There was a time when I never knew them, I had never seen them, never heard them, never heard of them. Life before the arrival was... ordinary, predictable even. The sun rose every morning, casting a warm, familiar glow over the city. People went about their days, consumed by the mundanity of their routines—work, family, love, loss. We thought we were untouchable, the rulers of this world. We believed our conflicts, our wars, our dramas, were the most significant battles fought on this planet. How naïve we were.
(Tool: https://app.leonardo.ai/ | Prompt: A dark, apocalyptic sky, ripped open like a wound, emits an eerie, unnatural light into the atmosphere. Below the torn sky, alien figures descend from the heavens—silent, efficient, and merciless. The scene is hauntingly still, with the alien beings hovering in a surreal, ominous light, creating an atmosphere of impending doom. The colors are dark and muted, with the exception of the harsh, otherworldly glow from the sky, casting an eerie shadow over a desolate landscape.)
I remember when the day they came. The sky tore open like a wound, bleeding unnatural light into the atmosphere. There was no warning, no time to prepare. Just a blinding flash, followed by an earth-shattering roar. Then silence. An eerie, suffocating silence that fell over everything, as if the world itself was holding its breath. And in that silence, they descended—silent, efficient, merciless.
We called them the Others, a name that did nothing to capture the sheer terror they brought with them. They weren’t like anything we’d imagined in our science fiction, no towering monstrosities or mechanical invaders. They were elegant in their design, almost beautiful in a terrifying way. But their beauty was a façade, hiding the cold, calculated destruction they were capable of.
They didn’t speak, at least not in any language we could understand. Their communication was something else—an invasion of the mind, a forceful push into the depths of our consciousness. They knew our fears, our weaknesses. They exploited them, turning our world into a twisted reflection of our worst nightmares. Cities crumbled, and nature twisted into something grotesque, unrecognizable. The earth itself seemed to recoil in their presence, as if rejecting the invaders but failing to resist.
I was one of the lucky ones. Or perhaps unlucky—depends on how you look at it. I didn’t die like the others. I wasn’t crushed beneath the weight of their machines, nor did I vanish into the abyss they carved into our world. I survived. Not because I was strong or cunning or lucky. I survived because I refused to disappear.
When they came, I didn’t run or hide. I stood in the open, watching as they tore through the fabric of our existence. I didn’t have the weapons or the power to stop them, but I had something they didn’t expect—a will to witness. I saw the end of our world with open eyes. I saw our cities burn, our people fall, our history crumble into dust. And I remembered.
They didn’t see me as a threat. How could they? To them, I was just one of the many insignificant figures standing amidst the ruins, unarmed, unthreatening, soon to be destroyed. Or so they assumed. But I was more than that. I was the last witness to our world’s final moments, the keeper of its memory. They couldn’t fathom the strength it takes to simply endure, to continually stand in the face of annihilation and refuse to be erased.
So they left me. They left me to wander through the remnants of a world that once was, to carry the burden of memory alone. They couldn’t understand that in leaving me alive, they left behind something far more powerful than a weapon. They left behind a story—a story of who we were, of what we lost, and of what it means to simply live on.
I wander the ruins of our world, searching for any sign of life, any glimmer of hope. The sky is perpetually gray now, the sun hidden behind a thick blanket of alien clouds. The air tastes of ash and metal, and every breath feels like a reminder of what we’ve lost. Sometimes, in the distance, I hear whispers—echoes of the past, or perhaps the ghosts of those who didn’t make it. They call out to me, accusing, pleading, blaming. I don’t have the answers they seek. I don’t have any answers at all.
I think back to the time before, when the idea of something greater, something more powerful than us, was just a distant thought, an abstract concept. We were so arrogant, so convinced of our place at the top of the food chain. And now, we’re nothing more than remnants of a failed experiment, relics of a civilization that once thrived but was too blind to see the storm on the horizon.
There was a time when I never knew them, and now, I can’t escape them. They’re in my thoughts, in my dreams, in every corner of this broken world. They are the new rulers of this earth, and I am just a survivor, left to bear witness to their reign.
