The Memory of Water: How Post-Glacial Sea-Level Rise May Have Seeded Humanity's Flood Myths — And What That Tells Us About Ourselves

A Cambridge maritime historian's viral thread sparks debate about whether ancient stories encode 12,000 years of environmental memory—or whether we're just pattern-matching again


When maritime historian Nick Collins posted a thread claiming that flood myths from India to Mesopotamia to Southeast Asia preserve memories of post-Ice Age sea-level rise, it struck a nerve. The geological core—roughly 120 metres of sea-level rise between 20,000 and 6,000 years ago, drowning vast coastal plains from Sundaland to the Persian Gulf—is solid science. The interpretive leap—that specific myths encode specific events across millennia—is more contested. This article examines the evidence, the skeptics, the parallels to Erich von Däniken's methods, and the rigorous academic work of Patrick Nunn on Aboriginal Australian oral traditions dating back 7,000 to 13,000 years. It explores what geomythology can and cannot claim, where the linkages hold and where they fray, and what this all reveals about humanity's capacity for long-term memory, our relationship with a changing planet, and the enduring human impulse to wrap fact in story.


The Thread That Launched a Thousand Think-Pieces

Nick Collins is not a crank. A Cambridge-educated maritime historian who spent decades in the shipping industry at firms like Clarksons, he has published a trilogy on maritime trade history, including How Maritime Trade and the Indian Subcontinent Shaped the World, which was shortlisted for awards. His Substack serialization "The True Cradle" is promotional material for a graphic-novel-style project, and his Episode 2 thread on flood myths matched his documented focus on drowned coasts and early maritime history.

The thread made a series of claims: that sea levels rose approximately 120 metres after the Last Glacial Maximum; that this rise drowned the land bridge connecting India and Sri Lanka, the vast Sundaland shelf connecting mainland Southeast Asia to Sumatra, Java, and Borneo, and the low-lying plain that became the Persian Gulf; and that these events occurred in three "great surges" around 12,000, 9,500, and 5,600 BC. Collins then argued that flood stories from the Indian Manu to Mesopotamian deluge narratives to Tamil Kumari Kandam traditions preserve cultural memories of these inundations.

The geological claims are "largely authentic and well-supported by science," as one analysis put it. The interpretive links to specific myths are "plausible but more speculative." The post presents "a popularized version of real events rather than pure fiction."

But the thread also attracted comparisons to Erich von Däniken, the Swiss author of Chariots of the Gods? who built a career arguing that ancient myths preserve memories of extraterrestrial visitors. The parallel is not in content but in method: both start from widespread folklore, claim the stories encode real traumatic events, position themselves against a supposed scholarly consensus that dismissed everything as myth, and attract popular audiences by suggesting official history is incomplete.

"Both authors practice a form of 'myth as memory of real catastrophe/event,'" noted one commentary, "but von Däniken's version is fringe pseudoscience that has been extensively criticized for selective evidence, cultural misreadings, and underestimating human capabilities. Collins is working from a solid geological foundation and offering a more restrained (though still assertive) cultural interpretation."

The question, then, is not whether Collins is a fraud—he isn't—but whether his linkages are robust. And that requires examining the evidence case by case.


The Geology Is Not in Dispute

The foundational claims about sea-level rise are standard paleogeography. Around 20,000 to 26,000 years before present, global sea levels were approximately 120 to 130 metres lower than today. The rise to near-modern levels occurred mainly between 18,000 and 6,000 years ago, with accelerated phases known as Meltwater Pulses—Pulse 1A around 14,500 to 14,000 years ago, Pulse 1B around 11,500 to 11,000 years ago—punctuating the gradual transgression.

The India-Sri Lanka land bridge existed. Lower sea levels exposed the shelf across the Palk Strait, connecting the island to the mainland until progressive inundation severed the connection. Sundaland was real and enormous: at the Last Glacial Maximum, the exposed Sunda Shelf connected mainland Southeast Asia with Sumatra, Java, Borneo, and other islands into a contiguous landmass of one to two million square kilometres or more. The Persian Gulf was a low-lying, potentially habitable plain before post-glacial sea-level rise filled it.

"Sea-level rise of ~120 m after the Last Glacial Maximum: Correct," confirmed one scientific assessment. "Sundaland: Real and large. It was progressively flooded, especially during rapid meltwater pulses, leaving today's islands."

