Run: 2026-03-25-01KMJ87TA5Q66GGXKG5JW09P58

Run Details

Duration:
43.4s
Cost:
$0.002364
Provider:
Alibaba

Model input

System
You are an expert and award-winning novel writer in the dark Thriller 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="4416" name="Detective Harlow Quinn" aliases="Quinn, Detective Quinn, Harlow" pronouns="she/her" species="Human" storyRole="Antagonist"> <eyeColor>brown</eyeColor> <hair>closely cropped salt-and-pepper</hair> <height>5'9"</height> <age>41</age> <jawline>sharp jaw</jawline> <watch>worn leather watch on her left wrist</watch> <bearing>military precision</bearing> <description>A Metropolitan Police detective with 18 years of decorated service who suspects the clique is involved in criminal activity.</description> <backstory>She lost her partner, DS Morris, during a case three years ago under unexplained circumstances that had supernatural origins she doesn't yet understand.</backstory> </character> <character id="4417" name="Tomás Herrera" aliases="Tommy, Tomás, Herrera" pronouns="he/him" species="Human" storyRole="Support"> <eyeColor>warm brown</eyeColor> <hair>short curly dark brown</hair> <height>5'10"</height> <age>29</age> <skinTone>olive skin</skinTone> <scar>scar running along his left forearm from a knife attack</scar> <medallion>Saint Christopher medallion around his neck</medallion> <birthplace>Seville, Spain</birthplace> <description>A former paramedic who provides off-the-books medical care for the clique.</description> <backstory>Born in Seville, Spain. He moved to London to work for the NHS but lost his license after administering unauthorized treatments to supernatural patients.</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> <location id="856" name="The Veil Market" aliases="Veil Market, the Market, underground market" realm="Earth"> <currentLocation>abandoned Tube station beneath Camden</currentLocation> <entryRequirement>bone token</entryRequirement> <schedule>moves locations every full moon</schedule> <description>A hidden supernatural black market that sells enchanted goods, banned alchemical substances, and information.</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 thriller genre. A detective is pursuing a suspect through rain-soaked city streets at night. The chase takes them from the street level down into an underground market. The detective must decide whether to follow the suspect into unfamiliar and potentially dangerous territory. 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
Quinn's hand snapped out, intercepting the suspect’s limp at the wrist. The man yelped as his shoulder twisted awkwardly under her grip. Rain slashed sideways, turning the cobblestones into a mirror, but she didn’t let up. His left arm flailed, almost skimming the neon glare of a shopfront. Almost. "Bloody hell, you're like a bloody shark." The suspect’s teeth chattered. Not from cold. Fear. Good. He was right about one thing—her fingers had locked around his bicep with the kind of precision that made even the most uncooperative victims reconsider resistance. "You’re not going far on three legs." Quinn gestured to the mangled boot he left in the gutter. It dangled from the iron grating, a jagged half-moon of broken leather. His knee had taken a hit when he vaulted the alley wall, but she’d expected the stumble. Military school taught you how to misjudge momentum. He tried to wrench free, eyes darting to the shadows pooling at street level. A sharp glance upwards. The green neon sign of *The Raven’s Nest* blinked overhead. "You don’t have jurisdiction here." He managed to sneer, though his voice was half-washed away by the downpour. "The only law down here’s gravity." She stepped into him, her salt-and-pepper hair soaked to a flattop against her skull. The watch on her left wrist thumbed forward, second hand slicing through the waterlogged air. "Who stitched you up after you broke your foot? That clinic on Greek Street? Tommy Herrera?" His face went ashen. A tell. The clinic was a front. She knew. Herrera was a back-alley medic for the clique, and this boy had just limped out of his territory. "DS Morris used to say the same thing about jurisdiction." Quinn’s words hung in the air, and the suspect’s breath hitched. The old wound—her partner, lost to mysteries she still couldn’t name—was a tool, even if it felt like a knife twisting in her own ribs. "Turns out, dead men don’t vote. But living ones do." She shoved him, and he staggered forward. The Raven’s Nest bar filled the mouth of the alley, but the suspect made for the back. Not the entrance. He knew the place. Quinn followed. The bar’s walls had always been plastered with maps and black-and-white photos, but tonight the shadows between them seemed to breathe. The air reeked of stale beer and copper. Blood, recent. Herrera’s territory. She