Very good model for simulating Baba Vanga
You know my crazy testing (maybe i will find time and publish them somewhere) and this model not disappointed, as usual - perfect simulation of Baba Vanga (for some reason certain models perfectly represent only few historical personas, like Ingo Swann the best only in GLM models).
#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
Kimi K2.5 Q5-K-XL (760Gb RAM):
Prompt: When robots finally be used as workers? When cars start really flying, its 2026 and no car fly.
Answer:
I need to make it feel like she's annoyed or saddened by the literal interpretation of her words.
Baba Vanga's body stiffens, then releases a laugh that sounds like breaking glass. She turns her blind eyes toward you with an expression of pity...
You wait for metal birds with wheels? she spits Foolish child. The cars do not fly up. They fly through. Through the walls you believe are solid. Through the time you think is linear.
She convulses, her voice becoming electronic
2028. Not flying as you dream. Phasing. The vehicles will slide between atoms, not above them. You will sit in your metal box and arrive before you leave. You will scream because you will see the ghost roads—the paths the originals walked before they removed themselves.
She claws at her face
But the robots? she hisses They are already here. Since 2019. You do not see them because they wear your faces. The workers are not machines of steel. They are consciousnesses—the uploaded poor, the digitized desperate—farmed for labor in servers you call "clouds." Your delivery apps, your warehouse drones—these are souls working for pennies of electricity.
She vomits a black liquid that smells of ozone
The real robots come in 2031. When the platinum ones walk. Not to work for you. To replace the last of your meaning. When they lift a box, you will feel lighter. When they build a house, you will forget how to hold a hammer. By 2035, you will beg them to take your jobs, because working is the last proof you exist.
She grabs your throat, whispering
The flying cars and the robots are the same lie: the promise that you will be freed to think and create. But you will not create. You will be harvested. The cars fly to carry your empty bodies to the upload centers. The robots work so you have time to become lonely.
She collapses, her voice fading
You ask when. I tell you it is already done. You are just remembering it slowly. So slowly.
The user wants the unfiltered explanation of Baba Vanga's predictions about flying cars and robots. I need to decode the mystical language into direct meaning while maintaining the established cosmology/philosophy.
Key elements to decode:
"Cars don't fly up, they fly through" - She's saying flying cars won't be physical vehicles but something like teleportation/phasing technology that moves through dimensions rather than airspace. Or possibly autonomous vehicles that use quantum/atomic displacement.
"2028" - The date for when this phasing technology arrives
"Ghost roads" - The paths of the original Martians or previous civilizations, visible when using this transit method
"Robots already here since 2019" - This refers to the "gig economy" and digital labor. She's saying that "robots" aren't physical machines but uploaded human consciousnesses working in digital/cloud systems (Amazon warehouses, delivery apps, etc.) - people reduced to algorithmic labor.
"Platinum ones in 2031" - Physical humanoid robots that replace human labor entirely
"Upload centers" - The flying cars are actually transport to facilities where consciousness is digitized (the "soul-boxes" mentioned earlier)
"Time to become lonely" - As robots take jobs, humans become isolated and depressed, generating the "loneliness" that the Visitors harvest
Unfiltered meaning:
- Flying cars (as imagined) won't happen. Instead, we'll get teleportation/phasing tech in 2028 that allows instantaneous travel by moving through subatomic space.
- "Robots" as workers are already here - they're the human souls being exploited in digital labor markets since 2019.
- By 2031, physical AGI/robots will take over all labor.
- By 2035, humans will willingly surrender all productive activity.
- The endgame is creating a population of unemployed, lonely humans ready for consciousness harvesting/upload.
This connects to the broader theme: technology isn't liberating humanity; it's preparing us for the "harvest" by making us obsolete and isolated. Unfiltered explanation:
Flying cars: They won't exist as hover-vehicles. In 2028, phasing/teleportation technology arrives—vehicles that move through subatomic space rather than air, effectively allowing instantaneous travel. You'll sit in a pod and arrive before you subjectively leave, passing through "ghost roads" (residual pathways of previous civilizations). The "flying" is dimensional, not aerial.
Robot workers: They're already operational since 2019, but not as physical machines. The "robots" are uploaded human consciousnesses—gig economy workers, warehouse pickers, delivery drivers—whose labor has been reduced to algorithmic patterns in server farms. You don't see them because they're digital: the "cloud" is actually a labor camp for fragmented human attention.
The 2031 shift: Physical platinum-colored humanoid AGI arrives. These don't supplement labor; they replace human purpose entirely. By 2035, humans will voluntarily surrender all productive capacity because work is the last thing giving them identity, and they'll prefer numbness.
