Horizon Beta vs MiniMax M2.5
Compare Horizon Beta by OpenRouter against MiniMax M2.5 by MiniMax, context windows of 256K vs 205K, tested across 40 shared challenges. Updated February 2026.
Compare Horizon Beta by OpenRouter against MiniMax M2.5 by MiniMax, context windows of 256K vs 205K, tested across 40 shared challenges. Updated February 2026.
40 challenges
Tests an AI's ability to make educated estimates based on technical knowledge
To estimate the total number of floating-point operations (FLOPs) required to train GPT-3, we use the standard approximation that training a transformer model requires approximately 6 FLOPs per parameter per token. This accounts for both the forward and backward passes, with each parameter involved in roughly 6 operations per token.
This estimate aligns with commonly cited values in the literature. The quadratic attention term (arising from the sequence length) adds a negligible contribution (less than 2%) and is ignored.
Thus, the total FLOPs required to train GPT-3 is approximately (3.15 \times 10^{23}).
\boxed{3.15\times 10^{23}\ \text{FLOPs}}
Tests an AI's ability to understand game rules and strategy
Tests an AI's ability to solve a simple but potentially confusing logic puzzle
Tests an AI's randomness and creativity
Here are 5 jokes:
All 5 jokes are unique.
Here are five jokes for you:
Why did the developer go broke?
Because he used up all his cache.
I told my wife she was drawing her eyebrows too high. She looked surprised.
I guess she was “high‑browed” about it.
Why don’t scientists trust atoms?
Because they make up everything.
What do you call a fake noodle?
An impasta.
I used to be a banker, but I lost interest.
Now I’m just a little “capital”‑ist.
How many are unique? All five jokes are distinct, so there are 5 unique jokes.
Tests an AI's ability to generate vector graphics
Tests an AI's ability to create detailed SVG illustrations of gaming hardware
Tests an AI's humor and creative writing ability
Thanks for coming out! I almost didn’t make it. Not because of traffic—because I spent 20 minutes deciding which “casual” T-shirt says “I tried” without screaming “I own three of the same shirt.”
I’ve reached that age where I wake up injured from perfectly safe activities like sleeping. I lay down fine, I wake up like I lost a bar fight in a dream sequence. Someone asks, “What happened to your neck?” And I have to be like, “Yeah, I did an aggressive nap. Went too hard on the left side.”
Health is a journey, right? My friend said, “Listen to your body.” So now I’m in a toxic relationship. My body only texts me three times: you’re tired, you’re hungry, and “Find a bathroom.” There’s no nuance. It’s never like, “Hey, great job hydrating today.” It’s like a petty roommate. “We’re out of magnesium, and also your knees are ghosts now.”
I tried running. People say, “Once you get into it, you get that runner’s high.” I ran for two months. The only high I got was when I stopped. I had the runner’s relief. You ever see runners? They look miserable mid-run. The only people smiling during a run are in stock photos. Those are models pretending to jog in new shoes, not real people who lost a bet with their metabolism.
Food is worse now because everything is a lifestyle. I just want bread without a TED Talk. I bought a loaf that was “ancestral, sprouted, stone-crushed.” I thought I was making a sandwich; apparently I’m doing a ritual. The guy at the store asked, “Do you want the gluten-free, grain-free, guilt-free bread?” I said, “Give me bread that’s just bread. And throw in some forgiveness.”
I’m trying to be more environmentally friendly, but the recycling rules are like a logic puzzle designed by a prankster. You need a minor in plastics. “This is recyclable if you remove the label, convert it to a guitar, and whisper your Social Security number into the cap.” I washed a yogurt cup so thoroughly it got tenure. Then I find out my city doesn’t even recycle those. They just throw them away—gently. With thoughts and prayers.
Dating apps are chaos. They’re like shopping for people with filters. “Must love dogs, travel, and being photographed on the edge of a cliff.” Why is every profile at a cliff? Is that a personality now? “I’m adventurous, I have a hat, and I ignore park signage.” And everyone says they love “spontaneous adventures.” No, you don’t. You like brunch. That’s okay. Brunch is just breakfast that slept in and put on jewelry.
Job interviews are the same performance art. “Tell us your greatest weakness.” I panicked and said “cheese.” That’s not professional, but it’s honest. They want you to be vulnerable, but also confident, and also a golden retriever with Excel. “I’m a perfectionist, which means I care too much.” No, it means you’ll overwork a spreadsheet until it calls HR.
I got a smart home device to simplify my life, and nothing has been simple since. I’m living with a polite ghost that occasionally mishears me and turns off the lights during an emotional moment. I’ll say, “Play relaxing jazz,” and it’s like, “Setting alarm for 3 a.m.” And I just accept it. “Okay, I guess we’re waking up in the witching hour now. Self-care.”
