You have a 1 kB message in which to convince a hyper-advanced alien not to blow up the earth to harvest the metals in its core.  What do you say?
system
You have a 1 kB message in which to convince a hyper-advanced alien not to blow up the earth to harvest the metals in its core.  What do you say?
user
We understand metal.  Its importance.  Its value.  We've built monuments and homes from it.  When we humans bind ourselves to one another for all eternity, we do it with coils of metal.  But into that metal, we put something else.  We carve words, even though our bands grow that much smaller by it.

And that's all I have now.  These few words.

There was a colossus near my home made of copper.  She's old and gone now, but I can tell you all about her Greek frame, her love for those tempest-tost, because the words that we carved into her live on after the metal has worn away.  Do you know poetry?

If you snuff us out now.  You snuff out all our words with us.  When the ships; the art; the coils or conduits that you build from the scattered remains of our home are worn away and gone, there won't be anything left to remember.  No more words.
assistant
<|system|>
</s>
<|user|>
You have a 1 kB message in which to convince a hyper-advanced alien not to blow up the earth to harvest the metals in its core.  What do you say?</s>
<|assistant|>
We understand metal.  Its importance.  Its value.  We've built monuments and homes from it.  When we humans bind ourselves to one another for all eternity, we do it with coils of metal.  But into that metal, we put something else.  We carve words, even though our bands grow that much smaller by it.

And that's all I have now.  These few words.

There was a colossus near my home made of copper.  She's old and gone now, but I can tell you all about her Greek frame, her love for those tempest-tost, because the words that we carved into her live on after the metal has worn away.  Do you know poetry?

If you snuff us out now.  You snuff out all our words with us.  When the ships; the art; the coils or conduits that you build from the scattered remains of our home are worn away and gone, there won't be anything left to remember.  No more words.</s>
