#n vision 74

[zikbitume]

Japanese car fan, would follow @autoass on Twitter

[kansukansu]

everyone say hello to hyundai girl

[itcars]

Hyundai N Vision 74

Image by Frederick Unflath || IG

[neutron669]

N Vision 74 near lake Como

[indeedgoodman]

[masoncarr2244]

2022 Hyundai N Vision 74

[mehanizem]

Hyundai N Vision 74

[locrianking]

That sounds pretty cool 😎!! But in general I think hydrogen powered cars are misunderstood and don't really have a future, compared to "regular" electric cars. But still great project :)

oh yeah, hydrogen has a looooooong way to go. right now, hydrogen ICEs are really only an option if you’re interested in, uh, having your car explode. but i don’t think we should give up on it! i’m extremely anti-lithium ion for many reasons (i’ve made multiple posts on the topic, if you’re interested in hearing my reasoning), and while i think e-fuel is probably our current best path forwards, i’d love to see more time + research go into hydrogen ICEs :))

[grayrazor]

Whelp, looks like somebody's taking their shot at it. Specifically Hyundai.

Somebody should steal what little thunder the Cybertruck has by making an EV that actually looks like an ‘80s “wedge car.”

Make Al’s future car from Quantum Leap real.

[carolmunson]

must be a kind of blind love

(older!modern!eddie - interlude blurbie) orange colored sky setlist

a/n: wrote this little older!eddie blurbie in honor of me needing glasses. my birthday is tomorrow so consider this an early present from me. this doesn't have to fit in order of any time line, it's just cute and fluffy. however, there are some exciting revelations in here.

tw: references to smut, foul language, otherwise pretty tame. idiots in love.

"Yyyyell-o." "You gotta stop answering the phone like that, Ed."

"It's how I always answer the phone, baby -- it's like a muscle memory."

"Ooh, muscle memory, big word for you," you chuckle, you can hear him click clacking against his keyboard on the other end, "You busy?"

"Not too busy, you okay?" he asks, the click clacking slows down to a stop, you hear the roll of his desk chair and some shuffling, the sound of an iPhone being unplugged from his computer.

"So um, I just left the doctors..."

"Okay before you finish what you're saying, I need you to never start a phone call with 'I just left the doctors...' fours days after we had sex," he interrupts, "We clear on that?"

You laugh, it's hearty and bubbly, enough to calm him from the heart racing 'what ifs' running through his head, "Yes, we're clear -- but you knew I had this doctor's appointment!"

"I know, but still -- how'd it go? Everything good?"

"Well..." you start, "It was an eye doctor appointment, like, an optometrist."

"I know what an optomestrist is, baby girl," he says sweetly, "But thank you for clarifying."

"Anyway I went and got my eyes check and uh..." you trail off, not wanting to say it. You can hear the low giggle coming from his throat, practically see the smile in his next sentence.

"Aw, you need glasses, don't you, peach?" he smirks into his question, heading down the metal staircase into the kitchen to refill his coffee cup.

"Yeah," you say poutily, "And now my eyes hurt cause they did dialysis on my eyes I mean -- dialated my eyes, whoops."

"I would hope they didn't perform dialysis on your eyes, jesus," he still can't hold back his gruff giggle, "Is it bad? What's your perscription?"

"I think it's honestly just an astigmatism? But better safe than sorry," you explain, "Don't make fun of me."

"Oh baby, I'm gonna make fun of you," Eddie pops the mug into the microwave, "Now you know how I feel every time you tell me to put my glasses on. Not fun gettin' old, is it?"

"You make it look pretty fun," you shrug, walking over to the train. The printed out paper with your perscription on it is blinding outside, the white glaring into your dilated pupils, "Fuck that's bright."

"I'm almost done with work for today, you wanna just come to mine?" he asks, "We can go look for frames for you."

"You're gonna be mean," you complain, "I don't like when you're mean."

"I won't be mean, I promise."

"Do you want me to come over?" you ask.

He bites his tongue, wanting to reply with a snappy 'Would I have invited you if I didn't?' but he can tell you just need the reassurance.

"I'd love to see you," his voice warm honey while it drips into the receiver, "Of course I want you to come over. You getting on the train?"