didn’t let it faze her. The suspect clattered down the stairs toward the hidden room, her boots sticking to the third step where something greasy had been tracked. He was losing time. She could feel it in the way his hip tilted as he moved, the way he knew every turn before he took it. The bookshelf door groaned open. The hidden room wasn’t empty. Three figures stood in a loose triangle, backs to the wall. One—medium height, olive skin catching the dim light—held what looked like a syringe in his palm. Not pointing anywhere. Not yet. "Told you that door wasn’t locked." Herrera. His voice was soft, Seville smoothness overlaid with a warning click. The scar on his forearm stood out, red against the blue light of the bar’s neon bleeding through the floorboards. Quinn stepped into the room. The suspect tried to bolt backward, but Herrera’s other hand was already on the shelf, rolling it closed. No escape. She let her hand fall to her hip, where the truncheon usually nested. Tonight, it was in her pocket. She needed a different kind of force here. "You’re a long way from the station, Quinn." Herrera’s eyes never left hers, but he angled the needle down. Defensive. He thought he was the only one who could spot the blade in someone’s voice. "You’re a long way from the NHS." She kept her stance open, palm up to show empty hands. He smiled, though it didn’t warm the room. "I patch up what the world tries to break." "España’s a long way from here." Her accent clipped the syllables. London had learned her tongue first. "The tox screen on your table shows something else you’re patching up." His fingers twitched. One of them—Herrera—was always twitching. Three years ago, DS Morris had said the same thing about the man who killed him. "What you don’t see on paper is the cost." A new voice. Slurred. The shortest of the three, woman with a bruise blooming behind her ear like a foreign flag. "You think we’re just *beggars* up here?" She spat the word *beggars* as if it were a curse. Quinn had heard that one before. "You do your business in the open," Quinn countered. "Or you’re hiding something." The suspect laughed, though it sounded like he was choking on smoke. "Tell your report how you chased a lunatic down a back room in Soho. Let’s see what the commissioner thinks about that." Quinn didn’t move toward her holstered gun just yet. "Full moon in two days," she said. "Camden’s getting the usual crowd. You’ve got a Tube key in that pocket of yours. Or I can keep you here and hope the Thames still has space for bodies." The silence that followed tasted like rust. Herrera finally lowered the needle. The woman with the bruise rubbed at the mark, as if grinding it into muscle memory. The suspect’s eyes darted, but the door had sealed. Quinn leaned in. "I asked your friend what he saw. He said you left her bleeding on the path." "Her?" Herrera’s voice didn’t shift. Neutral. But Quinn could see him calculating. How many people had bled in his clinic since he lost his license? How many had bled without consent? The woman’s fingers dug into the shelf. "Who’s bleeding now?" she asked. "You, maybe? Lost a bloke, didn’t you? Three years back? Still chasing ghosts." Quinn blinked. The trigger. That was it. Herrera’s hand went still. The woman’s lips parted. They didn’t know how right they were. She reached for her radio. The first button press, and the signal cut to static. Not an accident. They hadn’t known she’d followed the suspect here, but the tech in this room had. "Let’s try something else." She flicked the radio off. Took three steps back. The bookshelf creaked open. Herrera was already moving to stop her, but she didn’t wait. She hit the stairwell harder than necessary, boots skidding on the waxed floor. The suspect had left the bar, and she had to assume he hadn’t gone far. Rain still hissed in the gutters above as she hit the street. The green neon sign above the entrance pulsed, flicking out as she passed. Herrera’s clinic was two blocks down, but the suspect had gone west. Toward the Tube. She knew where they were heading. The Veil Market. The station at Camden was supposed to be abandoned. Coroner’s report said it had flooded in the Victorian era, but the maps in the *Raven’s Nest* contradicted that. Every full moon, the bar’s maps shifted. New addresses. New entrances. Tonight, one of them had to be to the Veil Market. Quinn pulled a knife from her boot sheath. Herrera’s hand had been on it—she’d known. The steel caught the light as it buried into the back of the nearest bobby’s hand. A bone token. Not his. It had started to bleed, but Quinn didn’t care. The clique’s secrets were bleeding out long enough. The gates of the Tube were sealed, but the token found the keyhole. She pressed down, and the iron shuddered. The lock didn’t just pop—it whined like a creature