Time Travel: He is My Dad!

Chapter 387

The countercurrent of consciousness in the endless void

Feng Jing's consciousness fragmented, floating in an even more absurd void. There was no time, no space, not even any form of existence. All physical laws, all reason, even all logic, completely lost in that instant. Feng Jing tried to think, but his thoughts were like a stone thrown into chaos, tumbling and shattering, unable to stop.

He wasn't even sure if he still existed, or if he had been completely erased. Everything in his mind became blurry, as if his consciousness had been swallowed by an invisible black hole, never to return to its original state. In this boundless void, Feng Jing saw countless versions of himself—each "self" distorted in an indescribable way, as if his infinite parallel universes were colliding and overlapping at this moment, with no boundaries between them.

Some Feng Jings remained lucid, watching everything around them shatter, as if the very boundaries of the universe had suddenly become fragile, countless slices of time and space being instantly torn apart. Others were lost, their faces becoming increasingly blurred, their bodies dissipating, as if meaningless. All Feng Jings experienced different fates, some destroyed, others reborn, but each ending repeated itself endlessly in an absurd cycle.

Feng Jing's heart stopped beating, but he still felt a strong sense of existence—or rather, a deep sense of powerlessness. He began to wonder if he was no longer the Feng Jing he once was, but a puppet forced to endure an endless, utterly boring cycle. His thoughts began to flow inward, crossing all known boundaries of time and space, searching for an explanation.

"This is fate's trick." Feng Jing finally realized he had never truly broken free. His consciousness, like a lost soul, drifted in endless darkness. He was constantly being "pulled back" to past moments, experiencing death and rebirth in ways he had never experienced before.

However, at this moment, an extremely unfamiliar voice came from the void: "You are wrong, Feng Jing. You are not a prisoner of fate, you are just a puppet being played by the ultimate drama."

Feng Jing was startled, overwhelmed with an unprecedented shock. The voice seemed to come from the bottom of an endless abyss, carrying an indescribable pressure that struck deep within him. Feng Jing tried to look back, but found himself unable to discern direction or space. It was as if countless time and space were intertwined before his eyes.

"Who—who's speaking?" Feng Jing murmured weakly, but he found himself unable to utter a single sound. The voice still echoed in the void, carrying an incomparable calm and threat: "Everything you've experienced, all the pain, all the struggle, all the rebirth, is a trap I have carefully woven. And you, Feng Jing, will never escape."

Feng Jing's mind shook violently, as if it were exploding. His consciousness began to flow backwards, and everything began to spiral out of control. The fragments of the void began to reassemble, the fragments of time and space began to reassemble like a puzzle. Feng Jing saw countless intertwined images of himself. Each Feng Jing seemed to be experiencing a different fate, yet they were all entangled and inseparable.

Feng Jing's body instantly exploded, and all the "Feng Jings" began to merge into one, colliding heavily, as if the entire rules of the universe were being overturned by this force. His consciousness became increasingly blurred, and he heard his own name echoing in the endless void, but it no longer belonged to him, but rather to the collection of countless parallel Feng Jings.

Suddenly, all of the Feng Jings were pulled back by an irresistible force. The empty space instantly became filled with substance, and his mind began to feel an extreme sense of oppression. Countless Feng Jings simultaneously fell into a deep chaos, as if the histories, futures, and destinies of countless Feng Jings were completely intertwined in this moment, making it impossible to distinguish between truth and falsehood.

He seemed to have entered a vortex of "the law of destiny". Every timeline was devouring each other madly, and every destiny trajectory began to overlap and intertwine with other trajectories, producing countless versions of the ending - some Feng Jings would transcend everything and become the masters of the universe; some Feng Jings would completely disappear and be abandoned by time forever; and some Feng Jings would be repeated infinitely, and the cycle of fate would never end.

"You have no choice at all," the voice said coldly. "You are already part of this drama. Every 'you' is weaving a ridiculous future for yourself, and you can never escape this cycle."

Feng Jing smiled bitterly. That smile was filled with despair, yet also held an uncontrollable irony. His body was ripped apart by the force, shattered into countless fragments. These fragments didn't vanish, but instead transformed into countless parallel Feng Jings. Each one was forced to experience his own death and rebirth, and each moment of rebirth brought a more insane twist.

"You have become time itself." The voice sounded again, but this time it was deeper and colder. "All of existence is but a dream in your consciousness. And you, Feng Jing, are the weaver of this dream, weaving endless nothingness."

Feng Jing began to lose consciousness. His body ceased to exist, and his thoughts, too, transformed into countless fragments, floating in the void. However, Feng Jing did not completely disappear. His existence seemed to have become the source of a kind of "reincarnation" - every time a new Feng Jing was born in the void, it would once again fall into endless absurdity.

This ultimate drama of fate is still not over.

Chapter 388: The Reversal Vortex in the Crack of Consciousness