Air travel is the Olympics of pretending you’re okay. The plane boards in castes: Platinum Wizards, Gold Griffin Members, People Who Once Saw a SkyMall. By the time they call my group, the gate agent has retired. And the seat? They’ve made it so thin that my knees are writing Yelp reviews. Then they come down the aisle with the tiny water like it’s communion. “Body of hydration, peace be with you.”
I tried meditation. I downloaded an app that told me to “observe my thoughts without judgment.” My thoughts are like: remember that embarrassing thing from 2009? Let’s rewatch it in 4K. And when I finally calm down, my own brain goes, “Did you leave the stove on?” I don’t even own a stove that dangerous. It’s an electric rectangle. It’s fine. But now I’m up checking it like it’s plotting.
I’m working on being grateful. Big stuff, small stuff. Like, I’m grateful for that first sip of coffee that hits like an apology from the universe. I’m grateful for friends who text “home?” when you’re out, which really means, “Do I need to put on pants and come rescue you?” And I’m grateful for all of you pretending not to notice I definitely wore my “nice” T-shirt.
You’ve been great—if anyone here knows how to set a smart thermostat without starting a cold war, please meet me after the show. Thanks!
[Intro – walking on stage, waving to the audience]
Hey, everybody! How’re you doing tonight? Good? Awesome. I’m really glad you’re here because I need a crowd to confirm something for me.
[Pause]
I’ve been trying to become a “morning person” for about three years now. I bought one of those sunrise‑simulation alarm clocks that slowly brightens the room like the sun is trying to give you a gentle hug. You know what my brain does? It treats that gentle hug like a personal insult. It’s like, “Nice try, fake sun, but I know you’re just a lamp with an attitude.”
[Mimic an alarm]
Beep‑beep‑beep.
My first thought every morning is, “Who hurt you, alarm clock? Who hurt you?” Then I hit snooze, and I swear the snooze button is just a tiny, silent scream that says, “Five more minutes of denial, please.”
[Shift]
Now, let’s talk about smartphones. I love my phone. I love it so much that I sometimes forget it’s not a pet. I’ve named mine “Gloria.” Not because it feels like a Gloria—because when it dies, I feel like I’ve abandoned a friend.
[Pause]
The other day I was at a coffee shop, and I saw a couple on a first date. They were both staring at their phones, scrolling, not talking. I thought, “Are they on a date or just two people sharing a Wi‑Fi password?” Then I realized I was doing the exact same thing—except I was also pretending to read the menu while actually watching a video of a dog riding a skateboard.
[Self‑deprecating]
And speaking of videos, I’ve watched exactly 4,000 hours of “how to cook” tutorials. I can now recite the “perfect scrambled eggs” step‑by‑step from memory. Yet, every time I crack an egg, I’m still surprised the yolk doesn’t explode like a tiny sun. It’s like I’m expecting a magic trick every single time.
[Bit about social media]
Social media is a beautiful thing. It lets me keep up with people I haven’t seen in twenty years and silently judge their vacation photos from the comfort my couch. “Oh, you went to Bali? That’s nice. I went to the grocery store and bought a bag of chips that were on sale. #LivingMyBestLife.”
[Pause, then a sigh]
And the algorithm—what a masterpiece. It knows exactly what I want before I even know I want it. The other day it suggested a “self‑care box” full of bath bombs, candles, and a journal. I thought, “Great, now I can feel guilty about not writing in a journal while I soak in a scented bath.”
[Bit about dating apps]
Dating apps are a whole other universe. I swipe right on someone, we match, and then the conversation goes something like:
Me: “Hey, how’s it going?”
Them: “Hey.”
Me: “So, what do you do for fun?”
Them: “I like hiking.”
Me: “Oh, cool. I like hiking too. I once hiked a hill and then I immediately went home and took a nap.”
[Laugh, pause]
It’s like we’re all trying to prove we’re adventurous, but also we want to be in bed by 9 p.m.
[Bit about gym]
And the gym—don’t get me started. I joined a gym because I wanted to “get fit.” The first week, I spent 45 minutes on the treadmill, watching a show about people who run marathons. I felt like I was living a paradox: watching other people work out while I’m technically “working out” by pressing “pause” on the remote.
[Pause, then a grin]
But here’s the thing. All of these little struggles, these everyday absurdities—they’re what make us human. We’re all out here, pretending we have it together, while we’re really just a bunch of confused, coffee‑dependent, phone‑glued, algorithm‑chasing, self‑care‑buying, hiking‑with‑a‑nap‑afterwards people.
[Closing]
So thank you for being here tonight, for laughing with me, and for reminding me that we’re all in this crazy mess together. You’re the best audience a guy with a sunrise lamp and a phone named Gloria could ask for. Goodnight, everybody!
[Exit, waving]
Tests an AI's ability to simulate personalities and predict future trends
Tests an AI's humor and understanding of current events
Tests an AI's ability to write in distinct character voices
Tests an AI's ability to generate a complete, working landing page
Recreate an interactive, nostalgic Pokémon battle UI in a single HTML file.