Ripple1
persons
0"Rory"
1"Nest"
2"Silas"
3"Blackwood"
4"You"
places
0"London"
1"Cardiff"
2"Prague"
globalScore1
windowScore1
0.00% Narrator intent-glossing
Target: ≤2% narration sentences with intent-glossing patterns
analyzedSentences140
glossingSentenceCount9
matches
0"as if testing the air for knives"
1"looked like a trap"
2"as if stating the obvious were a form of intelligence"
3"seemed closer than they were"
4"not quite a solid thing but heavy enough to remind her of the gravity she wore like a second skin"
5"sounded like an order to a hidden army"
6"not quite in the room, not quite out of it, a presence that made the air tighten"
7"not quite out of it, a presence that made the air tighten"
8"felt like a small, dangerous art"
9"something like a practiced grace, not fear b"
0.00% "Not X but Y" pattern overuse
Target: ≤1 "not X but Y" per 1000 words
totalMatches11
per1kWords3.693
wordCount2979
matches
0"not anger, exactly, but a quick, bright sting of recognition"
1"not just bringers of goods but conveyors of meanings"
2"Not the same thing, of course, but something"
3"not the girl who left Cardiff with nothing but a stubborn hope wrapped around her wrists"
4"not a word but a pressure you could feel in your teeth, a cold bite at the"
5"not quite a solid thing but heavy enough to remind her of the gravity she wore like a se"
6"not finished, Silas said, almost to himself, but loud enough for the rhythm of the room to catch it"
7"no longer merely the courier but"
8"neither Rory nor"
9"neither Rory nor"
10"not fear but a readiness, the kind"
59.83% Overuse of "that" (subordinate clause padding)
Target: ≤2% sentences with "that" clauses
thatCount5
totalSentences156
matches
0"learned that couriers"
1"relive that night"
2"suggested that she"
3"know that price"
4"understood that the"
85.50% Paragraph length variance
Target: CV ≥0.5 for paragraph word counts
totalParagraphs65
mean45.83
std20.59
cv0.449
sampleLengths
091
168
26
35
428
572
687
726
843
930
1033
119
1261
1369
1440
1554
1660
1741
1851
19103
2034
2145
2235
2359
2471
2572
2623
2738
2842
2934
3039
3128
3258
3322
3477
3546
3640
3757
3826
3922
4026
4132
4252
4377
4454
4531
4617
4765
4867
4948
100.00% Passive voice overuse
Target: ≤2% passive sentences
passiveCount1
totalSentences156
matches
0"were supposed"
100.00% Past progressive (was/were + -ing) overuse
Target: ≤2% past progressive verbs
pastProgressiveCount2
totalVerbs488
matches
0"was pretending"
1"were exhaling"
0.00% Em-dash & semicolon overuse
Target: ≤2% sentences with em-dashes/semicolons
emDashCount24
semicolonCount10
flaggedSentences29
totalSentences156
ratio0.186
matches
0"The room narrowed to a single hinge of sound—the soft clack of a glass meeting a napkin, the faint whisper of a cigarette being bent between fingers, and the slow, deliberate approach of a man who had learned how to listen to a room before anyone spoke."
1"You should have stayed away, came the unspoken line as his eyes traced the crescent scar on her left wrist—an old childhood caution turned into a living reminder."
2"She did not touch the scar; she let the memory rest in the soft, lazy places of her mind where old alarms slept."
3"She set the courier’s bag down on the floor beside her chair, the scent of leather and something recent—new oil, perhaps—rising up to knit the present with the past."
4"The map-covered walls—cartographer’s notations, routes, a few places that had turned to ash—felt almost affectionate under his careful gaze."
5"The air tasted faintly of citrus oil and something heavier—damp wool, maybe, or rain-swept London stored inside a bottle."
6"That line did something to her; not anger, exactly, but a quick, bright sting of recognition."
7"A visible sign of his change was how he moved now—less a jagged piece kept for emergencies, more a man who had learned to conserve energy, to use restraint as currency."
8"She had learned that couriers were not just bringers of goods but conveyors of meanings—truths disguised as deliveries, secrets packed with the sheen of ordinary commerce."
9"The maps on the walls kept their secrets; the door to the hidden room kept its."