The timing of Collins's "three great surges" is a reasonable simplification. Exact local timing and relative sea-level curves vary by region due to isostasy and other factors, but the broad sequence—rapid rise punctuated by pulses, continuing into the mid-Holocene—is accurate. Total land loss across continental shelves globally was enormous, tens of millions of square kilometres.

What remains uncertain is not the geology but its human impact. Human populations certainly lived on these coastal plains. Rapid inundation would have been disruptive, even traumatic. But how disruptive, and whether that disruption left cultural traces, is the interpretive question.


The Strongest Evidence Comes from Australia

The most rigorous academic work linking oral traditions to post-glacial sea-level rise comes not from Collins but from Patrick Nunn, Professor of Geography at the University of the Sunshine Coast in Australia. His 2016 paper with Nicholas Reid, "Aboriginal Memories of Inundation of the Australian Coast Dating from More than 7000 Years Ago," published in Australian Geographer, is the field's landmark study.

Nunn and Reid collected documented Aboriginal stories from 21 locations around the Australian coastline—accounts of former coastlines now underwater, land bridges that disappeared, dry land that became sea or islands, hunting grounds that flooded. For each site, they determined the minimum water depth required for the story's geographic details to be true, using local bathymetry. They then compared those depths to independent post-glacial sea-level curves to calculate the most recent time the described conditions could have been observed—yielding minimum ages for the stories.

The results were striking: estimated ages ranged from roughly 7,250 to 13,070 calibrated years before present. Stories included Port Phillip Bay as a kangaroo hunting ground, Kangaroo Island walkable from the mainland via a land bridge, and islands off Queensland that were once connected to the coast.

"A related 2016 synthesis paper in Environment and History examines six well-documented sites in more detail, with ages of 7,500–13,400 years BP," noted one review. "Later work notes stories from at least 27 locations."

Nunn argues these provide empirical corroboration of post-glacial sea-level rise and demonstrate that oral traditions in continuous cultures can preserve accurate observations across hundreds of generations—far longer than many earlier scholars assumed possible. His book The Edge of Memory (2018) synthesizes this work and places it in global context, while Worlds in Shadow (2021) expands on submerged landscapes worldwide.

The work is "generally well-regarded in geography, coastal science, and geomythology circles for its careful matching of ethnographic detail to independent geological data," one analysis noted. "It challenges earlier skepticism about the reliability of oral history over long timescales, especially in cultures with strong continuity and knowledge-transmission systems like Aboriginal Australia."


The Method Behind the Claims

Geomythology—the study of how myths may encode real geological events—has a name, a history, and a methodology. The term was coined in 1968 by U.S. Geological Survey geologist Dorothy Vitaliano, who expanded on it in her 1973 book Legends of the Earth. A 2004 session at the International Geological Congress and a 2007 Geological Society of London volume, Myth and Geology, helped establish it more formally.

The methodology is deliberately multidisciplinary, combining geology, archaeology, history, folklore studies, anthropology, linguistics, and paleoclimatology. Typical steps include: collecting and documenting traditions, preferably place-specific accounts with consistent geographic details; identifying potential geological referents; independent geological correlation and dating using bathymetry, sea-level curves, radiometric dating, and paleoshoreline reconstructions; assessing transmission and cultural filters; and testing through multiple independent lines of evidence.

"Geomythology's methodology is hypothesis-driven correlation between narrative and independent geological evidence," one methodological review explained. "When applied carefully, it expands the archive of human environmental observation into deep time; when applied loosely, it becomes just another form of speculative myth-hunting."

The strengths are real: geomythology can provide potential eyewitness data for events beyond written records, highlight the longevity and sophistication of oral knowledge systems, encourage respectful engagement with Indigenous knowledge, and generate testable hypotheses. But the limitations are equally real: interpretive subjectivity and confirmation bias, transmission problems, ethnocentrism risk, and falsifiability challenges.

"The most robust geomythological work (such as Nunn's Australian coastal studies) tightly constrains claims with independent physical data, treats ages as minima, acknowledges cultural filtering, and avoids overclaiming universality," the review continued. "Weaker applications risk circular reasoning or treating coincidence as causation."

Collins, it should be noted, is not practicing geomythology in the academic sense. He is synthesizing and popularizing. The question is whether his synthesis respects the constraints that rigorous geomythology demands.


