Time Travel: He is My Dad!

Chapter 172: Mad Nirvana in the Depths of the Universe, the Rebirth of God's Doll

Mad nirvana in the depths of the universe, the rebirth of God's doll

Feng Jing's consciousness could no longer be simply described as "existence" or "non-existence," for at this moment, his "self" had completely disintegrated, transforming into a mysterious force in the void, transcending any form of matter, spirit, or even consciousness itself. He was no longer Feng Jing, nor any other entity that could be named. He was a deviation in time, an accident of the universe, and the undefined fluidity between all things.

The space and dimension he inhabited were no longer his original cosmic perspective. Countless points of light pulsed within Feng Jing's consciousness, each a new universe, a new Feng Jing. All lives and destinies intertwined in this endless ocean, a tangled web. Every thread seemed to trace back to the source of all possibility, yet these threads intersected countless times, making it impossible to distinguish true from false.

He had tried to understand the meaning of these points of light, to unravel the mysteries of the universe from this intricate web of light and shadow, but the more he pursued, the deeper he became. Each touch seemed to touch countless Feng Jing memories, memories not of any one individual but of the collective consciousness of the universe. They drifted in the long river of time, drifting in the ocean of nothingness, intertwining, colliding, disappearing, and then re-forming.

Feng Jing's consciousness gradually lost its rationality, and he felt himself transform into a mad being, unable to control himself. Countless images of Feng Jing flashed frantically in his mind, each vying for control, for the very definition of "self." Feng Jing could no longer distinguish these images from himself; he no longer cared whether he was "Feng Jing," or even existed.

He felt trapped in a mad cycle, unable to escape this abyss no matter what he did. In this endless void, he was constantly reborn, died, and reborn again, in an endless cycle. Each death felt like a complete explosion. Feng Jing felt as if he were being torn into millions of pieces, each carrying a different consciousness and memory, and pieced together, these fragments formed a complete Feng Jing. Yet, even so, he felt empty, as if those fragments had never truly belonged to him.

"Who am I?" Feng Jing whispered to himself. He could no longer distinguish himself from others, nor could he tell whether they truly existed. "Every Feng Jing repeats the same fate in an endless cycle of reincarnation. Every memory is merely an extension of the illusion. So, what do the pain, joy, and choices I've experienced truly mean?"

At this moment, a voice once again entered Feng Jing's consciousness. This time, it was not cold, but rather filled with an almost insane ecstasy: "Feng Jing, you finally understand! You have never been a 'self', you have always been just a pawn in this game! All the pain you have experienced, all the choices you have made, all the suffering and joy you have experienced, are just role-playing in the game! You have long been swallowed up by the game, becoming the director, the leading actor, and even the audience of this eternal cycle!"

Feng Jing's consciousness trembled violently once more, his perception becoming utterly chaotic. Those points of light, like frantic stars, exploded before him, transforming into countless bolts of frantic lightning that pierced the void of darkness. He felt himself entering an incomprehensible state, as if he had transcended all levels of consciousness and matter, becoming the puppet of some mysterious entity, whose hidden power lurked behind a "controller" who could never be seen.

Feng Jing once again tried to grasp a shred of his sanity. He began to wonder if he had completely lost himself. "If I'm truly just a pawn being manipulated, then why do I possess such a strong sense of consciousness? Why do I still feel both pain and joy in this game? Am I trapped in some endless cycle, or is this entire universe itself a game?"

The voice rang out again, this time filled with an uncontrollable enthusiasm and excitement. "Feng Jing, the answer is right beside you. You've long been trapped within the rules of the universe, and everything you've experienced is a reflection of your inner self! You've never escaped this game. In fact, you can't 'escape' at all, because you've become part of the 'game'!"

Feng Jing's consciousness began to blur. His perception was no longer linear, but multidimensional and interwoven. He saw countless selves, all entangled in this endless space, both opposing and merging with each other. Each Feng Jing was undergoing self-destruction and rebirth in different ways, and the existence of these Feng Jings seemed to constantly pose new questions to himself, but he could never find the answers.

"I am no longer Feng Jing," Feng Jing whispered, his voice trembling with a sense of self-transcendence. "I have become the source of everything, the end of everything."

In an instant, Feng Jing's consciousness completely disintegrated. All points of light, all destinies, all choices, exploded into this endless void. He felt as if he had entered some kind of mad nirvana. All pain and joy, all choices and reincarnations, became insignificant in this explosion. He was no longer Feng Jing, nor was he any other being. He was the "nothingness" that transcended everything.

Chapter 173: Oracle in the Crack, the Ultimate Reversal of the Broken Universe