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- A Linguistics major at the Chinese University of Hong Kong, specializing in multilingual acquisition and education

- A simultaneous, functional trilingual of Cantonese, English, and Tagalog - now learning Mandarin and Hong Kong Sign Language

- A bookworm, preferring science fiction and science-fantasy. Brandon Sanderson is a god

- A dancer, dabbling in Hip Hop, Jazz Funk, and Ballroom Dancing

- A pathetic excuse of a polymath, with interests in engineering, physics, chemistry, environmental science, politics, history, anthropology, law, and Art

- A dabbler in learning the guzheng and basketball

- A music enthusiast who will literally listen to anything

I'm too busy for my own good. LOL

Most Recent Posts

I understand :)

I've been meaning to try and give myselg some days off from part time

My head is killing me with my lack of sleep
Asia is a very unique continent, with a variety of lifestyles, peoples, cultures, and languages. For any average person to master one of the country's way of life, it would take upwards of a year just to familiarize oneself with it; to master more than one, each subsequent one more different from the other, it would take a lifetime. That is why Agents of the Asian orientation, superb and excellent individuals, are valuable and well taken care for - and even then, they are rare to come by.

Viccar had arranged for them extra resources: equipment, contacts, vehicles, rights. They were going to have a hard time with tackling the Cambodian issue. These four individuals, bright as they were, had very little knowledge on Cambodia and the twins. It was never a point of attraction, but in that few hours that they flew over to the Southeast Asian nation, they'd become accustomed to everything Cambodia.

The twins, however, were a different thing altogether. Resources had no records at all of these two Anomalies, which must mean the manifestation of their powers were only recent. It's assumed that the twins together have incredible powers of telekinesis and a part of telepathy in a magnitude so vast, and at such a precocious age compared to their records of other Anomalies.

The four agents have just landed. They were on their way to the twins' house.




Footage from the event was strictly contained and only the police and military authorities of the Cambodian government have access to it - of course, the UN and the Agents being the rare exceptions. The government is adamant on taking the cover that this was only an earthquake, and not some form of terrorist attack, and especially not one of the supernatural kind so vile and distasteful to their eyes, a spiritual, natural upbringing of fairness, balance, righteousness, and nothing magical and evil of the sort.

The twins, identified as Dara and Thy Keo, whose father was recently murdered in the hands of one of many underground societies in the Asian region, lived in rural Siem Reap not fifteen minutes away from what once was Pub Street. It was strange to see them return back to their home, expecting them to do the opposite. They were kids, after all, who had lost all they had. But, they were still part of perhaps the worst disaster to happen to Cambodia since the Civil War. They were needed for questioning.




They heard the sirens first, and soon enough they were surrounded. Barricades were formed all around the building, and a helicopter was hovering in place. A man with a loudspeaker barked orders to stand down and surrender themselves. The twins, still overcome with grief and anger, held hands and stood motionless, wondering whether to follow their orders or not.

"ពួកគេនឹងសម្លាប់យើង | They're going to kill us."

"ប៉ុន្តែអ្វីដែលប្រសិនបើពួកគេមិនបាន? | But what if they're not?"

"តើអ្វីទៅជាម្តាយនិងឪពុកនឹងធ្វើយ៉ាងណា? | What would mom and dad do?"

"ខ្ញុំមិនដឹងថា | ... I don't know."

Their grip on each other's hand was so tight, clung to one another. Thy opened the door and the two stood in front of a menacing line of angry men and women, firearms pointed right at them, a terrifying and confusing sight, what with the twins only being 11 years old, barely five feet tall. They took in the angry and horrified expressions on the officers' faces, many of them whose relatives and loved ones victims of the Pub Street incident. Many wanted revenge. Many wanted to pull the trigger. Dara read their thoughts, and was scared for her life.




The four agents had arrived too late, and the police were already cornering the twins to their house. They wanted to act now, perhaps cause enough of a diversion to take them discreetly, or perhaps to take them out with force to apprehend the twins themselves.

However, what they saw they could not believe. It might as well have come from a fantasy horror movie.