Where the Linkages Hold and Where They Fray

Assessing the robustness of Collins's specific claims requires distinguishing between cases.

Southeast Asian and Sundaland flood stories show moderate-to-good robustness. Collins notes a high concentration of stories describing sea rise rather than rain, survivors climbing to high ground rather than boarding boats. This matches patterns discussed by others, including Stephen Oppenheimer, who highlighted the clustering of flood myths around Sundaland and suggested they encode memories of the shelf's drowning.

"Oral traditions in the region do appear denser around former shelves, and rapid flooding of low-lying tropical coasts would leave strong memories," one assessment noted. "Still, not every story is proven to date precisely to the meltwater pulses."

The Manu and Mesopotamian flood narratives show weaker specificity. The Manu-Matsya story involves a warning, a boat, and survival of a great flood. Mesopotamian accounts—Ziusudra, Atrahasis, Utnapishtim—and the biblical Noah share structural similarities. These could preserve memories of coastal inundation or the filling of the Persian Gulf. Or they could stem from major river floods, local disasters, or independent mythic motifs.

"The timing of the written versions is much later (second–first millennium BCE), so direct transmission across 5,000–10,000+ years is harder to demonstrate than for continuous oral cultures like Aboriginal Australia," one analysis cautioned. "Collins treats them as regional memories of the same broad event; this is reasonable speculation but not tightly constrained by evidence."

Kumari Kandam, the Tamil legendary lost land sometimes conflated with Lemuria, shows the weakest linkage. Tamil traditions of lost southern lands and floods exist in Sangam literature. Limited coastal submergence of the continental shelf off southern India and Sri Lanka is real. But the grand "lost continent" version is a later elaboration influenced by 19th-century Lemuria ideas and is not supported by geology.

"Mainstream geology and archaeology reject a large sunken continent south of India during human times," one commentary stated bluntly. "Plate tectonics and bathymetry show no such feature on human timescales."

The Black Sea deluge hypothesis, proposed by Ryan and Pitman in 1997, offers a cautionary parallel. The idea that catastrophic Mediterranean inflow into a lower Black Sea lake around 7,500 to 8,800 years ago inspired Near Eastern flood myths was once popular. Subsequent work has largely favoured more gradual reconnection, and underwater archaeology has not produced clear evidence of sudden mass displacement.

"It illustrates a recurring risk in geomythology," one review noted. "An attractive catastrophic event is proposed, linked to famous myths, and then the geological or chronological details fail to hold."


The von Däniken Problem

The comparison to Erich von Däniken is uncomfortable but instructive. The Swiss author's Chariots of the Gods? (1968) argued that ancient myths, religious texts, and folklore preserve distorted memories of extraterrestrial visits. Stories of flying vehicles, powerful beings descending from the sky, and sudden leaps in civilization were, he claimed, misunderstood eyewitness accounts that mainstream archaeology had dismissed as myth.

Collins makes a structurally similar move: "Scholars filed it under myth, but it was actually memory of something real." But the proposed real event is fundamentally different—not alien contact but well-documented sea-level rise.

"Both start from widespread, cross-cultural folklore. Both claim the stories encode real, traumatic, large-scale events that oral traditions preserved for millennia. Both position themselves against a supposed scholarly consensus that simply labeled everything 'myth' without serious investigation," one analysis observed. "Both attract popular audiences by suggesting the official history is incomplete or willfully incomplete."

But the differences are crucial. Von Däniken's core claims center on ancient astronauts and require inventing new physics, unknown technologies, and extraterrestrial visitors. Collins's claims rest on established geology and paleogeography. The interpretive step—that certain flood traditions specifically remember these marine transgressions—is more speculative but does not require pseudo-science.

"Collins is working from a solid geological foundation and offering a more restrained (though still assertive) cultural interpretation," the analysis concluded. "The shared rhetorical move—'this was real, not just myth'—explains why the two can feel similar even when their proposed 'real events' are completely different."

The lesson is not that Collins is von Däniken. It is that the rhetorical structure of "myth as memory" is powerful and seductive, and it can be deployed with varying degrees of rigor. The question for any particular claim is whether the evidence supports the interpretive leap.


Others Who Have Walked This Path

Collins is not alone in linking flood myths to post-glacial sea-level rise. The academic precedents range from rigorous to speculative.

