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  1. So I have come off my hiatus (mainly due to me completing my Master's thesis) to write this for the storyversary. I had a pandemic one planned for this year... before we had a pandemic. Much like my past storyversary entries, this one is based around current events, personal experience (both online and IRL), and literature I've read. I would love to hear your thoughts, as well as see if you can pick up the references I've made in this piece. ----- “Good morning Altimore. I’m Mike Armistand.” Lucas smiled as the screen on his tablet showed the extraordinarily handsome face of news anchor, Mike Armistand. His cleft chin covered in dark stubble. His dark brown hair perfectly gelled into place. A smoldering gaze coming from his deep green eyes. He looked perfect. “And I’m Farrah Enseher.” Lucas wasn’t as enthralled by her, but he knew most straight men were. Blonde, tanned, curvy, and stacked, just what any straight man would want. Even though Lucas was gay, he had to look at her, she is a woman. She deserves his attention. “And welcome to NewsSpeak, where the news speaks to you. In today’s top story, more protests surrounding the annual Dependence Day collections. Be careful out there today. The Montag Corporation Security Force will be out there today to ensure everything stays peaceful.” Lucas leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes. He could listen to Armistand talk about anything all day long. Even if it was about a bunch of those Nazis holding signs about bodily integrity and misanthropy, and other classist language. The Christian movement should have died out years ago. “You would have thought people would have learned from the election 64 years ago,” Lucas thought to himself, smiling. It was a good thought. Shifting his thought back to the deep and melodic voice of Mike, he couldn’t help but imagine the anchorman’s thick Adam's apple bobbing up and down his thick neck as he spoke the news. Even though the man was on the screen right in front of it, Lucas preferred to imagine it. With it being Dependence Day, he decided to imagine the airing of Mike Armistand’s Dependence Acceptance from years ago. The anchor, then reporter, wanted to broadcast the Dependence Acceptance process to show it was safe and that he could handle it. He even wore a suit into the Acceptance chamber. It was a change of utter magnificence. The whole world watched as the buttons on Mike’s suit buckled, then burst off, pinging against the walls of the chamber. Sleeves shredded over his now bountiful biceps and triceps. Lucas remembered just how enthralled he was watching Mike’s hand swallow more and more of the microphone he was holding. Just watching the sinews in his hand as it expanded was so exciting to him. The changes to his upper body were so pronounced that by the time the cameraman realized he needed to pan down, Mike’s tremendous thighs had already obliterated the black dress fabric. The remaining fabric clung to his crotch and around his calves. The changes obviously made him a bit unsteady. One step and flex of the calves tore the remainder of his pants off. Another step and his shoes burst open due to his much larger feet, needed to support his much larger body. Veins running over the top of them with thick meaty toes… Lucas shook his head. He knew he shouldn’t think of the feet. That’s not one of the things he was mandated to be allowed to be attracted to. No one could know he thought of big feet as attractive. Going outside your mandated range could get you labelled as a deplorable. He willed his mind’s eye back up the powerful legs of the transforming Mike to his crotch. The once well-fitted fabric was now bulging as his balls swelled with size and increased their testosterone production. The camera cut away to Mike’s chest before his cock flopped out from the broken zipper. Rumor has it that another camera caught it on video and now it is floating around on the deep old web. The current camera focused on the hair growing out over the newsman’s chest and now exposed abs. While it made him look quite hirsute, it was well known Mike kept it shaved pretty well to ‘keep his masculinity in check.’ The thing to change was his face. Once above average, his features grew bolder. His jaw widened to match his equally thick neck. His chin gained his now signature cleft. Thick stubble covered both of them. Meanwhile his cheekbones shifted higher and his brow lowered just slightly, giving him an intense, brooding look as his eyes changed from gray to a magnificent green. His hair didn’t change too much. It grew out some and darkened a bit, but just that little change seemed to change his whole demeanor. Once the changes seemed to stop, the nation held its breath, seeing if the selection process was true and that he could handle such masculinity. Mike reached down towards his crotch before smiling and bringing his bicep up into a flex, “You see folks,” his newly deepened voice said through sexual pants, “With the right person, masculinity can be