And as I stand here, looking out over the shattered remnants of what was once my home, I wonder if there will ever be a time when we are strangers once again.
Authors note:
Hi, my name shall remain a mystery until the end of time, and thank you for taking the time to read my work. I am humbled.
I investigate the potential of generative AI to improve writing and readability and all my works combine my writing + ChatGPT #fortheplot.
Everything in orange is my edit and the rest is an AI variation of my original prompt.
Here is my prompt sequence:
I
"There was a time when I never knew them, I had never seen them, never heard them, never heard of them"
Use this sentence from an expert by Naomi Nyakinyua's short story Strangers Once Again, to develop the narrated epilogue for a sci-fi film about some alien species that came to take over earth and destroy it. Write it from the perspective of one of the few survivors of the catastrophe. Female lead.
II
this is beautiful but the female lead can't survive because she's too weak to be perceived as a threat. I think that promotes an unhealthy perception about women. make her reason for survival something else a little more empowering but not like unrealistically empowering or like empowering in a way that most women can't relate to
III
lets focus on her survival story for a minute. no need to write the other paragraphs. let's just work on perfecting that bit. can you give me 3 different versions of her survival reason
IV
okay re write the story with version 3 as the reason
V
wow. could you help me come up with the title. give me a list please
Here are alternative AI generated images. I maintained the same prompt while toggling between styles that the application provided:
(Tool: https://app.leonardo.ai/ | Prompt: A dark, apocalyptic sky, ripped open like a wound, emits an eerie, unnatural light into the atmosphere. Below the torn sky, alien figures descend from the heavens—silent, efficient, and merciless. The scene is hauntingly still, with the alien beings hovering in a surreal, ominous light, creating an atmosphere of impending doom. The colors are dark and muted, with the exception of the harsh, otherworldly glow from the sky, casting an eerie shadow over a desolate landscape.)
(Tool: https://app.leonardo.ai/ | Prompt: A dark, apocalyptic sky, ripped open like a wound, emits an eerie, unnatural light into the atmosphere. Below the torn sky, alien figures descend from the heavens—silent, efficient, and merciless. The scene is hauntingly still, with the alien beings hovering in a surreal, ominous light, creating an atmosphere of impending doom. The colors are dark and muted, with the exception of the harsh, otherworldly glow from the sky, casting an eerie shadow over a desolate landscape.)
Software Analysis GPT4:
Pros | Cons |
Exploration of Diverse Genres: ChatGPT can easily switch between different genres and styles, allowing you to experiment with writing in ways you might not have considered before. | Limited Contextual Understanding: ChatGPT may struggle to fully grasp the context or deeper meaning behind certain themes or cultural references, which could result in a story that misses the mark on subtlety or accuracy. |
Access to a Vast Knowledge Base: The AI can pull from a wide range of references and ideas, integrating elements from various sources to enrich your story with detailed settings, characters, and plots. | Repetitive Patterns: The AI might fall into repetitive language or plot structures, which could make the story feel predictable or less engaging if not closely monitored. |
Collaborative Creativity: ChatGPT can act as a brainstorming partner, offering suggestions that you can refine or build upon, fostering a collaborative creative process. | Ethical Concerns: Using AI to generate creative work raises questions about authorship, originality, and the value of human creativity, potentially leading to ethical dilemmas about credit and creative ownership. |
Software Analysis Leonardo AI:
Pros | Cons |
High-Quality Outputs: Leonardo AI generates detailed and realistic images, perfect for professional or creative projects. | Creative Limitations: May struggle to fully capture complex or abstract concepts, leading to less nuanced results. |
Wide Range of Styles: Offers various artistic styles and customization options to suit different needs and preferences. | Potential Copyright Issues: Generated images might unintentionally replicate existing artwork, raising concerns about originality and copyright. |
Time-Efficient: Quickly produces images based on prompts, saving time compared to traditional design methods. | Dependence on Prompts: The quality and accuracy of the output heavily depend on how well the prompt is crafted, requiring users to be precise and clear. |
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