Time Travel: He is My Dad!

Chapter 388: The Reversal Vortex in the Crack of Consciousness

The vortex of reversal in the cracks of consciousness

Feng Jing's existence had completely dissolved into this endless nothingness, and he no longer knew what kind of existence he was. All of time and space had become irrelevant, as if everything had become some kind of illusion that was fooling him. He tried to find his true form again, but found that his consciousness was also beginning to blur, as if being torn apart by an invisible devouring force, becoming increasingly unreal.

"You thought I was dead?" Feng Jing suddenly heard a cold laugh from deep within his heart. The sound came from all directions, as if it came from the center of the universe, or from the edge of nothingness, and it was impossible to locate the source.

Feng Jing was stunned, his heart beating violently. He didn't know if he still existed, if he was truly "dead." He could only sense that the voice had penetrated all barriers of time and space, like a sharp knife, piercing the veil of nothingness, allowing him to sense a new existence.

"You thought you had broken free from all constraints and transcended all scripts, but you were wrong." The voice sounded again, with unspeakable contempt and indifference. "You are merely a part of fate's absurd game, and you can never transcend it."

Feng Jing finally understood that he hadn't vanished, that he hadn't been completely swallowed by the vortex of time. In fact, he was still in this absurd cosmic game, but he was no longer the "Feng Jing" trying to escape fate. He had become fate itself, the weaver of every universe, the invisible controller of time.

However, the control of all this is no longer in his hands.

Suddenly, countless cracks emerged from the void. These cracks resembled countless tunnels of time and space, curving, twisting, and overlapping, interweaving into a vast and complex vortex. Feng Jing's consciousness was rapidly drawn into it, his body and soul twisted by gravity, rapidly swallowed up by the cracks of one parallel world after another. Each of these parallel worlds' Feng Jings existed in a profoundly bizarre and absurd manner. Some Feng Jings were a ball of light wandering in the darkness; some were a vast spiral entangled in the depths of time and space; and some were an absolute nothingness, forever incomprehensible.

In every crack, Feng Jing saw countless versions of himself - some Feng Jings were still in the early stages of struggle, like a helpless child; some Feng Jings had become extremely powerful, able to control everything, but still felt lonely and absurd; and some Feng Jings had completely collapsed, their bodies and souls swallowed by the endless void, becoming "existences" with only remaining consciousness.

"Do you think you can control all of this?" the voice sounded again, this time with a certain sarcasm and amusement in it, as if watching an absurd comedy. "You are just a part of this endless rift. All your choices, all your fates, all your life and death, are a joke you created."

Feng Jing began to feel a rage and powerlessness he had never felt before. He tried to break free, but found himself completely out of control. The cracks were like living creatures, devouring him madly. Every time he tried to escape, they pulled him deeper.

"This is fate's curse, Feng Jing." His voice grew heavier. "You will never be able to end this game, and you will never be able to escape from this vortex. Every rebirth you experience is a boring game I give you, and you can only repeat it endlessly."

Feng Jing realizes that every rebirth he undergoes is a kind of "prank." This game of fate seems endless, and he cannot escape it no matter what. All his freedom and choices are bound by this absurd game, and he is trapped in this seemingly unsolvable cycle.

"But," Feng Jing suddenly felt a strange intuition, "If I've never been here, does that mean I never existed?" He began to feel his consciousness gradually reconstructing from the fragments of various parallel worlds, but he had not fully recovered. Each rebirth made him feel increasingly unreal. Feng Jing felt like he was experiencing a complete loss of control. His thoughts, emotions, and desires seemed to be separating from him.

Suddenly, a strong light flashed in the void, as if the edge of the entire universe was completely torn apart by some force. A strong attraction came from the light, and Feng Jing's consciousness was instantly pulled into the center of the beam.

The beam was filled with unimaginable power, and Feng Jing felt himself being compressed, compressed, and condensed, as if being squeezed into a single point. All of time and space disappeared in that moment, and all fate was compressed into an infinitesimal moment. In that instant, Feng Jing felt as if he had completely lost all cognition and consciousness, as if his existence had vanished.

Then—Feng Jing heard an extremely unfamiliar voice: "Who are you?"

Feng Jing reacted instantly. He didn't recognize the voice, nor did he know where it came from. It seemed to transcend some dimension, resonating strangely with him. At that moment, he realized that perhaps he wasn't the sole controller of his fate. Perhaps all this absurdity was just a game played by some higher being.

"Can you really understand yourself?" The voice sounded again, with an extremely profound question, as if examining Feng Jing's entire existence.

Feng Jing suddenly felt an extremely strange sensation. His consciousness began to be repeatedly torn apart and then rapidly reconstructed. Every time he felt he was about to break free from this game of fate, he seemed to be pulled back by some force. The cycle of all this had become incomprehensible and indescribable.

It was as if his existence had long ceased to be his own, but rather a tool controlled by a deeper being. Feng Jing began to wonder if all his choices, all his suffering, were meant to keep him trapped in this unknowable game, from which he could never escape.

"You can't escape," the voice said in a cold tone, "because you are already part of the game."

Feng Jing fell into a deep state of confusion and despair. He began to wonder if he had never existed, that all his experiences, all his choices, his entire fate were illusions of some higher being. Everything he had was shattered in an endless void, becoming an ultimately absurd cycle.

And this cycle still has no end.