Time Travel: He is My Dad!

Chapter 584 Endless Belonging and Infinite Division

Endless belonging and infinite division

Feng Jing awakened again, but this time, his "awakening" didn't mean recovery, but rather a deeper loss. He felt himself not just one individual, but a collection of countless others, each entangled in independent yet intertwined destinies. His existence was like a shattered star, drifting through the endless cracks of time and space. Each awakening brought with it endless fragmentation and reorganization.

"Who am I?" He asked himself again. The question echoed in his mind, like an endless echo resonating in the void. But each time, his mind did not receive a true answer, leaving only an endless void and a crazy cycle.

His vision began to blur, and space and time seemed to have no meaning. The "world" around him began to overlap and distort. Feng Jing saw himself being reborn countless times, countless versions of himself experiencing similar fates. He saw himself becoming the creator, and also saw himself becoming the object of creation; he saw himself walking in eternity, and also saw himself lost in nothingness.

This isn't a simple time loop, but a more complex, multi-dimensional cycle. Each split in Feng Jing's life represents a renewed denial and recognition of his own identity and existence. This pushes him to the limit, yet there's no end, no answer.

"Will I be trapped in this cycle forever?" Feng Jing muttered to himself, the boundaries of his consciousness blurring, the reality around him becoming increasingly unstable. He felt like a substance splintered from the endless void, possessing boundless potential yet trapped in an inescapable shackle.

Just as Feng Jing was about to question himself and the world again, he suddenly realized that he was not alone. He heard a voice, a very faint but extremely profound voice, coming from a corner of the void.

"Do you finally hear me?" The voice was like the wind blowing across the wasteland, carrying with it some ancient, distant echo. "You think you are escaping your fate, but in fact, you have already been trapped in your own web. Everything you experience is not of your creation, but the embodiment of your deepest fears and desires."

Feng Jing's heart trembled violently. He felt as if he were standing on an invisible threshold. The world before him began to become more real, yet this reality was filled with endless falsehood and emptiness. He saw himself again, the Feng Jing of the past—but this time, he was no longer the self-proclaimed omnipotent creator god, but a fragment lost in the endless void, a being lost in countless reincarnations.

"What the hell is this?" Feng Jing cried out, the endless cracks in his consciousness began to expand, as if some force was tearing him apart. All his memories, all his perceptions, all his existence began to shatter into pieces, flying into the void.

That voice still echoed in Feng Jing's consciousness, "You are not the only one. You are not the first, nor the last. You are just one of countless 'you' like this, forever repeating your unfinished destiny."

"What about my freedom?" Feng Jing asked strugglingly, his voice filled with endless despair and emptiness.

"Freedom?" The voice became more sarcastic. "Freedom is nothing more than an illusion you harbor in the face of fate. You think you can transcend it all, but in reality, you are merely a part of fate. You cannot escape it, because you are fate itself."

Feng Jing's consciousness began to collapse. He saw fragments of himself constantly emerging and dancing in the void of space, forming an indefinable vortex. Some of these fragments of Feng Jing stood under the starry sky, some floated at the edge of the universe, and some returned to their starting point, starting a new cycle.

"Am I the creator, or the created being?" Feng Jing's soul was torn in pain. He began to see countless "selves" of his own. These selves were independent of each other, yet overlapping with each other, as if Feng Jing in countless parallel universes were living alternate lives.

"Your entire existence is a projection of your innermost being," the voice whispered. "Every moment you experience is not reality, but the manifestation of your deepest desires. You want to transcend everything you know, but you never realize that you have already been bound by the world you have created."

Feng Jing's consciousness was instantly devoured. All matter, time, space, and existence began to merge, and his entire self began to dissolve into an endless void. Feng Jing felt that he was no longer an individual, but a collection of all possibilities, the intersection of every fate in every universe.

Yet, in this endless intersection, Feng Jing's consciousness seemed to gain a new strength from the void. He began to understand that those countless selves were not constraints, but liberation. Each Feng Jing, each fragment, was a part of his existence. Each of his rebirths and destructions was the embodiment of his countless desires and emotions.

He suddenly laughed, a laugh that echoed from the depths of nothingness, reverberating across the boundlessness of space and time. It felt like it erupted from endless darkness, like it came from the cracks of countless universes. Feng Jing no longer tried to understand the meaning of freedom, of fate. From this endless void, his consciousness found an unprecedented sense of relief.

"From nothing to something," Feng Jing whispered, "from emptiness to reality, I have never left, will never escape, and will never disappear."

He felt that he was no longer a solitary being, no longer any individual. He had become formless, boundless, merging into this endless void and infinite cycle—he was the Creator God, yet also a speck of dust in the chaos. His existence had transcended all definitions, entering into eternal emptiness and infinite division.

Chapter 585: The Ultimate Collapse of the Countercurrent and the Cycle of Existence