waking. Inside, the platform was a rotting mouth: tiles peeled back to show dirt, graffiti layered over Victorian script she didn’t recognize. The smell here was acrid, metallic beyond rust. Her watch ticked on, but her breath was louder. Herrera’s knife had left a smear of blood on the gate. She’d taken three of his tokens. One for the entrance. Two saved for when the exit got messy. "You can’t be trusted with the rules, Quinn." A woman from the shadows. Short. Sharp. The same voice that had answered the bar’s door. "The Veil Market doesn’t take kindly to interlopers." Quinn didn’t move. She’d seen the same map in that office back at the station. A drawing from the suspect’s wallet. But no name, no address—so she’d come here. "You let bodies take kindly to the Thames," she said. "I’m not here for what you’re selling. I’m here for what you’re hiding." The woman stepped forward. Rain ran down the edges of her trench coat in tiny waterfalls. "You think this is a *market*. It’s a sieve. Every full moon, something else slips through." She raised a hand, and the token in Quinn’s fist went ice-cold. "If you’re so interested in what’s missing, ask the one who gave the order for the last burial." Burial. DS Morris’s file mentioned something about a body exhumed after his funeral. Not dead. Not quite alive. Herrera had examined it. The walls pulsed—damp, breathy, *alive*—as Quinn stepped through the gate. The token dissolved into a powder she kicked over the threshold. No turning back. The stairwell down was a funnel of wet brick and iron. Her boots echoed, but not alone. The suspect’s limp had caught up. He was waiting for her at the bottom. The Veil Market was alive with the kind of noise that shouldn’t exist. Voices in half-dozen languages, but the core of it was a howl. A gong struck in the distance, followed by a hiss of steam. Quinn’s torch cut the darkness, revealing shelves of teeth, bundles in plastic wrap that moved when her light hit them. A man with a crown of moths sold a pocket watch that didn’t tick but *sang*. The suspect was gone. She had to assume he’d already triggered the trap. “Herrera.” The voice was a whisper, and it came from a corner where candles were made of black wax. A stall sold mirrors, but the glass in them showed reflections she didn’t recognize. "You let the bobby in?" Herrera didn’t appear at the stall. At least, not visibly. The syringe in her hand was empty. Maybe she’d left it there deliberately. A new sound: laughter under a layer of static. Quinn turned. A figure in a velvet coat was there, holding the suspect by the throat. Herrera again—or someone who looked exactly like him. The scar, the posture, the accent: all the same. But his left hand was inside the suspect’s ribs, and there was no sound of breath coming from the thing between them. “You’re late.” The Herrera-clone smiled. “They said you’d come.” Quinn didn’t slow. “You look like a man who’s been stitched up before.” “I look,” he said, “like a man who *can’t* be stitched up. Not here.” The hand in the suspect’s ribs withdrew. A small object gleamed on the floor where it had dropped. A brass key. Not the kind to unlock a Tube station. This one had teeth marks. Herrera’s. “You want the body count,” the clone said, “ask about the one buried in 1893. Same place. Same people.” The words hit like a tripwire. She knew what he meant. Three years ago, the night before they lost DS Morris. The clinic where Herrera had trained. The body that had been missing. Quinn reached for the key. He didn’t stop her. “Turn around.” A new voice. A woman in a red coat emerged from the shadows, holding a bow that no string could power. “You’ve been here too long.” The key in Quinn’s hand grew hotter. Like Herrera had burned it into his ribs. She took a half-step back, but Herrera’s doppelgänger was already moving. Fast. Too fast for a man who should’ve been dead. The first arrow missed her neck by inches. Quinn flung the truncheon, hearing its crack as it struck skin. The clone staggered—*real enough for that*—but his right hand flicked upward. The truncheon snapped in half. Plastic shards went one way, and his fingers went another, tracing a line on the wall where the tiles hissed open. "Last warning." The red-coated woman drew a second bow. Quinn had seconds to decide. Herrera’s key burned in her palm. The Veil Market’s walls pulsed like a heartbeat. She stepped through the newly opened passage. Three flights down. No light. No air. Just the sound of her own boots and the echo of the shot taken as she went. The first body was there, slumped over a rusted railing. Not dead. Not yet. Skin bloated with the same kind of wounds Herrera left on patients. She pressed on. The key fit one door in the blackness. It opened onto a chamber that reeked of wet earth and rot. Herrera sat against the wall, hands