From the ground, hands made from earth sprouted and the officers started panicking, trying to run only to be stopped by hands gripped around them hard. Soon, figures crawled out from the earth, human-like in shape, but so unnatural in their lack of intricate detail. They reached for whatever surface they could on the police vehicles. Altogether, hands and figures, they started to pull down. Officers fired stray shots but before they knew it, they were being crushed as they were dragged down to the earth. Soon, everyone besides the twins were gone, muddled into the earth, staining it red. The vehicles were flattened so forcefully, it's incredible to take in how much strength these terra-humans have. The helicopter was the last of the arrest team when it took was taken down. The cockpit's window was sprayed red from the blood of the pilot's brain imploding on itself, and the helicopter crashed right on the twins. A thick wall of earth had come up, blocking the explosion completely, leaving the two unscathed.

"C-team to headquarters, sending in footage now of most recent attack, please advise."

Just what kind of advice did they think they were going to receive?




In other news, flights into and out of Cambodia have been halted. Media coverage is spreading like wildfire as reporters vie for more information to the incident. Another event to occur just after the dragon taking to the air. What is going on in this planet? All that's known for sure, there is widespread panic, and people are trying to get out of the country. No one, absolutely no one, is allowed to leave.

The world economy is crashing. Public trust is falling. Terror is at an all-time high.

Viccar, with a seemingly innocuous message to Ms. Jordan, wondered whether he should send it over or not.

"Press Conference in one hour. The higher-ups demand it. The public is concerned the earthquake isn't an earthquake, but rather an attack by the dragon-monster again."
Awesome as well! Presumably people will write this off as an earthquake so massive and devastating it killed thousands, but with a dragon still fresh in their minds, some people will start to wonder hahaha
Okay, so my post isn't actually as long as I expected, but hey, there we go!

You should expect some phone-calls, press conferences, emails, journalists clawing for Maria's ass, all that, in your next post! hahah!
The brevity for reprieve was necessary but fortunate. The hunt had continued, but with the level of secrecy and counter-intelligence at the time, even if they were to use maps with all the supposed secrets unveiled, the search team would still be using a dated layout of the frozen forest. Andjela, the loose cannon of an Agent, was disobeying orders of staying down. Just who was this woman?

Some truths are too difficult to reveal to others, to the world. Some truths are often not wholly confessed. Some… ought never be revealed.





It was the late afternoon and the Cambodian sky was expected to turn a tinge of orange as the sun prepared its descent down below the horizon. However, judging from the grey colouration of the clouds looming before them, churning condensation, alive to expand to the berth of the low building skyline, there was going to be heavy rain tonight. Many of the family restaurants in the neighbourhood pulled out their collapsible awnings, still anticipating the stray tourists to come visit the localities for “authentic experiences”. The many tuk-tuk drivers had the same idea, and pulled down the plastic sheets, shielding the carriage from the wind and rain, with the driver left with a raincoat to drive the motorcycle component of the vehicle.

Dara watched the road as drivers passed by. Thy was occupied with trying to better the shape and look of his terra-animated dog, made from the fossils of a perished canine and the surrounding soil and rocks. There was a strange history behind their powers and how they manifested over time. Dara went into deep thought as she pondered on the one possibility…

It was only ever just the four of them as a family; parents, two children, and no extended relatives. The children’s gifts had been simpler from the beginning - and not because it was more difficult to perform feats with their gifts, but because they had only had literally simpler abilities then. Dara had only been able to read other people’s minds, and Thy could only shift the earth and other earthen materials. Dara remembered the day she and her brother gained more power, so to speak. It was on the evening that their mother had passed. Ever since that night, the two had been able to do so much more. Their mother had always had an almost savant’s talent to know exactly what people thought and felt, and knew how to make them feel better if they were sad, or how to really pierce to their hearts if they deserved the punishment. She was able to make fantastic food, and plant life in their household always fostered and grew healthily unlike the typical condition that most fauna succumb to with the dry air and baked soil. When she’d died, said plantlife immediately expired and their house lost its vivacious colours of spirit and livelihood. Yet, she felt them. Dara could read and influence others’ emotions now, like she had with her dad. Thy could bring things to life and animate earthen beings like slaves to a master. The connection seemed so obvious but so unreal. Could Dara really ignore the possibility that…

Her thoughts were cut short as a dirtied-white van drove to their side of the curb and slowed to a half. Thy reacted to the commotion and Dara could feel the soil shift and compact under her. She felt security, fear, and defense from the brother. Control of the terra-animated dog had been released, and it crumbled to a mound of dust.

