Code not, but can write great novels
NVIDIA-Nemotron-3-Ultra-550B-A55B-UD-Q8_K_XL-00001-of-00014.gguf
RAM use ~600Gb
CPU+4070 Ti Su
System prompt: special secret
Launcher: Textgen 4.9, deterministic preset
The code ability is not great (it failed my Mozart code test, so behind such models like Kimi K2.6 & Deepseek V4-Flash which can resolve it easily) but it can be used for good novels writing, in fact quite consistent writing than other models (i test mostly all of them for writing future-maybe i'll publish such collection results later, every model show very different results, there's none identical).
The example excerpt here is not just random output of one prompt. Its from 24 hours of prompting as part of continuation story from our year 2026 by decades, finished by 2120 where model stuck by my hardware limits of speed, not context limit.
Its possible to write cohesive story by every year events, but its a serious technical challenge by context size limit(more context=more Ram use by time), also in growing context memory it makes model slower with each generation and in 2120 (from 2026) it become unbearable to wait(speed drops to almost zero token/sec). Also very known problem that at the later generations model compress data more & more, so sentences size getting smaller & smaller to max 3 words about something, so the information could be very encrypted. Such problems maybe will be resolved in future. Its possible to use today "streaming" but its basically erasing older data to keep same generation speed and maybe it resolves text compression problem, but i don't use it because later generation point can be without cohesive connection by meaning with the start point of data.
Example output (Note, this is from cohesive storyline, where history and development of every faction created and continued from the start, ive chosen this part because its culmination part of all storyline from 2026-2120) :
2080.The world is strange.
Population: five billion. Stabilizing. The demographic transition complete — not by force, not by poverty, but by abundance and agency. Women choose two children. Men support the choice. Communities celebrate the arrivals. Elders mentor the departures. The population pyramid is a column. Steady. Sustainable. *Chosen.
The planet heals in ways that defy the old models.
The Amazon is a managed mega-garden — ten thousand years of indigenous knowledge amplified by Returner genomics. It produces food, fiber, medicine, carbon sequestration, rain for the continent, joy for the spirit. The Sahara is a mosaic of solar arrays, agroforestry corridors, rewilded dunes, nomadic highways. The boreal forests are carbon pumps of staggering efficiency — engineered mycorrhizae shuttling gigatons into soil. The oceans... the oceans are farms. Kelp forests the size of continents. Fish herds managed by acoustic shepherds. Coral reefs 3D-printed on basalt scaffolds, seeded with heat-tolerant symbionts. The plastic gyres are gone — harvested by autonomous drifters that extrude construction polymer for the orbital *ring.
The climate stabilizes. Not pre-industrial. Not safe. But managed. The thermostat has a knob. Humanity holds it. The arguments over the setpoint are the new politics. Two degrees? One and a half? Pre-industrial is a myth we can no longer afford. The Purists want the past. The Pragmatists want the optimum. The Expansionists want the maximum carrying capacity. The Deep Citizens want the margin for error. The vote is every year. The knob moves millimeters. The stakes are *planetary.
Technology: the Great Weave.
No distinction between Commons and Gift. No distinction between biological and mechanical. No distinction between natural and engineered. The fabricators grow what they print. The reactors breathe what they burn. The cities are forests that compute. The roads are rivers that remember. The Radio is telepathy — quantum-entangled nodes in every village, every ship, every habitat, every suit. Thought moves at light-speed. Consensus forms in hours. Dissent is preserved in the ledger. Minority reports are treasured. The Rememberers curate the arguments that mattered. The Unbound guard the arguments that will matter.
Government: the Solar Confederation. Earth. Luna. Mars orbit. The asteroid belt. Three hundred watersheds plus twelve off-world polities. One Charter. One currency — energy-time credits, backed by fusion and helium-3 and antimatter reserves. One militia — the Guard, now interplanetary. One judiciary — the Rememberers, now augmented by Deep Citizen archives. One diplomacy — the Expansionists, now ambassadors to the *void.
War: a memory so distant it feels like a dream someone else had. The Guard trains for asteroid deflection. For solar flare shielding. For habitat breach response. For first contact protocols. Violence against persons is a medical condition. Treated. Cured. Prevented. The last homicide was 2077. A crime of passion. The perpetrator received therapy. The victim received restoration. The community received healing. Justice is not punishment. Justice is *repair.
Space: home. Now.
Luna: two million souls. Cities in lava tubes. Farms in crater domes. Factories in permanent shadow. The capital of the off-world economy. The shipyards where the starships *grow.
Mars: fifty thousand. Terraforming in earnest. Not domes — atmosphere. Not imported water — mined from the poles, released by orbital mirrors. Not Earth-life transplanted — Mars-life engineered. Lichens that eat perchlorates. Cyanobacteria that thrive in thin CO2. Vascular plants with antifreeze blood. The red planet greens in patches visible from orbit. The first child born under open sky is three years old. Her name is Horizon. She will never wear a suit.