wrangled into… submission.” And then the cameras cut out and Lucas’s imagination was over. “This stop is Markist Street,” the automated bus driver announced. Just in time, Lucas stood up to get off at his stop. The news was still playing in his Luco Vido airpods, or more commonly known as “SeaShells” given their shape. The name has changed many times, but the current nickname has been deemed appropriate by the Ministry of Culture. Though it had been a little over a year since the new nickname caught on, so someone was bound to find something bad about it soon, and a new, cooler nickname would be announced. He wasn’t listening to the news as actively as he was with Mike as Farrah droned on how several Midwest states had threatened to secede if they did not get proper representation soon in the electorate system. Lucas snapped to attention, realizing he hadn’t been listening to Farrah seriously, so he began to intently look at her words. “Why would anyone want to live in the Midwest anyway?” Farrah mocked and Lucas nodded, “Yeah why would anyone live there. There’s like nothing. And if they choose to live there, they shouldn’t complain. Plus we do so much for them, we know how things run there.” Lucas mused as he worked his way through the crowd, his tablet guiding him to avoid collisions with others. Finally he arrived at his destination, the O.R. Well’s building at the Ministry of Justice. He looked around and saw the protesters with their signs saying things like “Let Men be MEN,” “Not all masculinity is toxic,” and “Science says XY not X-.” Lucas couldn’t help but chuckle, “What would they know about science. They are Christian, they hate science.” He thought to himself, remembering how he was taught in biology class that testosterone was a natural driver of aggression and that it was a miracle humanity made it to where it is today without wrangling in the unruly testosterone driven males. Thanks to the invention of the Dependence and Acceptance processes, we have been able to keep men from becoming testosterone crazed, while still being able to reproduce. He could remember his father telling him of his 2-day Acceptance period where he became a 6’5” hulk of a man with a 13 inch penis filled to the brim with energy and sexual desire. He ravaged his mother until she was pregnant before having to be sedated and donating all his borrowed masculinity. Lucas shuddered at the thought, but a small part of him wanted to experience that. He shook that thought off, risking being seen thinking of such a thing, especially at the Ministry of Justice was dangerous. Lucas lost a little bit of focus as Mike Armistand’s voice came back through his head phones, “And remember to have a great Dependence Day, the future of our society depends on you. We will be back this evening with the news.” Distracted by the anchor’s tenor, Lucas walked head first into a pair of meaty pecs. Lucas looked up to see a tall, silver bearded man scowling down at him. “I’m sorry…” He squinty at the man’s nametag, “Officer Sal... Mander…?” It was one of the Montag Corporation’s security force. Their logo was clearly visible on the badge clinging to the man’s left pec. Plus Lucas could see Mander’s suppression aid holstered in his belt next to his submission aid hanging off his hip. Though, his eyes quickly wandered back up to the officer’s chest. The top few buttons were undone and he could see the silvery hair poking through the open flaps. “Watch where you are going, kid.” He grunted and moved past the smaller man, shoving him to the side a bit. Lucas wondered why those on the security force were allowed to hold masculinity. The traditional security force in Altimore, formerly known as the police, were disbanded years ago and company security forces were ushered in. They probably rehired the same policemen and had them put through intensive training or something. After the barbaric mob of the former police force was gone, Lucas wondered why even the security force was put in place. The danger of the police was gone. Lucas turned to watch Sal pepper spray some of the protesters as he walked into the building. “At least they are doing their job,” he mumbled to himself. Inside the building was relatively quiet. Lucas got in line behind a man who had clearly missed a few Dependence Days and looked rightfully nervous. His pecs and biceps twitched under his tight shirt and he kept looking around. Finally, they made it to the front of the line. Curious, Lucas took out one of his Seashells to listen in on the conversation. He had never seen someone this big at a Dependence Day donation before. “Name?” The modelesque receptionist asked, beaming an unnaturally white smile. “Uh… Steven Sands,” the bigger man said quietly. “Date of birth?” “July 9th, 2066” “Oh my, you just missed getting in on your first donation last year. Most line up so fast when they turn 18. You must have been so disappointed not to participate last year. Well I’m sure you are so excited to get rid of all those extra androgens.” Steven just shook his head nervously. “Well, we