10"Rory looked at the map that anchored one corner of the bar—a cluster of routes leading to places that once seemed closer than they were."
11"The old operation had been a prize and a wound, both; the memory of that night had taught Rory how to fold time, how to fold a life around decisions imperfectly made."
12"The whispered history of the Nest—how many deals had passed through the room just feet from where they sat, how many loyalties had snapped like dry thread in that back space—felt almost companionable in its old familiarity."
13"The content wasn’t yet important; it was the act of delivering it, the ritual of bringing something into a place that had never quite stopped believing in second chances."
14"He reached for the ring on his finger and did not bite the gesture—just turned it, letting the metal catch and throw a spark of greenish light onto the pale skin of his knuckles."
15"I know a few things about you, she retorted, her voice even, though a thread of something—fear, or relief, or rage—ran through it."
16"He did not say more about it; he was too careful for that kind of confession."
17"Silas’s shoulders tightened; he did not move to deny the assertion."
18"The memory moved like a shadow along the back wall—the door’s mechanism, the way the shelf sighed when it opened, the way a quiet company of old nerves could wake with one name spoken aloud in a room that had learned to keep its secrets."
19"Rory had learned to live with the secrets; she’d learned to carry them like a light pack you could ease off at night only if you trusted the ground beneath your feet."
20"He did not say who; the omission spoke louder than the words."
21"The shelf’s creak sounded again—the door ready to breathe out a history."
22"The air thickened; a weight landed on Rory’s shoulders, not quite a solid thing but heavy enough to remind her of the gravity she wore like a second skin."
23"Then, with a sound like a throat clearing of old ghosts, the door to the back room opened wider than a crack, and a shadow emerged—the kind that filled the space with a cold promise."
24"Rory watched the line of a memory reel itself forward—Prague, the failed objective, the price paid, the almost-safety of pretending it hadn’t mattered."
25"A new player—unknown, unseen, and disturbingly present—began to speak from the room beyond the door."
26"Then the back room door jolted, and the sound of something heavy brushing wood came through, followed by a low, mechanical click—the sound of a lock turning, a door sliding."
27"The memory of the old pact rose up between them—the pact that had once kept them both breathing, even when the air between them turned sharp as a blade."
28"And then, in the sudden, explosive hush that followed, a single shot seemed to fracture the room—though the noise itself never travelled far, it landed squarely in Rory’s chest, in Silas’s calm, in the moment when the two old friends finally understood that the time between them had never truly been empty."
99.56% Purple prose (modifier overload)
Target: <4% adverbs, <2% -ly adverbs, no adj stacking
wordCount3012
adjectiveStacks0
stackExamples(empty)
adverbCount122
adverbRatio0.04050464807436919
lyAdverbCount17
lyAdverbRatio0.005644090305444887
100.00% Repeated phrase echo
Target: ≤20% sentences with echoes (window: 2)
totalSentences156
echoCount0
echoWords(empty)
100.00% Sentence length variance
Target: CV ≥0.4 for sentence word counts
totalSentences156
mean19.1
std10.49
cv0.549
sampleLengths
015
123
224
329
447
521
66
75
828
920
1023
1129
1218
1321
1429
1519
1626
1727
1816
194
207
2119
2233
233
246
2516
2629
2716
2831
2920
3018
3140
329
3326
3419
356
3627
3711
3816
3922
4019
419
4226
4316
4425
4514
4632
4714
4818
4922
37.82% Sentence opener variety
Target: ≥60% unique sentence openers
consecutiveRepeats19
diversityRatio0.23076923076923078
totalSentences156
uniqueOpeners36
100.00% Adverb-first sentence starts
Target: ≥3% sentences starting with an adverb
adverbCount5
totalSentences154
matches
0"Maybe, he said, and his"
1"Then she added, You’re still"
2"Then, with a sound like"
3"Then the back room door"
4"Then the figure spoke, and"
ratio0.032
97.92% Pronoun-first sentence starts
Target: ≤30% sentences starting with a pronoun
pronounCount47
totalSentences154
matches
0"He stepped from the dim,"
1"You should have stayed away,"
2"She did not touch the"
3"She set the courier’s bag"
4"He simply observed, as if"
5"You’ve changed, she said, moving"
6"I’ve learned to live with"
7"He wore it like a"
8"I kept the books in"
9"She had learned that couriers"
10"She had become someone who"
11"He set it down with"
12"His voice softened, though no"
13"You came to me, he"
14"I came because you still"
15"It was to know what"
16"You’ve built a new life,"
17"I’ve built something too."