bound with the same black wax as the market mirrors. The Saint Christopher medallion at his neck was scorched. “You let them think you’re one of this lot?” she asked. “The Market’s not your friend.” “Would you let me explain?” Herrera’s voice was hoarse, but his eyes were steady. “The thing they’re using up there? It’s not a clone. It’s the *body* of the first one. The one the O’Reillys buried after their last war.” He nodded at her watch. “The watch in your pocket. Your brother’s watch. You think you’re chasing a man. But you’re walking into a family argument.” Quinn froze. The watch hadn’t been hers. DS Morris had given it to her. After his funeral, someone had left it at her flat. No note. Just the leather and the wind-up mechanism that had broken when she tried to fix it. Her hand went to her pocket. The watch was gone. In its place: a photo. A small, 19th-century photograph of Herrera’s face. Holding a pen that looked like it bled black. Above them, the floor trembled. The woman in the red coat stepped through the chamber’s only entrance. “You shouldn’t have come down,” she said, voice colder than the key. A bow materialized in her hand, and the arrow was already coated with the same wax as Herrera’s bindings. Quinn didn’t run. She’d made her choice. But Herrera’s lips moved under the pressure of his gag—a whisper, an incantation. A sound like the Thames swallowing something whole. The red-coated woman hesitated. *Good.*
created_at"2026-03-25T10:21:57.962Z" 3/25/2026, 10:21:57 AM
model"qwen/qwen3-32b-04-28"
app_id182717
external_user(null)
streamedtrue
cancelledfalse
latency791
moderation_latency(null)
generation_time43355
tokens_prompt4686
tokens_completion5344
native_tokens_prompt4211
native_tokens_completion4630
native_tokens_completion_images(null)
native_tokens_reasoning1364
native_tokens_cached0
num_media_prompt(null)
num_input_audio_prompt(null)
num_media_completion0
num_search_results(null)
origin"https://ncbench.com/"
is_byokfalse
finish_reason"stop"
native_finish_reason"stop"
usage0.002364024
router(null)
provider_responses
0
endpoint_id"344ccdcc-6e59-464d-89ab-8e5b92fe2adc"
id"chatcmpl-b1106829-5012-9063-84fc-b51f64b7e2d0"
is_byokfalse
latency791
model_permaslug"qwen/qwen3-32b-04-28"
provider_name"Alibaba"
status200
user_agent"langchainjs-openai/1.0.0 ((node/v24.14.0; linux; x64))"
http_referer(null)
api_type"completions"
id"gen-1774434117-0hbVxzphXeiGfFFqxs3b"
upstream_id"chatcmpl-b1106829-5012-9063-84fc-b51f64b7e2d0"
total_cost0.002364024
cache_discount(null)
upstream_inference_cost0
provider_name"Alibaba"

Evaluation details

Result Evaluator Details Meta Data
100.00% Adverbs in dialogue tags
Target: ≤10% dialogue tags with adverbs
totalTags24
adverbTagCount0
adverbTags(empty)
dialogueSentences47
tagDensity0.511
leniency1
rawRatio0
effectiveRatio0
97.91% AI-ism adverb frequency
Target: <2% AI-ism adverbs (58 tracked)
wordCount2394
totalAiIsmAdverbs1
found
0
adverb"deliberately"
count1
highlights
0"deliberately"
100.00% AI-ism character names
Target: 0 AI-default names (17 tracked, −20% each)
codexExemptions(empty)
found(empty)
100.00% AI-ism location names
Target: 0 AI-default location names (33 tracked, −20% each)
codexExemptions(empty)
found(empty)
68.67% AI-ism word frequency
Target: <2% AI-ism words (290 tracked)
wordCount2394
totalAiIsms15
found
0
word"could feel"
count1
1
word"silence"
count1
2
word"calculating"
count1
3
word"flicked"
count2
4
word"pulsed"
count3
5
word"echoed"
count1
6
word"whisper"
count2
7
word"velvet"
count1
8
word"tracing"
count1
9
word"echo"
count1
10
word"trembled"
count1
highlights
0"could feel"
1"silence"
2"calculating"
3"flicked"
4"pulsed"
5"echoed"
6"whisper"
7"velvet"
8"tracing"
9"echo"
10"trembled"
100.00% Cliché density
Target: ≤1 cliche(s) per 800-word window
totalCliches1
maxInWindow1
found
0
label"hung in the air"
count1
highlights
0"hung in the air"
100.00% Emotion telling (show vs. tell)
Target: ≤3% sentences with emotion telling
emotionTells0
narrationSentences244
matches(empty)
90.16% Filter word density
Target: ≤3% sentences with filter/hedge words
filterCount3
hedgeCount6
narrationSentences244
filterMatches
0"watch"
hedgeMatches
0"tried to"
1"managed to"
2"seemed to"
3"started to"
100.00% Gibberish response detection
Target: ≤1% gibberish-like sentences (hard fail if a sentence exceeds 800 words)
analyzedSentences262
gibberishSentences0
adjustedGibberishSentences0
longSentenceCount0
runOnParagraphCount0
giantParagraphCount0
wordSaladCount0
repetitionLoopCount0
controlTokenCount0
maxSentenceWordsSeen31
ratio0
matches(empty)
100.00% Markdown formatting overuse
Target: ≤5% words in markdown formatting
markdownSpans11
markdownWords17
totalWords2381
ratio0.007
matches
0"The Raven’s Nest"
1"beggars"
2"beggars"
3"Raven’s Nest"
4"market"
5"alive"
6"sang"
7"can’t"
8"real enough for that"
9"body"
10"Good."