Patrick Nunn is the leading academic voice, with multiple peer-reviewed papers and books systematically linking Indigenous oral traditions to post-glacial coastal change. His work on Australian Aboriginal stories provides the strongest empirical support for the general principle. He has extended the approach to northwest Europe, with forthcoming work on Celtic traditions, and to the Pacific Islands.

Stephen Oppenheimer, in works on Southeast Asian prehistory and genetics, highlighted the clustering of flood myths around Sundaland and suggested they encode memories of the shelf's drowning. His work is more speculative than Nunn's but grounded in real geography.

Graham Hancock, in popular books like Underworld and Fingerprints of the Gods, extensively links global flood myths, drowned coasts, and post-Ice Age sea-level rise to a lost advanced civilization. His work is "more speculative and heavily criticized for overreach, but thematically overlapping with Collins on the 'drowned worlds remembered in myth' theme."

The broader geomythology literature examines Australian, European—Lyonesse, Doggerland-related traditions—and some Indian coastal stories, proposing that rising seas left traces in folklore. The Black Sea deluge hypotheses have also been tied to flood myths, though that is a more localized, later event.

"In short, Collins is not inventing the linkage," one analysis concluded. "He is popularizing and synthesizing ideas that have academic precedents (especially Nunn's work) and popular ones (Hancock, Oppenheimer). The Australian cases provide the most robust empirical support for the general principle. Linking the classic Near Eastern and Indian literary flood narratives specifically to the full ~120 m rise remains more conjectural."


The Mechanics of Deep Memory

How could oral traditions preserve accurate observations across hundreds of generations? The answer lies in sophisticated cultural technologies.

Oral cultures evolved information-management systems: repetition and redundancy, place-based mnemonics like songlines and the method of loci, restricted specialist performers, multi-generational audiences for error-checking, and performance rules that reduce copy error. These function like cultural ratchets. When those systems remain intact, fidelity is high; when they break—through migration, language shift, literacy overlay, or social disruption—the signal becomes noisy or is re-framed as pure cosmology.

"Aboriginal cultural practices—cross-generational cross-checking, songlines, and careful transmission of knowledge—help explain the apparent high fidelity and longevity of these traditions," one review noted.

But there are limits. Evidence from the strongest cases suggests that under optimal conditions, accurate observational cores can survive 7,000 to 10,000 years, possibly a bit longer. Beyond that threshold, geographic specificity and chronological fidelity appear to degrade sharply.

"This sets a practical upper bound: claims of unbroken 15,000- or 20,000-year memories become far more speculative," one analysis noted. "The 'edge of memory' is real but finite."

The implication is that cultural continuity is the decisive variable. Nunn's strongest cases succeed precisely because of continuous, place-based oral cultures with sophisticated mnemonic systems. Where cultural continuity was broken by migration, conquest, language shift, or later literacy, the signal degrades or is re-mythologised.

"This is why Australian Aboriginal and some Celtic/Pacific traditions currently offer cleaner correlations than, for example, the classical Mesopotamian or Vedic flood narratives, which passed through multiple literary and theological filters," one commentary explained.


Two Distinctions Often Blurred

Popular accounts often collapse two useful distinctions.

Observation versus explanation. Some stories primarily record what happened—the sea rose, land disappeared. Others primarily explain why—divine anger, ancestral punishment, moral failing. Geomythology works best on the observational core; the explanatory layer is cultural and secondary.

Local versus global flood. Most robust geomyths are local or regional coastal inundations. The classic "world-destroying deluge" motif is more likely a literary or cosmological amplification than a single global event. Collapsing the two creates the von Däniken/Hancock-style overreach that weakens the more careful research.

"Stories may therefore compress multi-millennial change into a single dramatic 'flood,' or selectively remember the most traumatic pulses," one analysis noted. "This helps explain why some Southeast Asian and Australian accounts emphasise the sea advancing 'without rain' and people simply moving upslope, while Near Eastern literary versions add divine warning, boats, and moral judgment. The geological reality is a drawn-out transgression; the cultural memory often heightens the drama."


What This Tells Us About Humanity

The evidence from deep-time oral traditions reveals something remarkable about human cognitive and cultural capacities. Under the right conditions—cultural continuity, specialist knowledge-keepers, mnemonic systems, and high-stakes content—accurate observational knowledge about the environment can survive 7,000 to 10,000 years or more. That is hundreds of generations.