are a little backed up today. Some non-compliance. But I think we can get you bumped to the front as a lil birthday present. Don’t tell anyone though.” Steven was handed a ticket and escorted down a hall. It was Lucas’s turn now. “Name?” The receptionist repeated. “Lucas Atwood.” “Date of birth?” “June 8th, 2059.” “Okay, so we are a little backed up today. Some non-compliance is all. Oh shoot, I forgot to mention it to the other guy. The average testosterone level had risen by 19.84% so the donation process will take slightly longer to accommodate for the additional androgen collection.” “That’s alright. This was my plan for the day,” Lucas responded plainly. “Alright then, the parlor is just down that hall. An attendant will call you when a donation chamber becomes available.” Lucas took the ticket and headed towards the parlor. The room had wall-to-wall TV screens. All playing various news and entertainment channels. Finding a seat, he settled on the NewsSpeak channel, a different anchor now doing the midday news, Tony Burgess. He wasn’t as favored as Armistand, but still controlled his masculinity well. Lucas started imagining the broadcast of Tony going from meek weather intern to hunky red-headed Thor weatherman, flexing out of his shirt, contorting his body as if he were wrestling the physical manifestation of masculinity in the chamber. His personal-inner show was cut short as the female presenter began talking about the upcoming election. He hated hearing about it. The other side would never win. Both sides would put up a masculinized candidate, and his side would always win, even if they were going to put up a senile muscle grandfather, ti was better than whatever the other side was going to put up. He wondered how the other side even got their candidates masculinized. Lucas knew politicians were some of the best people to control such a wild force, but really, was the other side even worthy of it? Before the internal monologue of his political rant could continue, he could feel his bladder tighten. He needed to use the restroom soon. Looking to the room attendants, most looked busy, bored, or frankly, intimidating to the small Lucas. He excused himself down a hall, thinking he could find the room himself. However after a few minutes of wandering, he had quickly gotten himself lost in the labyrinth of the building, and he couldn’t find anyone to help him out. To make matters worse, his tablet had no signal, which was weird since he normally had signal everywhere he went. He continued to wander until he came up a long hallway with rooms. He found one labeled, “D. Chamber 21 Observation Room B” and heard some noise coming from it. He hoped he wouldn’t get in trouble if he said he was lost. He pushed the door open slowly, but found the room empty. The room has several chairs facing a large glass pane. Looking through it was what Lucas thought to be the donation chambers. Filled with wires, light and gauges, Lucas could look on in awe. He normally was sedated for the Dependence donation so he had never seen the inside of one. Inside of this one was the big man that was in front of him in line, Steven Sands. Unlike Lucas, Steven didn’t seem sedated. “The sedative has worn off on him already,” a speaker crackled to live in the room, making Lucas’s heart jump into his throat. Calming down, he realized he would be seeing a donation live, and the thought excited him. He bet Steven must be elated. In the chamber, Steven struggled against his restraints. “He certainly is a strong one. Let’s get this show on the road before we have another non-compliance issue. We got a big fish next,” Another voice over the speaker came in. “Turn on his microphone, I want to hear this one,” Lucas was slightly perturbed by that voice as suddenly Steven’s cries echoed from the speaker. “Please! Please stop! I don’t want to do this!” Steven begged, “I just want to be myself. Please let me go!” “How selfish,” Lucas thought as the machine whirred to life. His attention was on Steven’s body as the donation process began. Steven’s bulk seemed to simply dissipate from his body as a gauge on the machine rose. Bulky arms dwindled into beanpole-like appendages. His chest lost so much width, and his nipples seemed to shrink too. His abs faded to a flat plain. All the while Steven continued to struggle, the restraints becoming looser on him. Given how much weight he had lost, he was able to slip free of the restraints, but he couldn’t get far. The moment he stood up, his briefs fell down. Lucas hadn’t seen a cock that big since high school when a late bloomer in his gym class has a growth spurt. “Oh yeah, I love this part,” the voice from before echoing in the room. Lucas watched as the massive first began to thin, then slowly recede backwards into Steven’s hairy crotch, though it would not have that hair for much longer as it began to fall out. His ballsac looked so out of place with such a tiny cock sitting on top of it. Like a water balloon leaking, the sac slowly deflated as his balls shrunk, his testosterone production