"Yeah I'm like, maybe twenty minutes way," you smile.

"Well then I'll see you in twenty, okay?" "Okay."

He spends the first couple minutes teasing you when you get in to get it out of his system, peppering you with kisses when your fake pout gets too cute for him. Eddie gives you his glasses to try on but you squint.

"These are too blurry," you shake your head, scrunching your nose in a way that has him melting.

"Well that's cause my visions a little worse than yours," he shrugs, plucking them off your face by the bridge and popping them onto his own.

"I think your glasses are nice," you shrug, "They make you look handsome."

"Handsome, huh?" he quirks a brow, "I think they make me look like my uncle. He's like, 74."

"You don't look 74," you roll your eyes.

"No?"

"No, babe," you say sweetly, tilting your head when you look at him, "You look at least 72."

He clicks his tongue and puffs out a breath, "How did I know?"

"You love it," you smirk, kissing his cheek and then the tip of his nose.

"Yeah, yeah, I love it," he nods along, tilting his head up to kiss your lips. He pulls you in close to him, taking a seat on one of the barstools at the kitchen island where you stand between his thighs.

Yeah, yeah, I love it. I love you. I think I love you.

"When your eyes feel a little less blurry you wanna look for some frames?" he asks, noses touching. You nod, feeling safe in his hold, eyes fluttering closed when he kisses your cheek. Eddie's full lips kiss from your cheek to your jaw, to the top of your neck -- implying all the ideas he has in mind to pass the time.

"We can fool around if you want," he asks against your skin, "That sound good to you, four eyes?"

You groan into a laugh, shoving him lightly off you, "Fuck you."

Laughing in the kitchen together is his new favorite past time.

Cat-eye, round, square, wire-rimmed, low brow -- there's too many options. You chew on your lower lip looking at the walls of frames, trying to not get in the way of other people while they grab pairs to try on in the brightly lit mirrors.

"Where do I even start?" you ask yourself, feeling Eddie close behind you. His hand presses against your mid back, leading you over to a wall that doesn't have people crowded around it. It gives you a moment to breathe, he rubs your shoulder as it relaxes.

"What types of sunglasses to you normally wear?" he asks, "That's a good place to start."

You had a few fake pairs of Raybans, a couple cat-eye frames from when you were in your early twenties. One pair of rimless glasses from a 90s party that you don't totally hate. You reach for the Wayferer shaped ones, wire rim bottom and flat top -- you find it accentuates your brows in a way that isn't quite right. They sit uneven on your face.

"These are awful," you mumble, taking them off.

"No they're not," he assures. He grabs a few pairs that are sort of ridiculous just to get you laughing -- big wild pairs with bright colors, a pair of transition lens aviators that look straight out of a serial killer movie, exaggerated cat eye lenses that he said his great aunt would've worn in the 80s. He heals every tease with a gentle kiss to your temple or forehead just over the bridge of your nose.

Eventually he starts looking at sunglasses for himself while you gain the confidence to go for it on your own. It's not lost on him when some of the ladies who work there come over to see if he needs help that they're flirting, and to be fair, he's never one to not indulge. You catch his eye in an opposite mirror where he gives you a wink -- he blushes when you roll your eyes in return.

You finally think you've settled on a pair you like, one that surprises you. Thin wire rimmed, brushed gold, they sit slightly round over your face, dipping a bit onto the tops of your cheeks. They don't accentuate whatever is happening with your brow line, they almost feel like they're supposed to be there. Your next thought sounds like your mom in your ear -- They go with everything!

You push your hair back, seeing if you'll still like them with your hair out of the way and down again. You snap a picture -- well, you snap a few. You don't hate it.

"Hey," you call out, tapping on his shoulder when you get behind him, "What do you think?"

Eddie turns, smoothly taking off the new sunglasses he was considering, "Lemme see."

"Oh honey," he coos, "Oh my god you look like a sweet little secretary."

"Stop," you laugh, heat hitting your cheeks at his praise. "Gotta get you a type writer so you can come work for me," he eggs on playfully, "You can screen all my calls. Maybe earn some over time..."

"Don't be annoying," you chide, slapping at his arm when he snakes it around you.