"This is not magic; it is a sophisticated technology of the mind and of social organisation," one philosophical reflection noted. "Oral cultures developed reliable methods for encoding, error-checking, and transmitting complex data about landscape, hazard, and history. Literacy is powerful, but it is not the only high-fidelity system humans have ever used."

We are a species that notices, remembers, and warns. Coastal flooding, volcanic eruptions, and sudden landscape change left deep marks precisely because they threatened survival. The persistence of these memories suggests that humans evolved or culturally refined strong incentives to retain rare but catastrophic environmental information. Forgetting was costly; remembering conferred advantage.

"The strongest memories concern threats to survival: rising seas, eruptions, landscape loss," one analysis observed. "These traditions helped later generations understand that the environment can change dramatically and that relocation or altered practices may be required. Knowledge is retained because forgetting was costly."

But the evidence also reveals fragility. The strongest cases succeed where people remained in place, or stayed connected to place, for millennia. Cultural continuity is a rare and precious achievement. Where that continuity broke, the signal became noisier or was transformed into pure myth.

This underscores both the resilience and the vulnerability of human knowledge systems. We are capable of extraordinary long-term cultural memory, yet that memory is easily disrupted.


The Philosophy of Myth and Knowledge

The material challenges a sharp modern dichotomy between "myth" and "history" or between "superstition" and "science." Many traditional narratives contain empirical cores wrapped in cultural, moral, or cosmological clothing. Observation and explanation were not separated the way they often are today.

"Ancestors recorded what they saw and then interpreted it within the frameworks available to them," one philosophical reflection noted. "The result is neither pure fiction nor pure data; it is a hybrid form of knowledge that carried both fact and meaning across deep time."

This has implications for epistemology: human knowledge has always been situated, narrative, and value-laden. The scientific method is a powerful refinement, not the first or only way of knowing the world. Geomythology shows that pre-scientific peoples were careful observers who could generate lasting, testable insights about the Earth.

"Myths that survive longest tend to encode high-stakes, rare, or multi-generational threats," one analysis noted. "Cognitive science and evolutionary approaches suggest storytelling itself evolved partly as a portable knowledge-storage technology: attention-grabbing narrative plus mnemonic structure plus social enforcement of accuracy. Flood and drowning stories may therefore be selected for retention precisely because forgetting them was costly."

This reframes "myth" less as fantasy and more as a long-term survival archive.


Purpose and the Long View

What does this say about humanity's purpose? The evidence does not dictate a single answer. Purpose is not something geology or folklore can prove. But the patterns suggest several coherent readings.

Stewardship or witness. Humans have repeatedly shown a capacity to notice major changes in the Earth, encode them in durable cultural forms, and pass them forward. One reading is that part of what humans do—and perhaps what we are suited for—is to serve as long-term witnesses and record-keepers of the planet's history.

Adaptive survivors. The strongest memories concern threats to survival. Knowledge is retained because forgetting was costly. From a pragmatic standpoint, humanity's "purpose" appears tied to endurance: learning from past upheavals so that the species can continue.

Meaning-makers. People did not merely record events; they wrapped them in narrative, moral, and cosmological frameworks. Observation and significance travelled together. Human purpose may include interpreting experience—turning raw change into coherent stories that orient communities.

No inherent purpose. The patterns reveal capacities and constraints, not a predetermined end. Purpose is what communities or individuals choose to pursue in light of those facts.

"In the end, the material suggests that whatever purposes humans adopt, they have long included watching the world change and trying to remember what they saw," one reflection concluded. "That is a demonstrable part of the human record. Whether it constitutes the purpose, or merely one enduring activity among others, remains a question the evidence itself does not settle."


What Remains to Be Done

The field has clear priorities. Systematic collection and mapping of Southeast Asian and Indian Ocean coastal oral traditions against high-resolution paleoshoreline models remains underdeveloped compared with Australia. Integration with archaeology and genetics could test whether population bottlenecks, migration pulses, or abandonment of coastal sites temporally match meltwater pulses and the estimated ages of stories. Controlled comparison of story variants across neighbouring groups could measure how rapidly geographic detail erodes or stabilises. Explicit protocols for distinguishing genuine deep-time memory from later diffusion of flood motifs are needed.