shrinking with it. Lastly, Steven’s whole body seemed to shrink on itself. His arms and legs pulling closer to his torso. His spine shortening. Until finally a few cosmetic changes to the face, making it rounder and dulling the hair and eye color, he could look like a sibling of Lucas, granted many men already did. The chambered door hissed open and a statuesque man in a lab coat stepped inside, “You feel better now don’t you?” The now muscle smaller Steven nodded his head numbly. “Attaboy. Now follow your attendant out and he will get you situated with some new clothes and get your ID fixed.” Lucas swore he could see Steven sob as they pulled him out of the room. Lucas wondered why the guy would be so against the donation. It was good for himself and society. Did he not pay attention in history or biology class? “Alright, the chamber is ready. Bring in the man for the demelanation process,” the voice came over the speaker. “Demelanation?” Lucas repeated in a whisper. He had heard rumors of such a thing, but the news reassured everyone that such a process didn’t exist. Since fake news had been outlawed for years, there is no way they could lie about it. Curious, Lucas stayed in the room to watch to see if it really happened. The chamber began to modify itself slightly. A divider coming down the middle and a black man being shoved into one side. “Keep the mic on, I want to hear this one too,” the voice said, Lucas beginning to hear hints of lust in the scientist’s voice. “Fuck you. Fuck all of you. I want to live my life as I want. Fuck you,” the black man’s voice shouted from the speakers. “Now now, you threw away your blackness when you decided to join those Catholic protesters outside. We could have at least rehabilitated you if you chose a Protestant group.” The scientist chided, condescendingly. “You don’t meet the black criteria, you don’t get to be black. That’s the rules.” “Fuck all y’all. I’m going to expose your asses. You’ll see. Everyone will see how corrupt this system is.” Lucas could hear the scientist laugh. Once he was done laughing, he seemed to whisper to someone else in the room, “Where is the Acceptor? Melanin expires very quickly and we do not need to lose another point on our diversity quota. Mayor Lemon will kill us, especially if we lose another black number.” “He’s here.” “Perfect, get him in the chamber. I see he wants to wear clothes. Eh most do. Prepare his uniform for him. And where is Armistand? I told him he could watch his new sex slave being made.” Lucas’s eyes widened. Mike Armistand, his crush and idol, knew about the demelanation process and had sex slaves? Not only did he lie about the process not existing, but the man he so idolized actually couldn’t contain his masculinity. Rampant sex was a symptom of that. “Alright, begin the process.” The machine whirred to life once again. Just like Steven, the black man began to lose any sort of bulk and muscle on his body. Biceps reduced to twigs. Thighs so thin it's a wonder he could stand. A paper thin torso and of course the loss of height. Then, the strangest thing started to happen. His skin started to lighten rapidly, but as it lightened, Lucas noticed more changes. First, the bone structure of the man seemed to change. His fingers looked far more slender, his posture looked more sullen. Even the bones in his face changed. His jaw and nose narrowed. His lips became slim and much more pink. His curly black hair fell out and light blonde hair grew in its place. Lastly, his eyes lost their dark brown color until they turned a baby blue and a calmness settled over him. “Now that's more like it,” the scientist’s voice shook Lucas from his rapt attention to the transformation. “Now Jamal, or rather Jamie, your new master will be here shortly. A shame he missed your change” “Arrrrrgggghhhh,” came from the other side of the chamber. The small man who had stepped into the other side of the chamber was already in the throws of his transformation. This shirt and pants were shirt tight and too short for him. With a primal roar, the man ripped open his shirt, massive pecs capped with huge nipples now free from their cloth confines. The tear continued down to reveal his thick, eight-pack abs. Hooking his thumbs into the waistband of his straining pants, he pulled the pants off like a stripper. His quads had already developed the teardrop shape and it was only getting bigger and more defined by the minute. His calves bunched up behind his shin and grew, giving the lower half of his legs that diamond shape from the front, and upside-down heart from the back. Lucas bit his lip as the part he secretly desired came. The man’s shoes ripping open to expose his growing meaty feet. Lucas had no idea even feet could have muscles like this. Thick, sinewy toes pushed out the front of his shoes and socks. The scraps of fabric, leather, and plastic scattered around the feet that now looked twice the size from before. He knows he shouldn’t be lusting after this, but all that has been going on, and his lack of donation, reawakened his libido. The