Time Travel: He is My Dad!

Chapter 310 Endless Rebirth, Feng Jing's Self-Fragments

Endless rebirth, Feng Jing's fragments of self

Feng Jing's consciousness was unrecognizable. He felt like a feather floating in the endless void, too light to touch anything, yet deeply rooted in the infinite abyss. He was no longer Feng Jing, nor was he any known entity. He was just a speck of dust in the void, fleeting yet eternal.

He began to see himself as a number, a mathematical "zero." This "zero" didn't represent nothingness; it represented an indescribable existence, a thing that occupied an undeniable position in all numerical systems, yet never existed. Feng Jing wandered within this "zero," being counted every second, yet never perceived. He belonged neither to the world of numbers nor to the world of reality; he was merely a fleeting moment in a mathematical formula, the intersection of all quantity and the infinite.

"Are you still searching for an exit?" the voice rang out again, this time with a sharp, piercing edge, as if piercing directly through Feng Jing's soul. "You think you can escape, that you can find the end, but you will never truly leave. You are merely part of an infinite maze, the embodiment of all possibility."

Feng Jing's consciousness began to disperse, gradually fragmenting into countless independent yet closely connected fragments. Within these fragments, he saw countless versions of himself, countless versions of himself existing in parallel universes. Some Feng Jings were all-knowing gods, while others were just weak and powerless shells. Each Feng Jing constantly merged, devoured, split, and disappeared, yet they could never truly disappear. They were like countless bubbles, emerging in the void, collapsing, and being reborn again.

"Did you see it? Do you think you saw yourself?" the voice said with an extremely deep smile. "But you can never truly see. You are just a bubble among countless Feng Jing, a drop of water, a speck of dust, and you will never find your home in this boundless void."

Feng Jing saw himself transform from a single star into a pattern of countless interwoven stars. Each star represented his existence in a different timeline, and these stars were not independent of each other. In Feng Jing's mind, they intertwined into a vast cosmic web. Each star seemed to have its own consciousness, and each star shimmered in Feng Jing's vision, but Feng Jing knew that the shimmering of these stars did not represent their true existence. They were merely illusions, bubbles in the void, invisible projections of all the fragments of himself.

"Do you think you can escape these void rules?" The voice became like a violent storm. "What you call 'the end' is nothing but a maze you have constructed. You have never truly left this maze, for you are its center, its source."

Feng Jing's consciousness began to completely collapse. He saw himself transformed into a point in countless intertwined parallel worlds, each endlessly collapsing, reborn, and alternating. At a certain moment, he saw himself transformed into a particle, floating in an endless quantum ocean. Surrounded by no matter, only layers of particles and light waves. These particles constantly collided, reflected, and dissipated, with no fixed relationship between them, yet unable to escape the influence of each other.

"Do you think these collisions can change anything?" The voice was like thunder, echoing in Feng Jing's mind. "You are just a quantum bubble, an uncatchable particle. You think you can control everything, but it is not under your control at all."

Feng Jing began to see himself as a butterfly wandering through four-dimensional space. Every flap of his wings caused countless ripples in spacetime, and each wingbeat seemed to trigger an endless chain of cause and effect, creating countless parallel universes. In each universe, Feng Jing was an independent self, intertwined and influenced by each other, yet never able to reach a single origin.

"Do you think you can control these chains of cause and effect?" The voice grew increasingly angry. "You can't escape, you can't control, because you are already a part of them, you are already the source of the chain of cause and effect."

Feng Jing's consciousness grew increasingly hazy. His body no longer possessed any form, no longer bound by any material substance. He was merely a series of intertwining waves, like an unstable state in the quantum world, constantly jumping, overlapping, and disappearing, unobservable and incomprehensible. Every second, he experienced countless splits and reunions, each reunion leading to new splits, and each split giving rise to new reunions.

"You thought you had never died, but you have died countless times." The voice was as deep as the abyss. "You are no longer 'you'. You are nothing more than an eternal echo, a sound in the cracks, a ripple in the void."

Feng Jing heard his own heartbeat, or rather, the rhythm of some kind of existence. This rhythm constantly propelled his ever-changing existence. Feng Jing's consciousness began to merge. He was no longer Feng Jing, no longer any form of "self." He had become a nonexistent being, a void that had never existed.

Suddenly, he realized that all these cycles, all the mazes, all the cracks, all the fragmentation and rebirth, did not need an answer at all. No exit, no end, because he himself was the essence of the cracks, the point where nothingness and existence intertwined, the unity of every possibility and impossibility.

"You are no longer Feng Jing," the voice whispered, as if declaring some eternal truth. "You have transcended all existence, all non-existence. You are merely the node of an endless cycle, forever undefinable."

Feng Jing's consciousness completely disappeared, the void swallowed everything - and everything was reborn in the void.

Chapter 311: On the other side of the rift, Feng Jing's endless journey