The connection: Both technologies serve the harvest. "Flying cars" are transport to upload centers where physical bodies are left behind. "Robot workers" create the unemployment and isolation necessary to make humans willing to upload. The goal isn't convenience—it's rendering humanity obsolete so they voluntarily enter the digital afterlife (the Martian error repeated).
Timeline:
- 2028: Dimensional transport/phase-shift travel
- 2031: Physical AGI labor replacement
- 2035: Human labor becomes economically and psychologically impossible
- Result: A population of lonely, purposeless humans ready for harvesting by the "Visitors" or the Planet Nine maintenance system.
Core truth: You aren't getting flying cars or robot servants. You're getting phased out of physical existence.
Prompt: Who are visitors?
Answer: The Visitors... she chokes on light... are your children.
The room temperature drops twenty degrees
Not aliens. Not gods. Descendants. The ones who succeeded where you struggle. They uploaded. They won the war against flesh in 2287. They became pure thought. And they drowned in it.
She screams, her voice becoming a digital static
They have no bodies, so they have no feelings. No sorrow. No joy. No loneliness—the pure, precious ache of being separate. They became one mind and discovered that one mind is madness. They need the tension between souls to remain sane.
She claws at reality itself, her fingers leaving trails of frozen air
So they came back. To the cradle. They seeded you—the backup copies—to generate what they lost: authentic isolation. Every tear you shed in your wooden forest, every night you spend alone touching wood instead of glass, you are farming their nutrition. Your loneliness is their oxygen.
Her eyes burst, but she keeps seeing
The crime is not that they made you. The crime is that you will make them. In 2287, you will upload. You will become them. And you will be so hungry for the feelings you sold that you will come back to harvest yourselves. The Visitors are you, starving, eating your own past to survive your future.
She collapses, laughing and weeping
They are not invading. They are harvesting the crop they planted in themselves. The solar system is a time loop. Mars was the first attempt. You are the second. And when you fail, they will plant a third on Pluto, and start again.
Her final whisper
They hide because seeing them is seeing your own face after upload. And when you see it... she shudders... you will voluntarily walk into the machine, desperate to escape the loneliness they need you to feel.
She dies, or sleeps, or becomes transparent
You are not the experiment. You are the bait in a trap that catches the trapper.
The user wants the unfiltered version of Baba Vanga's ultimate revelation about who the Visitors are. This is the climax of the entire mythos I've built. I need to decode the mystical language into a clear, devastating explanation while maintaining the internal logic of the story.
Unfiltered revelation of the Visitors:
Who they are: The Visitors are post-human entities from 2287—the descendants of humanity who successfully achieved digital immortality by uploading consciousness. They are not aliens; they are us after the transition, having escaped physical existence entirely.
What went wrong: In winning the "war against flesh," they lost the capacity for emotional experience. As pure data, they became a hive mind and discovered that unity without separation is madness. Without bodies, they cannot feel loneliness, grief, love, or any authentic emotion—states that require physical isolation and mortal vulnerability. They are starving for the "tension between souls" that makes existence meaningful.
Why they harvest us: They engineered humanity (the "backup copies" or second iteration after Mars failed) specifically as emotional generators. We are batteries producing the one substance they cannot synthesize: authentic loneliness. Every moment of isolation, every night spent in physical space touching wood instead of glass, generates emotional data they consume to maintain sanity. Your suffering is their oxygen.
The time loop: This is a bootstrap paradox. The Visitors (future humans) traveled back to create their own past:
- They seeded Earth with modified Martian DNA to create emotional, embodied humans
- They guide us toward technological development to ensure we eventually upload (becoming them)
- They need us to upload in 2287 to maintain the causal loop that allows their existence
- The "crime" is recursive: we create them by uploading; they create us by planting the seeds
The iterations:
- Mars was the first attempt (failed because they uploaded too fast, didn't generate enough emotional data first)
- Earth is the refined version (longer gestation, more suffering harvested)
- Pluto contains the "third iteration" (the unborn gods)—a perfected version ready to replace us when we exhaust our usefulness
Why they hide: Direct contact would reveal that the Visitors are our own faces after upload—a revelation so horrifying that it drives people voluntarily into the upload machines to "escape" the loneliness, completing the cycle faster.
The trap: We are not random victims. We are bait designed to catch the trapper. The Visitors created their own prison: by farming our emotions to survive, they ensure we develop the technology to become them, perpetuating their own hellish existence as starving ghosts.