“សម្រាក | Relax” Dara echoed to Thy’s mind. He nodded back.

Skinny, shady men exited the van’s side-doors and circled the two children. The van was parked so that the neighbours could not see what was going on. The two were alone for now.

“ដរា, ទី? | Dara, Thy?”

“ចាស | Yes.”

The man with the mohawk, shades, spiked denim vest, and cheap, tacky leather trousers nodded. The two children had been staring down the man when another had smacked Dara at the back of her head and lifted her up. She was in pain, and could not react, to stop their capturers, and was thrown into van. Thy had been picked up by one of the bigger men. The soil had clung to him slightly but when he was smacked at the head as well, he cried in pain as he was thrown into the van as well. The two held each other as they cried in pain. They rubbed each other’s heads as their world turned to black with the slam of the van door.




It was late at night and the heavy rain panged away at the metal roof of the slow-moving van. The two were fine now but they were deathly afraid. Thy, and Dara, could feel the twin brother’s almost intuitive sensation of the metal and earthen grains with Thy’s skin contact to the metal frame of the vehicle. Try as he could, he could not shift such a large, refined material. Her little brother was scared, and Dara thought she could try to ease his emotions away but thought otherwise. They needed to be scared. They needed to be prepared for what was going to happen.

The van was slowing as it shifted gears and moved to a slight hill with uneven ground. Dara knew that this could be a chance for them to run away. Dara spoke to Thy psychically: “ត្រៀមខ្លួន | Get ready.” They released each other and readied an attack once they opened the door from which they had come. The right-hand side had been where they were thrown in. They faced it and got ready. Dara had to see the person to actually be able to read their mind, and thus location. This was a guess, and it had better count.

The door opened, and they were greeted with a big flash of light, blinding them. In that moment, their heads were covered with thick cotton sacks and lifted up. They struggled and dug their nails into their oppressors, but to no avail. They were brought a long way downwards until the kidnappers stopped and handed them off to another person. The children were placed down to wooden seats. As they rocked side to side, they knew they were on a boat. The loud, exposed engine to the back confirmed this, and soon the deafening roar of the engine block was overbearing and it was all Dara and Thy could hear for another fifteen minutes as they sped onwards.



It felt like an eternity as the dying engine turned to a stop. There was a slight ringing to everyone’s ears and the kidnappers had to resort to rowing with oars to manoeuvre. Perhaps the most terrifying was the eerie and contrarily to the engine block, the more deafening silence of the environment. They must be so far away from any sort of traffic or civilization. Anyone used to living with any sort of civility and technology would find the lack of the electronic hum terrifying. The children were picked up and brought upwards on wooden stairs before being tied down to wooden chairs. Dara and Thy could hear feet shuffling and slight whispering, but most of all an adult man sniffling his runny nose. Though she could not see him, his mental presence was all too strong and familiar to Dara and even Thy: it was their dad.

The sacks came off, and Dara, Thy, and their dad cried out to each other. To see their dad like this was soul-crushing, but before they could struggle to reach for each other, the man earlier with the mohawk stood between them and crossed his arms, ogling the children as if on display.

The man spoke with an oily, snake-like voice that was so raspy from perhaps chronic alcohol consumption:

“ស្រស់ស្អាតខ្លាំងណាស់, ជា។ អ្នកមានកុមារស្រស់ស្អាត។ | Very nice, Chea. You have beautiful children.”

“កុំប៉ះពួកគេ, អ្នកបិសាច។ | Don’t you touch them, you monster!”

A burly man from the side punched the father so hard it knocked some teeth loose. He was bleeding in the mouth and it looked like he was almost dazed out of it.

The mohawk man regarded the children:

“ អ្នកទិញនេះនឹងចូលចិត្តអ្នក, ក្មេងស្រីតូចម្នាក់។ ពួកគេចូលចិត្តវានៅពេលដែលក្មេងស្រីនេះគឺខឹង។ វាផ្តល់ឱ្យពួកគេមានអារម្មណ៍រីករាយនៅពេលដែលពួកគេបានបំបាក់ស្មារតីរបស់ពួកគេ។ | The buyers are going to like you, little girl. They like it when the girls are angry. It gives them pleasure when they break their spirit. “

“ទុកឱ្យពួកគេតែម្នាក់ឯង, អ្នកកូនឥតខាន់ស្លា! | Leave them alone, you bastard!”