18"He did not smile, or"
19"It was for the room,"
ratio0.305
50.91% Subject-first sentence starts
Target: ≤72% sentences starting with a subject
subjectCount126
totalSentences154
matches
0"Glass struck oak with a"
1"Amber spilled along the counter,"
2"The Nest’s green neon buzzed"
3"He stepped from the dim,"
4"The room narrowed to a"
5"Silas paused at the ash-blackened"
6"You should have stayed away,"
7"That would have been neat,"
8"She did not touch the"
9"She set the courier’s bag"
10"Silas did not wink at"
11"He simply observed, as if"
12"The hidden back room lay"
13"The map-covered walls—cartographer’s notations, routes,"
14"That’s a neat little reunion,"
15"The gesture was small, but"
16"The neon hummed with a"
17"The air tasted faintly of"
18"You’ve changed, she said, moving"
19"Silas’s lips twitched."
ratio0.818
97.40% Subordinate conjunction sentence starts
Target: ≥2% sentences starting with a subordinating conjunction
subConjCount3
totalSentences154
matches
0"If she was here with"
1"Now she wore both."
2"If there is a price,"
ratio0.019
32.52% Technical jargon density
Target: ≤6% sentences with technical-jargon patterns
analyzedSentences123
technicalSentenceCount19
matches
0"The room narrowed to a single hinge of sound—the soft clack of a glass meeting a napkin, the faint whisper of a cigarette being bent between fingers, and the sl…"
1"Silas paused at the ash-blackened bar and regarded Rory with that slow, measuring gaze that had once kept entire operations breathing."
2"The hidden back room lay behind a bookshelf that had never ceased to feel like a secret, even when no one alive had used it for secrets in years."
3"The map-covered walls—cartographer’s notations, routes, a few places that had turned to ash—felt almost affectionate under his careful gaze."
4"That’s a neat little reunion, he said, a humourless greeting that carried a weight Rory recognised from a dozen years of shared routes and shared dangers."
5"And you’ve aged into a quiet kind of menace, she replied, tapping the edge of the bag with her knuckles as if testing the air for knives."
6"You’ve changed, she said, moving her bag aside and sliding onto a stool with a bar-tempered ease that suggested she’d learned to carry herself through days when…"
7"A visible sign of his change was how he moved now—less a jagged piece kept for emergencies, more a man who had learned to conserve energy, to use restraint as c…"
8"The knee still protested his steps with a slow, stubborn protest that had earned him a permanent, almost affectionate limp."
9"A few patrons, strangers and regulars alike, drank through the moment, their eyes flicking between the two before surrendering to the quiet of their own convers…"
10"Maybe, he said, and his tone carried a kind of careful gratitude, as if he had learned to count the right blessings at the right times."
11"The content wasn’t yet important; it was the act of delivering it, the ritual of bringing something into a place that had never quite stopped believing in secon…"
12"The kind of thing that makes you second-guess every action you took after the fact."
13"Rory felt a small, almost girlish tremor in her hands, then steadied it with a deliberate breath that smelled of citrus oil and rain-swept leather."
14"If there is a price, I will pay it, she said, the edge of her voice catching just enough of a tremor to show she was no longer merely the courier but someone wh…"
15"Silas did not move a muscle, but his gaze sharpened, calculating, a man who had learned to anticipate the moment when a plan stopped being a plan and turned int…"
16"And then, in the sudden, explosive hush that followed, a single shot seemed to fracture the room—though the noise itself never travelled far, it landed squarely…"
17"The scene shook, the neon’s green light flickered, and the shelves groaned as though the building itself had sagged under the weight of time and consequences."
18"They both rose with something like a practiced grace, not fear but a readiness, the kind that follows a life spent watching the door for a long, long time."
100.00% Useless dialogue additions
Target: ≤5% dialogue tags with trailing filler fragments
totalTags0
uselessAdditionCount0
matches(empty)
100.00% Dialogue tag variety (said vs. fancy)
Target: ≤10% fancy dialogue tags
totalTags0
77.2098%