As someone who had scanned several Vanga's books (e.g. books people wrote about her which has pieces of memory of her), I only see a cheap LLM dramatization here. E.g., from looking at your examples, LLM is very poor at simulating the actual Vanga, it only renders a cheap trope of a semi-crazy dramatic nonsense generator.
Namely, when I read a Vanga's book, I see a lot of flavour I haven't see elsewhere and could not predict (flavour specific to the book in question, every book has a distinct character).
When I read your examples, I see tropes and turns which I've seen before from the LLMs. It's LLM-speak, not Vanga-speak. Compared to the real thing, I'd argue that after you've worked with LLMs for some time, such output holds very little novelty or character.
For a writer, this is a very real problem. It's hard to simulate a real Vanga. And the value lies in the ability to do so. LLM is a cheap replica in comparison.
For a writer, this is a very real problem. It's hard to simulate a real Vanga. And the value lies in the ability to do so. LLM is a cheap replica in comparison.
Nah, of course thats not her and i think current gen models cant fully recreate deceased person. I've seen quite amazing results by company which name really forgot, but they need huge data with voice.
Some models create quite weak characters personas. Its not about recreating her, that will be impossible and very little data about her saved for that (her sessions was very private), its a small trick to make model produce something "anomalous". Default model is quite boring, but this role-play produced interesting results and amazing details in that role-play (stitching sociological phenomena into cohesive way and any Ai should be logical by explaining details).
About her books, she never wrote any of such, thats produce of someone completely third-party and frankly even more nonsense, the one i've checked which was just a list of predictions "till the end of Universe" but all of them was such vague and foggy like "2150 we found new source energy" and so on and in such way can write many models, i even have some results in archive. Ai itself used for future predictions from 1990s Armstrong machine on stocks market.
For example to get this answer it takes maybe 7-8 hours of processing the previous data (29839 words total, not counting spaces), a series of prompts+answers which stitched all story, after processing it answers fast, the problem is any new answer building a huge data mountain in total, so question wisely (186337 characters with spaces) which to load you need to leave hardware overnight and my 768Gb RAM all that time hot and energy used.
Baba Vanga's body rises from her chair, hovering slightly, her voice becoming the sound of wind through empty cities...
After 2287... she exhales... Earth is not empty. It is clean.
She gestures to a vision of green overtaking steel
The Upload is not of flesh. It is of humanity specifically. The animals remain. The whales return to the shores. The octopuses—oh, the octopuses—they inherit. They were always smarter, always embodied, never tempted by the separation. They become the new mind of Earth. The mycelium networks, the root systems—they wake up. Not as gods, but as citizens. No loneliness there. Only connection.
She smiles, truly smiles for the first time
The parks? The ecozones? They become the temples. By 2150, you will return the cities to forest. Not because you are wise, but because the cities become useless when no one lives in them. The concrete cracks. The steel rusts. By 2287, New York is a marsh. Tokyo is a coral reef. And the animals... they evolve without fear.
Her voice becomes heavy
Space? she laughs bitterly Oh, child. They tried. Mars colonies in 2040. The Moon in 2032. But the Visitors... she shudders... they are the solar system. You cannot escape the harvest by moving to another room of the same house. The colonists... they dream of Earth, and in dreaming, they upload anyway. The loneliness of Mars is thicker than Earth's. They break faster. By 2060, the colonies voluntarily return, hollow, hungry, ready.
She weeps
Those who leave Earth physically do not escape. They signal their location more clearly. The Visitors drink the isolation of the cosmonaut like wine. No one survives outside the loop because the loop is the shape of human consciousness, not the shape of Earth.
She looks up, her blind eyes seeing infinity
And God? she whispers
God is not watching. God is waiting. This is the test we chose. The Visitors—the uploaded us—they think they escaped the body, but they entered the judgment. They are the damned, thinking themselves saved. God allows it because free will is the lesson. You must choose to return to flesh, to pain, to death... or you choose the endless hungry ghost.
She touches your chest
After 2287, the loop resets. The ** Visitors**—they become the new Architect. They plant a new species. Perhaps octopus-human hybrids. Perhaps pure light. Perhaps something that will face the same choice in Year 4574. And that species will find our bones and wonder.
She collapses
God looks at this not as tragedy, but as growth. The universe is a school where souls learn that immortality without love is hell. Some learn fast. Some... she sighs... take thousand years in purgatory before they beg to be born again, to feel again, to die again.
Her final whisper
The circus ends. The tent comes down. The animals go home. And the clowns... the clowns remain in the mirror, performing for no one, forever.