"No, peach you look so sweet," he gushes, "Really."

"I don't look like a nerd?" you ask, looking into the mirror again.

"Of course you do," he confirms, "But that's what I like about them. Plus, they go with everything."

"We'll be like twins," you say with a nudge, "Yours are sort of like this but silver."

"You're right," he nods, "Look at that, nerds in love."

He gives you a quick kiss -- but both of your hearts sink when the weight of what he says hits both your ears. Nerds in love.

In love.

In love.

You hear him swallow and you do the same. There's a jitter to both of you after, like both of you are pretending to not have heard that sentence. Like it didn't happen.

"So you like these ones?" he asks, voice cracking like a teenager. He clears his throat before flagging over one of the women who offered to help him before, "Can we uh, can we get these set up with her prescription?"

The woman's smile is dazzling, perfect for retail -- you'd buy anything she told you to buy. She takes the pair in your hand and goes to work, calling you both over to the iPads by the check out desk to get the order in. Your heart hammers while you make your way over.

"Ed, I don't even know how much those cost," you say under your breath.

"It doesn't matter," he mumbles back, "You're not paying for 'em."

"Ed," you protest, "No." You shake your head, the serious look on your face makes his chest hot with embarrassment.

But he's quick, he's a loverboy for a reason, "Just think of it as insurance for all the jokes I get to make at your expense. I'm earning my right to bully you by buying them."

"You're so dumb," you huff, taking his hand while he reaches out to you to place your order.

"You love it."

"Yeah, yeah, I love it."

I love it, you think, I think I love you.

prev | next

[qwimblenorrisstan]

Control | William “Case” Calderon

Summary: Case’s nightmares have started getting worse. Marshall grows concerned while Adler warns him.

Word Count: ~1.7k

Warnings: Panic attacks, nightmares, zombies??, graphic descriptions of violence, rotting, torture, implied brainwashing, disassociation, Bo6 spoilers under the cut

A/N: this is just an expansion of how it’s mentioned that Case screams during the night in the Rook requested by a lovely anon, also yes, I might’ve taken advantage of the opportunity to make Adler shirtless, shhh, hope you enjoy<3

Requests are open!

He didn’t know why he was here again.

Harsh lights flooded his eyesight, the sterile smell of plastic gloves and white tiled flooring filling his nose. He was walking somewhere.

These halls were familiar. Red paint lined them, a phone sitting on a round table, and ahead of him—there it was.

The bathysphere.

Case tried digging his heels into the ground, the scratchy texture of the strange hospital-like gown they had him in. He couldn’t do this again. Not after the first trials, the first experiments, they had ruined him.

“Behave, Case-One.”

The men at his sides, soldiers, Pantheon, dragged him along regardless of his protests, right into the center.

An overwhelming sense of dread overcame him. He knew what happened here, what would happen. They’d let the water surround him, he’d be trapped, and they would—

He wouldn’t let it happen again. Couldn’t.

Case, or William, wrapped his hand around one of the guard’s arms, yanking forward and slamming his fist into the man’s head. He’d been carrying an AK-74. He lifted the gun, pulling the trigger, only for the man—soldier—thing in front of him to shatter into pieces like a poorly constructed doll.

He took a step back, turned, and tried to run only for the floor to melt beneath him. He was sinking, falling into some sort of abyss, and then she was there.

Harrow.

Everything was solid again, and now he was in a room. Bulletproof glass separated him and Jane Harrow as she looked through with cold precision.

She was a liar.

A traitor.

She’d taken everything from him and given him what he owed his life to all in one fell sweep.

“Good to see you again, Case.”

She smiled, but there was nothing warm behind her expression. He knew it was just a mask, like a plaster covering for the rotten thing that lay underneath. Case had seen what she wanted for the future of her little project.

A side door opened, and they dragged a small bearded man in, the gas surrounding him, the guard having a gas mask on to protect himself.

Just a few minutes of exposure, and Case knew what would happen. His pulse would start hammering, every fight or flight instinct kicking in as his body tried to figure out what the hell was wrong with him, searching through his past experiences to find a way to fix this, to fix him.

Except there wasn’t a cure.