man continued to shout and moan in lust. Then the second strangest thing Lucas saw that day happened. The man’s fingers began to grow thicker, the palm widening. The skin of his hands grew darker. The change in skin tone then traveled up his arms, a network of veins following their path. Lucas watched, mesmerized as the man’s fair skin was replaced by the dark chocolate tone of a black man. Only as it went up the man’s arm did Lucas realize how big it had gotten, and the veins made it look bigger. As it reached his chest, dark hair swirled over his pectoral and his nipples darkened. His hairless pit now filled with pitch black hair. The melanin traveled down his back, giving him a more confident posture. Going up his neck, the man’s Adam’s apple seemed to jump out further than it had already grown. Then it reached his face. Much like with Mike’s transformation, his jaw broadened, cheekbones gained prominence, and brow lowered, but the new process brought new changes. The man’s lips parted and revealed a row of stunningly white teeth that contrasted against the dark skin of his face. The lips growing more plump and darkening too. His nose grew wider as he flared his nostrils and let out a gush of air. His dirty blonde hair fell out and was replaced by dark, curly hair sitting in a free-form afro. Just as the man seemed to finish, he let out a deep grunt, “Thanks, doc.” “No problem Tyler, or should I say Tyrell? Now why don’t you finish up in there. It’s easier to clean. Then we can get you your security uniform and get you ID changed.” To Lucas’s shock, the now-black man wrapped a hand around his massive cock. “What’s he doing? He can’t control his masculinity! He’s dangerous,” thoughts rushed around in a jumbled mess in Lucas’s head. None of this seemed right. The demelanization. Calling a white man black now. Revoking ‘blackness.’ None of it seemed real. He had to get out and let the authorities know. He turned to get out the door and ran smack into a pair of thick pecs. “Well well well. They said if I hurried, I could catch the end of the transference, but it looks like I was too late and caught something else instead.” Lucas slowly looked up past the pair of pecs pressed into a tailored shirt and into the eyes of someone very familiar. “Mike Armistand,” Lucas said softly. “Yes I am and boy are you in trouble.” Lucas tried to let out any words, but fear gripped his throat. Mike looked over the scared boy and saw his hand try to hide his erection, “Like what you saw huh? Or is it you like what you see?” Lucas just gulped. “Doesn’t matter, we can’t have you going on about what you saw, but I think I have an offer you can’t refuse. You see,” but before Mike could finish, Lucas used his small body to squeeze through the gap between Mike and the door. Lucas ran as fast as his little legs and weak heart could take him. He could hear Mike’s laughs from down the hall. Even though his lungs burned for oxygen as he never ran before, he kept going only to be cut short by another pair of massive pecs. “See I told you the B.B. system caught a non-registered tablet in here,” a deep voice said as he felt a pair of strong arms wrap around him. “Hey Sal, get him sedated.” Lucas felt the needle go in even as he struggled, punched, and kicked against the steel-like muscles of his captors. “Ah gentlemen, I see you’ve caught the little fan of mine. Bring him to Dr. Brite’s lab.” Armistand’s voice said from behind him. “Yes sir,” the guards answered and Lucas could only count three heavy footsteps until he faded from consciousness. ------ When he woke up, he felt the cold metal floor on the side of his face and his stomach. He groggily opened his eyes and realized he still couldn’t move. “Ah you’re awake. I’m Dr. Burton Brite,” Lucas recognized the voice as the scientist from earlier. “Well someone is certainly feeling lucky this Dependence Day. Mr. Armistand here has offered to change your life instead of having you rehabilitated. All you have to do is say yes.” “Wha…?” Was all Lucas could get out. Dr. Brite shrugged, “Good enough. Keep his mic on. I want to hear this too. Mike, you want some lube?” “Nah,” Lucas couldn’t see Mike and he could barely hear him as the doors shut. “I’ll just have my new plaything suck me off for this. Give him a good meal.” All Lucas heard before the doors closed was the men in the room laughing. Then the machine whirred to life, drowning out all noise from outside. Fear gripped his pounding heart. He almost wanted to cry, he had no idea what they were going to do to him. Suddenly, his arm began to move. He wasn’t in control of it as it flailed to his side. The same started happening to his legs until it settled down, arms laying out to either side and his legs spread apart. He slowly gained clarity in his vision, but then he began to see what had happened. While his arms and legs were flopping about, they were lengthening, and even as they lay still now, were growing longer right in front of his eyes. Lucas’s eyes widened, “Oh my god, they are going to make me lose my mind by