"Australia currently dominates the rigorous end of the field because of exceptional cultural continuity and good geological dating," one analysis noted. "Equivalent systematic work in Sundaland, the Persian Gulf margins, northwest Europe beyond the Celtic fringe, and parts of the Americas is thinner. The next major advances will likely come from combining high-resolution bathymetry and sea-level models with carefully documented, place-specific oral corpora and, where possible, archaeological or genetic correlates of population movement or coastal abandonment."

The contemporary relevance is significant. If oral traditions can preserve accurate environmental observations for 7,000 to 13,000 years, they become a form of long-baseline data for understanding human responses to sea-level rise. Ancestral strategies of relocation, resource shifting, and narrative warning systems may hold practical lessons.

"If oral traditions can preserve accurate environmental observations for 7,000–13,000 years, they become a form of long-baseline data for understanding human responses to sea-level rise," one review noted. "At the same time, the risk of romanticising 'Indigenous knowledge' or extracting it without context remains real. The most productive stance treats these traditions as complementary archives—neither infallible nor dismissible."


A Final Reflection

The thread that started this conversation was promotional material for a graphic novel. It was posted by a maritime historian with genuine expertise, making claims that were mostly accurate about geology and mostly speculative about culture. It attracted comparisons to Erich von Däniken and citations of Patrick Nunn, both of which are instructive.

What emerges from the evidence is a picture of humanity as a long-memoried, story-making, place-attached species that has been watching the Earth change for thousands of years and trying—sometimes successfully—to remember what it saw. Under optimal conditions, accurate observational knowledge can survive hundreds of generations. Where continuity breaks, the signal degrades into myth or disappears.

The most defensible claim is that some coastal and drowning traditions in some continuous cultures preserve real memories of post-glacial sea-level rise and related landscape change. Extending this to "nearly every culture on earth still remembers the same event" or to a single global catastrophe remains an over-reach. Multiple independent regional inundations, local river floods, tsunamis, and later literary elaborations all contributed to the worldwide distribution of flood motifs.

"Precision about geography, culture, and chronology keeps the insight powerful rather than diluted," one analysis concluded.

The irony is that the popular version—the one that says "scientists dismissed this as myth, but it was real"—is both true and misleading. Scientists did often dismiss oral traditions as unreliable. But the careful work of the last two decades has shown that some traditions are reliable, under specific conditions, for specific reasons. The insight is not that all myths are true. It is that some myths contain testable observations of real events, and that human cultures have developed sophisticated technologies for transmitting those observations across deep time.

That is a more modest claim than the viral thread implies. But it is also more remarkable. We are a species that can remember the drowning of the world for ten thousand years, if we stay in one place long enough and tell the story right. Whether we will remember what we are doing now, as the seas rise again, is another question entirely.


References

Bender, B. (2019). The Edge of Memory: Ancient Stories, Oral Tradition and the Post-Glacial World. Bloomsbury Sigma.

Collins, N. (2024). "The True Cradle, Episode 2." Substack.

Nunn, P. D. (2018). The Edge of Memory: Ancient Stories, Oral Tradition and the Post-Glacial World. Bloomsbury Sigma.

Nunn, P. D. (2021). Worlds in Shadow: Submerged Lands in Science, Memory and Myth. Bloomsbury.

Nunn, P. D., & Reid, N. J. (2016). "Aboriginal Memories of Inundation of the Australian Coast Dating from More than 7000 Years Ago." Australian Geographer, 47(1), 11-47.

Oppenheimer, S. (1998). Eden in the East: The Drowned Continent of Southeast Asia. Weidenfeld & Nicolson.

Piccardi, L., & Masse, W. B. (Eds.). (2007). Myth and Geology. Geological Society of London, Special Publications, 273.

Ryan, W., & Pitman, W. (1997). Noah's Flood: The New Scientific Discoveries About the Event That Changed History. Simon & Schuster.

Vitaliano, D. B. (1973). Legends of the Earth: Their Geologic Origins. Indiana University Press.

Von Däniken, E. (1968). Chariots of the Gods? Unsolved Mysteries of the Past. Econ-Verlag.


#Geomythology #SeaLevelRise #OralHistory #Archaeology #ClimateChange #AncientMyths #HumanEvolution #DeepTime

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