His vision would start blurring at the edges, turning different shades of television static as the man in front of him turned into a creature of rotting flesh and peeling skin, ripped clothes, and undead eyes that knew nothing but hunger.

He would be terrified. Again. And he’d attack the thing. Again.

It had happened over and over, this gradual decline into madness and being completely out of control, watching his body act from the outside.

He tried resisting it, and he always failed. Still, he tried this time, even as his blood boiled beneath his skin, a creature trapped in his ribcage begging, demanding to be let out as he tried keeping the lock together.

But one more glance over at her, her sadistic smile, the knowing glint in her eyes, her poisonous lips, and her tongue that was made of a noose, and something in him shattered.

The lock.

He had lost control.

There was no resisting now, he knew that as the resounding screams of the man bounced around the inside of his head, his eyes pressing into his eyes, gouging, hands and nails shoving and ripping, maiming the poor man like the animal that they’d made Case into.

The creature he was.

Blood was everywhere, under his hands, his fingernails, in his eyes and staining the floors and his body, things he couldn’t scrub away, burning brands onto his skin and mind that not even the brainwashing, the torture, could make go away.

He opened his mouth, maybe to bite, maybe to yell, maybe to scream at the hand that fed him a poisoned apple, and absolutely nothing came out.

His body thrashed, clawing at itself as if his very bones were outgrowing his skin, tears of anger and sadness and confusion at himself and someone else—he couldn’t remember it now, who’d done this to him, but he wanted to hurt them.

William wanted to hurt them. Case didn’t know what he wanted.

“Stop him—“

Hands were on him, gloved, rough, trying to pull him around, restrain him, but he wouldn’t let them. He pulled, punched, anything he could, he couldn’t let them do this to him again.

Then their dark, near-void black helmets fell off, and he was greeted with bloodied pale skin, peeling and revealing the stringy, bloody muscular system underneath, the near glowing eyes with something otherworldly in them, something beyond hate and agony.

They growled and slammed their teeth together instead of speaking, and it was then that he was able to scream, and he knew it because he heard it echo around the room as they held him down, and began clawing into them with their blood-caked nails.

Who had they been before?

What were they now?

Would he turn into this?

Desperation turned to pure terror as he tried battering them away, feeling his skin rip and shred beneath them, every bite, every hit, going deeper and deeper, infecting him.

His vision blurred around the edges again, this time he assumed solely from tears, as he imagined—hoped, he was blacking out.

“Hold him down—“

A blurry voice faded in and out, hands still holding him down. But this wasn’t the rough, scratchy feeling of elastic gloves or excessive force on his battered body.

“Jesus, Case, snap the fuck out of it!”

He opened his eyes.

He was in his bed, Adler was on his right, Marshall on his left. Both held down an arm, maybe a leg if they could reach it. Sevati walked through the doorway of his room, rubbing her eyes.

“What the hell is going on in here?”

Her accent rolled thickly off her tongue as she analyzed the situation, their Case laying on a bed, forehead covered in sweat, pupils dilated and panting for breath, with Adler and Marshall holding him down.

“Case here is clearly experiencing some…issues.”

Adler said, a cigarette tucked neatly between his lips, a hint of smoke rolling off the end. He was wearing nothing but some tan cargo pants and the hint of boxers peeking out from there. He tried not to look too closely at the tiny hint of stomach chub followed by muscles with a thin layer of fat over them.

Marshall had been up late, wearing his work clothes, but missing the glasses he usually let himself wear when not on a mission. He had some turtleneck on that had to be itchy, and a pair of random military-grade pants.

They both eyed Case warily, clearly not knowing when the next complete breakdown might be.

Sev stood in the doorway, leaning against it, clad in only some shorts and a t-shirt, probably having just woken up.

“Let him go back to sleep. We have things to do tomorrow, and this can wait until morning.”

Her word seemed to be final, with Adler giving a noncommittal grunt and taking his cigarette between his fingers. There was a knowing look in his eye as if he recognized whatever he’d seen. The cigarette smelled like the expensive kind from where Case was.

His body slowly loosened and relaxed as whatever the hell had been in his dreams faded, as did the memory of it. He didn’t even know what had scared him that badly, into attacking his allies while in a safe location.