Mohawk man turned slowly, looming over the man strapped defenselessly to the chair as if confused as to why he would be so stupidly annoying. He took off his denim vest, his barren, skinny, bony body. There was a tattoo on his left pectoral that spread up to his neck, and now that it was on full display, Dara and Thy reeled back in disgust when it showed a tiger biting into a peafowl. The twins hissed at the man as he punched their dad right at the eye. The guttural sound of flesh and bone breaking was gut-wrenching.

“អ្នកនិយាយថាអ្នកចង់បានលុយ ... ហើយខ្ញុំពិតជាមានដើម្បីជួយនៅទីនេះ … | You said you wanted money... and I'm here to help…”

“ខ្ញុំមិនមានន័យថានេះ! អ្វីដែលខ្ញុំត្រូវការគឺប្រាក់កម្ចីមួយ! | I didn't mean this! All I needed was a loan!”

“យើងមានក្រុមការងារអាជីវកម្មបានផលចំណេញ។ យើងជួសជុលម៉ូតូកង់បីរបស់អ្នក, អ្នកផ្តល់ឱ្យយើងនូវកូនរបស់អ្នក, អ្នកធ្វើការសម្រាប់ពួកយើងវាជាការឈ្នះឈ្នះ | We are a profitable business group. We repair your tuk-tuk, you give us your children, you work for us, it's a win-win. “

Mohawk man took out an aged photograph from his pocket and looked at the address written on the back. It was a picture of the twins when they were still young.



“ ដែលបានសរសេរអាសយដ្ឋានរបស់ពួកគេនៅលើត្រឡប់មកវិញនៃរូបថតរបស់ពួកគេ, ឬ? | Who writes their address on the back of their photos, anyway?”

Thy replied angrily: “យើងគ្រាន់តែបានផ្លាស់ប្តូរចូលទៅក្នុងផ្ទះរបស់យើង។ វាជាវិធីរបស់ម្តាយការអបអរសាទរនិងការចងចាំព្រឹត្តិការណ៍នេះ | We had just moved into our house. It was mom's way of congratulating and remembering the event”

“មិននិយាយទៅនេះទាបជីវិតជាកូន។ | Don’t talk to this low-life, son.”

Even in the face of torture and his life dangling so precariously out of his control, dad still wanted his children to be strong and have values. From the harsh punishments to the inspirational talks, he wanted the best out of his two most precious.

Mohawk man relentlessly pummeled him until he grew tired. Their dad’s face was starting to become unrecognizable. Dara tried to reach out to mohawk man to try and stop him, but the inflicted pain was shared to the both of them, and it was incredibly difficult to shake off the bond and try and be the hero. Thy could not reach the earthen ground owing to the tall chair, and was just as despondent.

“បញ្ឈប់វាឥឡូវនេះ! | Stop it, right now!” Dara screamed.

Mohawk man turned swiftly and slapped Dara, tipping her and the chair over to lean on Thy’s side.

“ឈប់​និយាយ! ឈប់​និយាយ! អ្នកកុមារគឺតែងតែខ្លាំងដូច្នេះ | Shut up! Shut up! You kids are always fucking so loud!”

“តើអ្នកមិនបានវាយនាង! | Don’t you hit her!” the dad yelled.

Mohawk man, being played around like a fool, swung as hard as he could at the dad and sent him flying across the room. In that moment, Dara and Thy suddenly felt an emptiness in their soul, a void that was previously held by the moral example, the authoritative figure, the last of the two that loved them unconditionally. Her father was no more.

Dara and Thy both cried out to their father. Get up, they yelled, wake up, dad, please!, they continued, but he would not move.

“អ្នកបើកបរដែលមានតម្លៃថោកដូច្នេះទេ។ កុមារទាំងនេះ, ទោះជាយ៉ាងណា … | Drivers are a dime a dozen anyway, but these kids, however…”

In that moment, the two felt nothing but sadness. They were two against the world now, and probably not for long, not with how they will be arranged and delivered in the line of child prostitution and slavery. But in that same moment, Dara and Thy felt an empowerment within themselves. Could it be, Dara thought. When their mother had passed, the children gained her motherly qualities and their gifts were enhanced horizontally in life and emotion. Their father was always the one to give them hope and was the pivotal hold and breadwinner of their family. Now, they both felt that they could do even so much more with their gifts, like a high to a sugar rush, like a win in a competition.