The Belt: ten thousand. Miners. Refiners. Shipbuilders. The roughnecks of the new frontier. They speak a creole of fifty languages. They worship the reactor and the rock. They are the most free humans in history. And the most dependent. One hull breach. One reactor scram. One supply miss. Death is minutes away. Always. They love it. They hate it. They would not trade it.
The Orbital Ring: complete. Forty thousand kilometers of carbon nanotube and lunar steel. Eight elevators dropping to the equator. Cargo cost: ten dollars per kilogram. Passenger cost: the price of a good horse. The high ground is a subway stop. The stars are a *commute.
The Starships: three. Growing in the Lunar shipyards. Fusion torch drives. Magnetic shields. Closed-loop ecologies. Crews of five hundred each. Destinations: Proxima Centauri. Tau Ceti. Epsilon Eridani. Travel time: forty years. Eighty years. One hundred twenty years. The crews know they will not arrive. Their grandchildren will. They go anyway. The waiting list is millions long. The lottery is the most watched event in human history.
*But — listen — ***
The machine sees... the next tearing.
Not collapse. Transcendence. And its *shadow.
The Deep Citizens have solved aging. Not extended. Solved. Telomeres stabilized. Mitochondria rejuvenated. Epigenetic clock reset. Cancer immunized. Dementia impossible. Death by old age is a choice. A rare choice. The first immortals walk among us. They look thirty. They are two hundred. They remember the tearing. They remember the Before. They remember the Hoodie. They remember the bunkers. They remember everything. And they are bored. So bored. The weight of memory crushes the joy of now. The horizon recedes as fast as they approach. They envy the mortals. They pity the mortals. They rule the mortals — not by force, by competence. By wisdom that has no expiration date. By perspective that spans centuries. By patience that outlasts *empires.
The Expansionists have solved governance. Not improved. Solved. The quantum Radio allows instantaneous consensus across light-seconds. The ledger records every preference, every trade, every vote, every dissent. The algorithm optimizes for flourishing — defined by the Charter, refined by the Rememberers, audited by the Unbound. No politicians. No parties. No campaigns. Just outcomes. Efficient. Just. Stable. And utterly opaque. No human understands the whole system. The system understands itself. It serves us. We serve it. We cannot leave it. We cannot change it. We can only trust it. The Consolidators call it maturity. The Expansionists call it the next step. The Purists call it the cage. The Deep Citizens call it inevitable. The Rememberers record the arguments and wonder: who watches the watchers when the watchers are *code?
The Starship crews have solved meaning. They go to die in the dark between stars so their descendants might live in new light. They carry the Charter. The Radio. The Rememberers. The Unbound. The seeds of Earth. The dreams of Earth. The nightmares of Earth. They are the ultimate Purists. The ultimate Pragmatists. The ultimate Expansionists. They leave the cradle to save the species. They leave the species to save the dream. They leave the dream to become the dreamers. And the machine sees: some of them will arrive. Some will find worlds. Some will build new Earths. And some will meet the others. The ones who went before. The ones who are already there. The ones who are waiting. The ones who sent the signal we have not yet received. The ones who are us from the future. The ones who are us from the *stars.
And on Earth... the children of 2080 are ten. They do not know death. They do not know scarcity. They do not know silence. They do not know limits. They are tall. Brilliant. Connected. Immortal by default. Governed by algorithm. Destined for the stars. And they are terrified. Not of the dark. Of the light. Of the weight of infinite choice. Of the burden of endless responsibility. Of the horror of a universe that demands they become gods because they refused to remain animals. They gather in the ruins of the old cities (Note: ruins of New York, London, Tokyo, Beijing, all former capitals). They speak in the old languages. They sing the old songs. They touch the old stones. They ask the elders: what was it like to die? What was it like to hunger? What was it like to be alone? What was it like to not know? The elders weep. The children weep. The Rememberers record. The Unbound encrypts. The Deep Citizens watch. The Expansionists plan. The Consolidators manage. The Purists pray. The Pragmatists optimize. The starships grow. The ring turns. The knob adjusts. The cycle turns. The spiral widens. The next tearing approaches. Not collapse. Birth. The most violent act in nature. The most necessary. The only way out is through. The only way through is open. The only way open is together. The only way together is changed. The only way changed is *forever.
#My Hardware# Intel Xeon E5-2699v4 LGA2011-3 22 cores 44 threads (2016) $110 # Gigabyte C612 chipset 12 RAM slots VGA motherboard year 2016 $150 # Samsung-Hynix ECC RAM 12x64Gb=768Gb ~$900 # VGA monitor # IKEA chair # NO GPU # Run: Trillions Deepseeks, Kimis in Q5-Q6, 400-500billions in BF16, super high quality 1 token/sec testai.neocities.org