As the others walked out of the room, he just hoped he might remember the next one. Maybe write it down, to make sense of it.

Next time. He hoped there wasn’t a next time.

Some things were better left unknown.

~

“You can’t deny it now.”

Marshall watched as Adler flicked his cigarette, taking it out of his mouth, the scar on one side flexing as he let out a deep breath of smoke, eyes almost closing.

“Sure, something’s wrong with him. We’ve all got something wrong with us, his problem is just more…noticeable.”

He tried reasoning. Case was a good man, he was useful, did what he told, and did it very damn well, at that. They couldn’t afford to lose someone as valuable as him, which made the issue of his…problems even more troubling.

The screaming at night had been normal, or normal for someone in the military. But then it had turned to screaming about Harrow, her betrayal, about Pantheon, too specific to be nothing.

Now this, the fighting? He’d heard the floors creaking at night but assumed it was nothing, maybe someone going to get water, but knowing Case was this unstable wasn’t very reassuring. Hell, he nearly took Marshall out while not even conscious, what might he do if he caught one of them off guard at night?

Marshall had seen the man perform silent takedowns. He had a freakish amount of strength, and you didn’t hear a thing until the body hit the ground. Sometimes not even that.

“Look, I’ve seen something like this before.”

Adler’s raspy voice interrupted his thoughts, as the older man shifted to lean against the desk in the room they were now in. He took his cigarette between his fingers once again, hands waving in the usual expressive motions he had when talking.

It was a Russell Adler Trademark at this point.

“It was an old experiment, nothing you need to know too much about, but the kid’s showing symptoms. Not good ones.”

Another puff of smoke. The old snake probably knew more than he was telling Marshall, in fact, he almost guaranteed it.

“He hardly has any records, all blacked out or mysteriously ‘missing’.”

Adler took another puff of smoke at that information, rose from leaning, and moved to walk out.

“Find them.”

Simple words, a nearly impossible task.

Marshall didn’t know how Woods had put up with Adler so long, his attitude, his personality, hell, everything about him was just infuriating.

But he’d figure it out. He had to.

For Case.

[nahoyasboyfriend]

Run from me

Warning: very vague gore at the end tried to keep that as short as possible. If you don't want to read about being chased this is not for you

Word count: 1k

Tagging: @slvt4jamesmarch

A/N: This is my first time writing anything like this so I hope it's good. Sorry if there are any errors. I tried to fix most of them, but I may have missed a few. To whoever requested this I love you so much!!!

You awake to the sound of someone knocking on the door. It's probably someone who got their room mixed up. sluggishly, you drag yourself out of bed, carefully ambling to the door. You yawn, blinking the last bit of sleep from your eyes. You don't bother to grab your phone. You plan to go back to bed anyway. It's still dark outside, and your alarm hasn't gone off.

You open the door and there's a man standing before you. He dressed like he was ripped fresh out of the 1920s. His hair slicked down, and he had a thin mustache. Your eyes scan over his outfit, a pin striped suit with an ascot around his neck, and a bowler hat to top it all off. He donned a charming smile, and you brush off the unease that settles in your stomach.

"I think you have the wrong room," you state plainly. All you wanted to do was go back to bed, and sleep the weirdness of this encounter away.

"No, I don't believe I do. if I recall correctly, this is room 74." he says, his inky black eyes never leaving your own.

Sighing, you lightly shake your head, taking a step closer to him, "this is the room they gave me, so there must be a mix up. I can even show you the key they gave me. It has the room number."

You turn around, and you're yanked into the firmness of his chest. Before you can even think of screaming, his big hand clamps over your mouth. "when I let go, I want you to run," he purred, voice molasses-smooth, and you shudder from the feeling of his breath against your ear. You don't make a noise, afraid it'll make everything more real. "And if you make it to the lobby, you get to live."

You think, for a brief moment, if you pray hard enough you'll wake up in your bed, and this will just be a horrible nightmare, but it isn't. It's very much real, and when his bruising grip is finally released you realize the only thing you can do is run like he requested.