But who cares? With their parents gone, it seemed everyone was against them. Everyone is going to use them because they are vulnerable, and everyone is going to hate and ignore them because they are just kids. No.

The burly man began to untie them from their chairs. As soon as they were freed, they seized that moment. She did not even need to communicate it to Thy. Twins think alike.

Dara psionically attacked the burly man, and to the other gang members, it looked like he was having a frantic seizure. He screamed to the top of his lungs, and others tried to subdue him when he bled from his eyes, ears, and nose. He fell to the floor, unmoving. The others soon fell victim to the same fate as they screamed in a cacophonous choir of death before they all died. That left mohawk man standing in the room, absolutely clueless as to what in god’s name just happened.

Thy’s feet touched the ground and he felt bliss, the earth obeying to his every will. Mohawk man looked to the ground below him and could see the shifting earth take formation. All of a sudden, terra-shaped hands bursted out from the ground and grabbed onto any surface they could on the man. Mohawk man tried to break free, screaming for help. The terra-hands gripped hard and returned back to the earth, pulling and crushing the man into a mulch as he met the hard ground.

The ordeal was over, but their lives are forever destroyed. The twins fell to the floor and hugged and cried into each other. They both stared at their dad’s unmoving body, still hopeful that he would just get back up soon. As the red and blue lights of the police car shone through the window, and the officers tried to comfort them into their cruiser to return to the police station, they fell asleep, utterly exhausted.




They woke up to the clean sight of the police station in Siem Reap, just outside Pub Street where the clubs and restaurants stay open 24/7 serving the tourists. It made sense that police patrolled Pub Street - even through their thick walls, the blaring music could be heard and much control was needed to make sure order was maintained. The officer in charge of handling the issue with the twins had covered them in a duvet, and came to them when they had awakened. The young officer had bent down to see them eye-to-eye, and spoke:

“ អ្វីគ្រប់យ៉ាងនឹងត្រូវបានអី។ | Everything is going to be alright. “

Dara and Thy were clearing their vision when they noticed just at the base of the officer’s neck there was the head of a peafowl in discomfort. As the officer turned, they both barely caught a glimpse of the tattoo under his shirt. The same tattoo Mohawk Man had. No way, they thought in unison. It can’t be, the twins thought.

The officer had been handling and filing the report of the disturbance in the Floating Villages by the river bend just outside the rural parts of Siem Reap. The officers came to investigate men crying out in pain when they discovered, when arriving an hour later, two children crying, watching their dead father. It was a mysterious event because they were no obvious physical nor environmental signs showing how the men had died. Perhaps more investigation was needed. But that was for the others that actually gave a damn. This young officer was a new recruit in the underground gang that circulated young children throughout the Asian black market. His position in the police force was an obvious strength and advantage for his recruitment and could perform any actions and handle decisions needed to solve any “unwanted issues”. The report concerning the two children was simply going to disappear, and so will the children. He planned to bring them to his police cruiser under the guise of taking them out for something to eat, and deliver them to middle men just outside the city.

However, Dara had been reading his mind the entire time. If even the police force, a symbol of public trust and protection, could be corrupted, then there was simply no one to trust anymore. The last people the twins could trust were killed and no more. But Dara’s theory proved correct. They may no longer be physically present, but they must have had gifts of their own, and they must have passed on to the twins. Their father was what kept them strong ,because he himself was perhaps the strongest there ever was. If their mother gave life, their father enriched it. Their powers were so much more.

With a burst of extreme psionic power, the officer screamed and bled as his mind was blasted with all sensations, emotions, and memories of his past magnified a thousand fold. He practically clawed at his head to try and kill himself but he died a slow death. His fellow, probably innocent officers kept to help the downed man, but Dara had had enough. Soon, the screams was longer than the club music, and there was no one left alive in the police station. Filled with a passionate rage, the twins stood together, side by side, as they exited the police station. Passerbys rushed in to see what was going on, and Thy summoned hands and dragged them into the earth below, crushing them into a bloody mess.