100.00% Missing dialogue indicators (quotation marks)
Target: ≤10% speech attributions without quotation marks
totalAttributions23
unquotedAttributions0
matches(empty)
66.67% Name drop frequency
Target: ≤1.0 per-name mentions per 100 words
totalMentions99
wordCount1950
uniqueNames25
maxNameDensity1.44
worstName"Herrera"
maxWindowNameDensity3
worstWindowName"Herrera"
discoveredNames
Raven3
Nest3
Seville1
Herrera28
Defensive1
London1
Morris4
Slurred1
Quinn25
Neutral1
Took1
Tube3
Veil4
Market4
Camden1
Victorian2
Short1
Burial1
Herrera-clone1
Saint1
Christopher1
Thames1
Rain3
Three4
One3
persons
0"Raven"
1"Herrera"
2"Morris"
3"Quinn"
4"Market"
5"Herrera-clone"
6"Saint"
7"Christopher"
8"Rain"
9"One"
places
0"Nest"
1"Seville"
2"London"
3"Tube"
4"Veil"
5"Camden"
6"Victorian"
7"Thames"
globalScore0.782
windowScore0.667
47.26% Narrator intent-glossing
Target: ≤2% narration sentences with intent-glossing patterns
analyzedSentences146
glossingSentenceCount6
matches
0"felt like a knife twisting in her own r"
1"looked like a syringe in his palm"
2"sounded like he was choking on smoke"
3"tasted like rust"
4"as if grinding it into muscle memory"
5"looked like it bled black"
100.00% "Not X but Y" pattern overuse
Target: ≤1 "not X but Y" per 1000 words
totalMatches0
per1kWords0
wordCount2381
matches(empty)
100.00% Overuse of "that" (subordinate clause padding)
Target: ≤2% sentences with "that" clauses
thatCount0
totalSentences262
matches(empty)
100.00% Paragraph length variance
Target: CV ≥0.5 for paragraph word counts
totalParagraphs67
mean35.54
std19.24
cv0.541
sampleLengths
049
142
255
346
451
531
656
733
889
942
1038
1152
1235
1318
1417
1529
1624
1754
1813
1934
2046
2156
2231
2325
2422
2533
2656
2740
286
293
3050
3153
3259
3338
3432
3552
3662
3722
3855
3973
404
419
4238
4323
4464
459
4613
4749
4819
4933
96.64% Passive voice overuse
Target: ≤2% passive sentences
passiveCount6
totalSentences244
matches
0"been plastered"
1"been tracked"
2"was supposed"
3"was gone"
4"were made"
5"was gone"
45.86% Past progressive (was/were + -ing) overuse
Target: ≤2% past progressive verbs
pastProgressiveCount8
totalVerbs346
matches
0"was losing"
1"was always twitching"
2"was choking"
3"was already moving"
4"were heading"
5"were bleeding"
6"was waiting"
7"was already moving"
22.90% Em-dash & semicolon overuse
Target: ≤2% sentences with em-dashes/semicolons
emDashCount16
semicolonCount0
flaggedSentences11
totalSentences262
ratio0.042
matches
0"He was right about one thing—her fingers had locked around his bicep with the kind of precision that made even the most uncooperative victims reconsider resistance."
1"The old wound—her partner, lost to mysteries she still couldn’t name—was a tool, even if it felt like a knife twisting in her own ribs."
2"One—medium height, olive skin catching the dim light—held what looked like a syringe in his palm."
3"One of them—Herrera—was always twitching."
4"Herrera’s hand had been on it—she’d known."
5"The lock didn’t just pop—it whined like a creature waking."
6"But no name, no address—so she’d come here."