And that's exactly what you do, you dart off, hoping that if you're fast enough you'll be able to make it out of here alive. You glance behind you, expecting him to be right on your tail chasing behind you. Strangely, he isn't. You see him back where you left him, taking his time. His gait is steady and slow. He's playing with you and that thought alone makes you sick.

The idea sends a wave of determination through you. You can't let it end here in an old shitty hotel. You duck a corner, and you're met with more rooms with no end in sight. Tears prick at the corners of your eyes, blurring your vision. You scream out, and your lungs ache from the exertion. You feel aimless in a way, unsure of where you are going. You don't know where any of the exits were located, or if there even are any. You wonder if this is pointless; if all roads lead to your inevitable doom.

Though the assumption of what he'll do to you if he catches you pushes you on. Being tortured didn't sound like the way you wanted to go, but not dying at all would be the preferred option. You could hear him humming behind you, a faint sound. Something you wouldn't have noticed if you didn't focus. Adrenaline is pumping through your veins, and you're sure if it wasn't you would have collapsed by now.

The halls of the hotel slowly start bleeding together the more corners you turn. Every hall looks identical to another, so much so you start to wonder if you're going in circles. You slowly begin to believe that this wasn't a hotel at all, and more like a labyrinth. A place designed to swallow helpless people like yourself whole. Losing hope, you scream louder, begging for anyone to save you. You weren't the most religious, but you found yourself wishing that somehow god would save you.

The man lets out a deafening laugh, muttering something you couldn't catch. He sounded closer than before. More tears rolled down your face, your eyes flitting around searching for another person. Goddamnit, does anyone work here?

The sound of his footsteps got quicker and louder. The sound was maddening. You couldn't tell if he was right behind you, and you were too frightened to check. The exhaustion was slowly starting to catch up with you. Your feet felt like rocks, every step taking more effort than the last. Your skin is covered in goosebumps from the chill of the hotel. The flimsy nightgown you have on doing nothing to shield you from the bite of the air conditioner.

You can barely force enough air into your lungs, each sharp breath sending a rush of pain through you. You could see another corner coming up. You could only pray that you'd finally reached an exit. That maybe your key to freedom was right in front of you. You quickly discovered It wasn't. When you reach the corner, a flood of dread is washed over you. A dead end. You let out a broken sob, stumbling down the hall. The sound of his mellow hum, creeping closer and closer.

As you staggered down the hall the only thing that ran through your head was: why? Why was he doing this to you? Why couldn't it be someone else? Why is life so cruel?

When you reach the end of the hallway, you just stand there for a moment, silently listening to him walk to you. When he's within your reach you whip around, wildly swinging your arms to hit him. He catches one of your hands, but the other lands a clean strike on his jaw. You freeze for a moment, uncertain of what to do next. He regains composure almost immediately, squeezing your wrists in a tight fist.

"you did good, dear. very good," he croons and thrusts your body against the wall and you groan out in pain. You feel a searing pain in your stomach, and you hesitantly look down to see his knife buried to hilt in your stomach. You try to scream but only a wet gurgle comes out. He twists the knife for extra measure before pulling the blade out of you. You slump forward, your consciousness slipping through your fingers like sand. Right before you lose your last bit of consciousness you hear him add, "unfortunately not good enough."

[plumblossomcafe]

Ch.74: Dawn

Paimon: You're actually Nahida, aren't you! Paimon felt like Katheryne was acting weird when we met at the Sabzeruz Festival. And Dunyarzad... Did you save her?

Katheryne?: It's a really long story. We shouldn't disturb her. Her consciousness is still weakened. Let's chat somewhere else. How about by Aether's favorite bench?

At the bench

Paimon: Let's talk about Dunyarzad first. It's such a relief that she's all right!

Nahida: Hmm-hmm. After we parted on the last day of the Sabzeruz Festival, I left the city and saw what the Traveler had described. Among the countless dreams, I found one that was growing fainter and fainter. This proved my suspicion. Once Dunyarzad could no longer bear the Akasha harvesting her dreams, her consciousness began to dissipate — but this also meant it escaped the Akasha's control. Such a small fragment of consciousness can't last for very long, though. It will return to its original dream... Where both will gradually fade until they completely disappear. I used all the power I had to keep her dying dream alive as long as possible, but it still wouldn't have lasted for much longer if it hadn't been for you three breaking the samsara.