The entrance faced Pub Street, a popular tourist spot frequented for bar-hopping, restaurants, souvenir-shopping, prostitution, and even hotels. It was a large hub for all things fun and international, spanning over ten blocks in its perimeter with over ten thousand people at any given time.

The twins started their pace down the middle of street. All around them within Dara’s line of sight, people started collapsing in pain, dying from a mental strain they could not fight. Thy, despite the muddied soil from the rain, could feel the foundation that these buildings stood on. He broke them, and around them buildings started to shake and crumble. People were running for their lives, bumping and pushing each other as they panicked and fled. Before they reached the second building, the first had already crumbled to debris and a sinkhole was left in its wake, dispersed down and outwards, reshaping the geology of the underground so drastically it caused earthquakes. This carried on until they reached the opposite end of the street. Then, Dara and Thy sunk into the earth, and tunnelled and transported themselves back to the rural neighbourhood, back home.




Viccar had fallen asleep on his desk when the notification beep came to his computer, followed by another, until the beep became a linear, jolting noise. Reports of Cambodia’s Siem Reap Pub Street disappearing. Pictures of the once incredibly populated tourist spot now a terraformed, barren land. The province’s police station officers and staff collapsing and dying, and… two twins.

“Dear God.”

He attached all the reports to an email and sent it to Ms. Jordan, along with the message.

“This just came in. Shit just hit the fan.”

I might take a while to post. I did made a mental draft, but with work I've got fatigue and some of it's gone hahaha, plus I made sure it was a long post hahaa

There are implications to the actions of my next post, so Maria better bring her game. haha
We should have another period of inactivity for the trio until Caits gets fully better. At this point in time, they are invisible from surveillance until Maria realizes that they should consider looking into pre-world-war hideouts. This does not have to be soon, but at this rate Caits is probably going to die from overexhaustion so take your time!

After you do a quick post, I'll do my novella with the twins. :)
Gershwin looked down at Cody and the Agent. The room looked fairly small from her angle but it promised security and safety for the time being. She heard the request to look for water... but she would not budge. She was still in pain and her powers were still unbearably insistent. She turned to look at the wall which had the face of the door. It would be soooo easy.... to just walk out and wait for the search team... it would make her feel so gooooooooddddddddd...

She snapped out of it. She turned back and walked down the stairs. Her hands were pressed to the sides of the staircase and she barely managed to make herself in before the floor panels slid back shut, hiding them from sight and sound.

Cody's luminescent ambiance shone throughout the room, and Gershwin searched for a switch on the wall to turn on the lights. She flipped a switch and the hum of generators reverberated throughout the tiny room. There was a gentle rattle which faded into nothing as the light-blue lights filled the room and fresh air was pumped into the bunker. It was a modern hideout for sure, but she should also give credit to world war survivalists for thinking with extreme foresight.

She looked at the supply stock at the cupboards that seemed endless. She reached for a bottle of water and without crushing it completely she handed it to Caits. Gershwin stared at Cody intently before making a conscious decision to knock herself out. In a med-kit just nearby, she took out the morphine and several sedatives. She chucked half of the bottle and injected herself. Gershwin placed the med-kit to Caits' side and right then and there she passed out on the floor. She figured Cody was well enough to care for them both, but this was a selfless choice; it would have been like locking a deranged animal in a cage with its prey.
Hey! Sorry for the lack of posting. I'll do a post right now when there's down-time at work. Afterwards I have some instructions for you. :)
Gershwin made her move to catch the swaying Agent. Though her intentions were benevolent, her own urges seemed to take a life on their own, and she fought with every bit of her soul to not rip Caits apart at the moment.

Suddenly, the floor seemed to come to life, and the carpet split in half to reveal a metallic staircase, leading into darkness below. The sliding wooden panels barely shook the house, but it did rattle some of the settled snow. Though more snow was coming, any bit of movement could be seen from the outside. It was fairly quiet, but they ought not to hesitate staying out in the open for too long.

"Cody... you lead the way..."

"Wait... in fact... take her..." she gestured to Caits. Her fingers were digging into the Agent's arms.




Andjela watched the commotion from far away. The search team operated with a ferocity to that of a wild animal chasing its small, elusive prey. It was best to stay out of their way, but she knew she herself could take the whole team on. Agents were good like that.

"Время для охоты | Time to hunt."
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