pumping me full of masculinity!” His heart rate shot up and that only seemed to push the transformation along. It felt as if someone was slowly massaging his spine. Feeling his chest and stomach rub against the floor, he could tell he was still growing taller. He tried to mentally resist it, but it was useless. Then, the feeling stopped. Lucas breathed a sigh of relief. It was over and he still had his sanity. A faint smile began to creep across his face before it stopped. Every muscle in his body began to spasm before returning to their original position. He knew what was coming next. Still on his stomach, his head facing to his side, he could only watch in horror as his arm began to grow thick with sinew. He could even see the rise in the ridge of his triceps; they were growing so big. Even relaxed his arms would strain sleeves. He watched the growth travel down his forearm, forcing it to be meatier. Then his hands stretched along the floor. Lucas thought with hands that size he could palm a basketball. The paralysis still holding him in place, he couldn't see what was happening to his body aside from his shoulder becoming the size of a cannonball. All he had to go on was sensation. He could feel his pecs press into the floor, pushing his torso away from the cold metal. He could feel the pants they left on his grow tighter until they looked like they were painted on. He could feel his shoes begin to buckle against the growing mass of his feet. How he wished he could see that. Then, he felt something wet. It was in his crotch. The sensation was alien. He didn’t know what was happening. Did he pee himself? Was he bleeding? Just as those thoughts entered his mind, his hips began to move. Suddenly the wet sensation wasn't worrying to him, it was pleasurable. He continued to buck his hips against the floor. Had he not been overrun by the rush of hormones, he would have realized his cock had pushed the zipper down and was rubbing it against the floor like a horny beast. Lucas had no idea he had doused his underwear and the floor with his precum. Nor did he care. All he cared about was the euphoria he was feeling from his cock. His deeper moans were garbled as his face began to rearrange. Straighter teeth, a more handsome face, brighter hair. Everything that made a man who Accepted the burden of masculine so attractive. Once his pants and shoes had grown tight enough, they burst off of him. And with a final, powerful thrust, Lucas let out a deep, lustful moan, splattering the floor and his chest with years-worth of sexually repressed cum. He laid on the floor panting as the doors hissed open and Mike Armistand stepped in with a wicked grin, “Okay so now that your head is a bit more clear, how about we make a deal. You keep quiet about what you saw and heard today and I move you into a position I think you’ll like. Remember, this process is reversible.” Lucas gulped. ------ “Another Dependence gone well. All protesters were dispersed by the Montag Corporation Security Force, so remember to pay your security fees. The increase in the average testosterone was culled today and your nation thanks you for it,” Mike’s handsome face filled the screens of anyone watching NewsSpeak that evening and his voice filled their ears. “And that’s the top story of the day. Now let’s head over to the weather board to see what the weather in Altimore will be like this week.” Mike kept that handsome smile on his face, “We have a new weatherman here at NewsSpeak. Please give a warm welcome to Luke Atwood!” The platinum blonde stud standing in front of the weather forecast smiled and gave a friendly wave as the rest of the crew clapped for exactly tens seconds. “Luke, how was your day?” Mike asked. “Well it is Dependence Day and I…” He threw his right arm into a bicep flex, the bulbous muscle straining the sleeve of his stretch polo. And out of frame of the camera, he grope the hard cock angled towards his hip. “...had a great one.” “Good to hear Luke and thank you for joining our team. Now how about the weather?” “Ah yes,” Lucas went on to describe what to expect that week. He was received well by the audience. His perfectly styled platinum blonde hair and killer smiled became widely recognized by the end of the week. His warm voice and demeanor made everyone feel like he was just one of them. And of course no one could take their eyes off his wide back as he turned to point at the map and the occasional shot of his pert ass barely held back by his slacks made it into some of the ‘tabloids.’ Meanwhile back at their desks, Mike and Farrah were pleasuring themselves, looking at Luke in his tailored clothes. Luke would return the gesture when his segment was over. Once the whole show was coming to a close, the hot cast of NewsSpeak came together for a nightly send off. “Thank you for watching NewsSpeak,” Farrah said. “Where the news speaks to you,” Mike continued. “And a good finish to your Dependence Day. Remember…” The whole cast then joined in, “OUR future depends on YOU.”
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