7"The walls pulsed—damp, breathy, *alive*—as Quinn stepped through the gate."
8"Herrera again—or someone who looked exactly like him."
9"The clone staggered—*real enough for that*—but his right hand flicked upward."
10"But Herrera’s lips moved under the pressure of his gag—a whisper, an incantation."
94.00% Purple prose (modifier overload)
Target: <4% adverbs, <2% -ly adverbs, no adj stacking
wordCount1977
adjectiveStacks1
stackExamples
0"acrid, metallic beyond rust."
adverbCount50
adverbRatio0.025290844714213456
lyAdverbCount9
lyAdverbRatio0.004552352048558422
100.00% Repeated phrase echo
Target: ≤20% sentences with echoes (window: 2)
totalSentences262
echoCount0
echoWords(empty)
100.00% Sentence length variance
Target: CV ≥0.4 for sentence word counts
totalSentences262
mean9.09
std6.1
cv0.671
sampleLengths
011
111
214
312
41
511
63
71
81
926
1018
1112
1217
138
1414
154
1610
1718
1820
1915
2016
214
222
235
242
2518
2621
2725
2810
297
3017
313
324
332
3421
358
362
372
386
3923
404
4123
425
435
4411
4516
463
472
487
4911
43.13% Sentence opener variety
Target: ≥60% unique sentence openers
consecutiveRepeats18
diversityRatio0.26717557251908397
totalSentences262
uniqueOpeners70
80.91% Adverb-first sentence starts
Target: ≥3% sentences starting with an adverb
adverbCount5
totalSentences206
matches
0"At least, not visibly."
1"Maybe she’d left it there"
2"Too fast for a man"
3"Just the sound of her"
4"Just the leather and the"
ratio0.024
100.00% Pronoun-first sentence starts
Target: ≤30% sentences starting with a pronoun
pronounCount48
totalSentences206
matches
0"His left arm flailed, almost"
1"He was right about one"
2"It dangled from the iron"
3"His knee had taken a"
4"He tried to wrench free,"
5"He managed to sneer, though"
6"She stepped into him, her"
7"His face went ashen."
8"She shoved him, and he"
9"He knew the place."
10"She didn’t let it faze"
11"He was losing time."
12"She could feel it in"
13"His voice was soft, Seville"
14"She let her hand fall"
15"She needed a different kind"
16"He thought he was the"
17"She kept her stance open,"
18"He smiled, though it didn’t"
19"Her accent clipped the syllables"
ratio0.233
47.38% Subject-first sentence starts
Target: ≤72% sentences starting with a subject
subjectCount170
totalSentences206
matches
0"Quinn's hand snapped out, intercepting"
1"The man yelped as his"
2"Rain slashed sideways, turning the"
3"His left arm flailed, almost"
4"The suspect’s teeth chattered"
5"He was right about one"
6"Quinn gestured to the mangled"
7"It dangled from the iron"
8"His knee had taken a"
9"Military school taught you how"
10"He tried to wrench free,"
11"A sharp glance upwards."
12"The green neon sign of"
13"He managed to sneer, though"
14"She stepped into him, her"
15"The watch on her left"
16"His face went ashen."
17"The clinic was a front."
18"Herrera was a back-alley medic"
19"Quinn’s words hung in the"
ratio0.825
0.00% Subordinate conjunction sentence starts
Target: ≥2% sentences starting with a subordinating conjunction
subConjCount0
totalSentences206
matches(empty)
ratio0
100.00% Technical jargon density
Target: ≤6% sentences with technical-jargon patterns
analyzedSentences74
technicalSentenceCount2
matches
0"He was right about one thing—her fingers had locked around his bicep with the kind of precision that made even the most uncooperative victims reconsider resista…"
1"Quinn’s torch cut the darkness, revealing shelves of teeth, bundles in plastic wrap that moved when her light hit them."
83.33% Useless dialogue additions
Target: ≤5% dialogue tags with trailing filler fragments
totalTags24
uselessAdditionCount2
matches
0"He managed, though his voice was half-washed away by the downpour"
1"she said, voice colder than the key"
100.00% Dialogue tag variety (said vs. fancy)
Target: ≤10% fancy dialogue tags
totalTags9
fancyCount2
fancyTags
0"The suspect’s teeth chattered (chatter)"
1"She spat (spit)"
dialogueSentences47
tagDensity0.191
leniency0.383
rawRatio0.222
effectiveRatio0.085
82.8272%