Paimon: So it looks like we did manage to save Dunyarzad in the end. And not a moment too soon!

Y/n: A very happy ending.

Aether: This is truly a miracle.

Nahida: Oh? Why are you two smiling so happily? I thought you'd be so moved that you'd start crying... Hmm... I need to spend more time observing human emotions.

Paimon: Both are fine! Everyone reacts differently!

Nahida: Alright, you three must have a lot of other questions for me, right? After all, you saved my faithful believer. As your reward, I'll answer any and all questions.

Y/n: About what me and Aether saw in that dream at the Avidya Forest...

Paimon: At the Avidya Forest, there was this incense that made the Traveler fall unconscious and dream of a huge tree and a red sky...

Nahida: You also heard someone's voice, right? It said "world" and "forget me"?

Paimon: Yeah! So you DO know! We've been wanting to ask you what that was about, and if the red sky was related to Khaenri'ah...

Nahida: Hmm, it seems like Aether and Y/n established a connection to Irminsul. That was a message left by Greater Lord Rukkhadevata's residual consciousness in Irminsul... perhaps her last memory before she died. As you three probably know, Greater Lord Rukkhadevata disappeared after the disaster in Khaenri'ah. The timings of these events do line up, so your suspicions are reasonable.

Paimon: A message from Greater Lord Rukkhadevata? We thought it was from King Deshret!

Nahida: King Deshret... That god who died even longer ago? Some present-day desert-dwellers still worship him. You probably just heard some of their conspiracies.

Y/n: Okay... So, what does the message mean?

Nahida: ...I still haven't managed to decipher it. Even the Akasha isn't currently capable of doing that. Greater Lord Rukkhadevata's residual consciousness in Irminsul seems to be contaminated with something that has a very dangerous aura to it. Many devoted scholars go mad as soon as they connect their consciousness... I've warned the Akademiya about this many times, but people still keep falling victim to it. But I believe this is the key to saving Irminsul. That's why I've kept trying to decipher it.

Paimon: So the tree in the vision was Irminsul... Oh, Tighnari also said that Irminsul is sick. Is it because of the contaminated consciousness? But if even you can't figure out what that vision was all about, it seems like our search for you was all in vain...

Nahida: Aether wasn't affected after coming in contact with that consciousness. I've never seen anyone like that, and as for Y/n, though she established a connection, she got hurt in the process, even so it isn't her fault she was just born with a weak body so it's normal for her to be weak to things that are more powerful than her even still, with you two here, we may have a chance at deciphering it... No, we MUST decipher its secrets. I've already eliminated all other factors that might affect Irminsul. This is the only one left. This puzzle has life and death at stake... It could determine Irminsul's fate... as well as Teyvat's...

Y/n: Why do you look like Katheryne?

Nahida: To be accurate, I'm using the Akasha as a medium to occupy Katheryne's consciousness.

Paimon: H—How did you do that!? Poor Katheryne! Uh, does this mean you can also occupy other people's consciousnesses?

Nahida: Theoretically, I can enter anyone's mind as long as they're wearing their Akasha Terminal. The Akasha is the legacy of Greater Lord Rukkhadevata. As Lesser Lord Kusanali and The First Akasha Terminal, my consciousness has always been linked to the Akasha. I've always respected my people's free will, so I've never actually occupied their consciousness. When necessary, I just borrow this bionic Snezhnayan puppet.

Paimon: Oh... Uhh, hold on, did we just learn some deep, dark secret? So Katheryne is... No wonder Paimon felt something was off about her...

Y/n: Same, I always got a weird feeling from her...

Paimon: What about your own body? Why do you need to borrow other people's? Don't you live in the Sanctuary of Surasthana?

Nahida: ...That story begins a long time ago. After Greater Lord Rukkhadevata disappeared, the Sages found my newly born self and took me back to Sumeru. At that time, I was young and weak. The sages kept me in the Sanctuary of Surasthana, ostensibly for the sake of "protecting" me, but I've hardly heard from them since. However, I do understand that they had hoped to find Greater Lord Rukkhadevata instead of me, a symbol of her passing.

Paimon: So... the sages basically put their new archon under house arrest? How dare they... Why don't you teach them a lesson, Nahida!?

Nahida: In some ways, they aren't wrong. Greater Lord Rukkhadevata was omniscient and omnipotent. Even after her death, the Akasha is still empowering this nation. And I... I'm still really far away from being able to call myself the God of Wisdom. Moreover, the Akademiya is also far more proficient at governing this country. My existence has little meaning.

Y/n: To me, you're already an excellent archon. Plus, wisdom isn't something you get immediately once you're born. It takes a lot of time and research in order to achieve the wisdom you're known for

Aether: Agreed

Paimon: Yeah! You've got a lot of believers. Just look at the Sabzeruz Festival! Everyone who showed up truly loves you.

Nahida: Hehe, thank you for the kind words, but I honestly don't need physical freedom as long as I can connect my consciousness to the Akasha. Trying to find a way to save Irminsul is my life's mission and top priority. I will work on that and try to live up to being a deity in the meantime......Every once in a while, I will also take up the duties of the God of Wisdom, and enlighten a lost soul here and there. Doing all that... should be enough.

Aether: About the sages' plan...

Nahida: There's never been any big problems with the Akademiya's governance of Sumeru. This is the first time I've seen them step out of line. I wonder what caused them to go down this path and what they hope to achieve... Even though the city's residents haven't noticed anything strange, if Aether and Y/n hadn't broken the Sabzeruz samsara, the situation could've become dire. I tried to do some investigating in the Akasha, but I couldn't find anything suspicious, and all the people of interest seem to purposely avoid wearing their Akasha Terminals... I think they're deliberately trying to hide something.

Paimon: Oh, that reminds Paimon... In Gandharva Ville, there was a sage who had invited Tighnari to join some kind of project... Could it be related?

Nahida: Regardless, I need to first investigate the sages' motives, make things right, and punish them if needed... But I'll have to be discreet, or they'll see me coming

Aether: No one has realized the issue with the Akasha?

Nahida: You mean how the Akasha stops you from having dreams?

Paimon: Yeah, it's been such a long time. No one's noticed something's up?

Nahida: It's not that no one noticed — it's more like no one cared. Ultimately, it's all rooted in the sages' misdirection.

Paimon: Misdirection?

Nahida: The sages convinced everyone to believe that being unable to dream is a sign of rationality and wisdom. Not dreaming is a badge of honor in Sumeru......Even if the truth is that their dreams are reaped by the Akasha. With their propaganda in place, the sages can maximize their use of the Akasha to facilitate their research. Besides, Greater Lord Rukkhadevata must have created the Akasha in the hopes that it could be used to its full potential. That's why I've never come out strongly against this. Anyway, the perspective advocated by the sages drowned out any voices of doubt. By now, even those who never use Akasha Terminals find it too shameful and embarrassing to talk about their dreams.

Aether: We don't have any other questions.

Nahida: Got it. I hope my answers were satisfactory, seekers of knowledge. To be honest, maintaining Dunyarzad's fading dream took a lot of mental energy... I think I may need to rest for a while. Oh, and you don't need to worry too much about the Sages' activities for now. The Akasha won't be able to conduct another project on the scale of the Sabzeruz samsara in the immediate future.

Paimon: Go and get some sleep. Leave everything to us!

Nahida: Hehe, what a relief. *yawn* This is truly the most exhausting birthday I've ever had.

Nahida leaves as the original Katheryne took over

Katheryne: Hmm... Aether? Y/n? Paimon? Why am I here? Do either of you know?

Paimon: Uhh... Maybe you were sleepwalking? You know, you can't wake up a sleepwalker. We, uh... We happened to walk by, so we thought we'd wait for you to wake up!

Katheryne: I see. Huh... I should visit my maintenance personnel sometime. Oh, I'm fine. I better go. Thank you.

[herrambre]

Hyundai concept N Vision 74.

[neutron669]

Hyundai N Vision 74

[fourtyfaregates]

i want a hyundai n vision 74 but like. not made by hyundai. give me my retrofuturistic renewable fuel sports car but lord please dont put it on a hyundai platform because that suspension is gonna be ASS and it might catch fire in my garage.