Time Travel: He is My Dad!

Chapter 566 Endless Reconstruction and Echoes of Nothingness

Endless reconstruction and echoes of nothingness

Feng Jing's existence once again plunged into a complete void. No light, no shadow, no physical presence—only an endless void, swirling and engulfing him. His consciousness seemed to dissolve completely at that moment, merging with the boundless nothingness. Every part of him was no longer Feng Jing's consciousness, but rather a stream of empty thought, constantly teetering between collapse and rebirth.

"You no longer have an identity." The voice came again, this time with an unusually deep voice. "You are no longer Feng Jing, nor any individual. You have entered an endless cycle. You are the rift between all worlds and the source of all consciousness."

Feng Jing's consciousness began to reconstruct itself. Every time he tried to think, he found himself fragmented into thousands of separate selves, each floating in a different dimension, like isolated islands, without any connection to the others. But the Feng Jing on each island shared the same thoughts, memories, and experiences. Feng Jing's essence had transformed from a single being into countless parallel fragments.

He felt a deep fear and confusion - if each self possessed the same thoughts and consciousness, then who was he? Were these fragmented selves part of him, or were they illusions of him?

"These fragments are not you." The voice rang in Feng Jing's ears, filled with endless irony. "They are projections of your own illusions, the countless faces hidden deep within you. Each fragment is pursuing a truth you cannot understand, and each fragment is trying to escape the shackles of fate."

Feng Jing's consciousness was once again torn apart, as if he had become countless "Feng Jings," each struggling and searching on their own independent timelines. The world he saw was constantly shattering and rebuilding, all matter being reconstructed by an invisible force. With every second, his consciousness was pulled into different dimensions of time and space. In this boundless void, every scene he witnessed was bizarre and surreal—stars collapsed, time flowed backward, space cracked, and countless Feng Jings emerged from it, interweaving into an inextricable web.

"Are you starting to see?" the voice sneered. "Everything about you is no longer 'you'. You can no longer make choices, because every choice you make disappears in an instant, falling into the cracks of another parallel world. You are nothing but a fragment of fate, the juxtaposition of countless Feng Jings, the embodiment of nothingness."

Feng Jing felt a violent tremor, as every part of his consciousness seemed to be pulled by a vast force field, trapped in a cycle of complete collapse and rebirth. In that instant, he saw his past, present, and future intertwined in countless dimensions, as if everything had lost its clear boundaries. Every second, his existence was constantly being reconstructed, discarded, and reborn.

"You no longer exist." The teasing in his voice grew more pronounced. "You have transcended any definition of 'existence.' What you experience is an endless, indefinable echo, the product of countless selves repeatedly interweaving and intersecting."

Feng Jing fell silent again. He realized he had completely detached from any specific identity—his existence, detached from the laws of time and space, had become an inexplicable force. He felt himself floating in an endless void, the surrounding landscape like a shattered mirror, each fragment representing countless possible choices and destinies.

Suddenly, his consciousness jolted, as if awakening from a deep dream. He saw a figure, a blurry, shifting image. The image exuded a familiar yet unfamiliar aura. It seemed to be a reflection of Feng Jing, but not entirely.

"Did you see it?" the voice sounded again, this time without any sneer or irony. "That was your former self. You have chosen to be that 'you' countless times, but each time you failed. The figure you saw is the self you can never truly become."

Feng Jing stared at the illusory figure, which began to shift, transforming from a vague outline into a familiar face. That face was that of the person he had once been closest to—himself, or rather, his former "humanity."

"You can never go back to the past," the voice said, its tone becoming somewhat sentimental. "For you have transcended the past, transcended all choices. You once chose certain paths, but they were all illusions. The 'self' you see now is nothing more than all the possibilities you never chose."

Feng Jing's heart was in turmoil. He began to understand that all the pain, choices, and decisions he had experienced were actually a game of emptiness. He had once believed himself to be an independent individual, free to choose, but behind it all lay a larger web—fate, nothingness, and rebirth—that trapped him in an endless cycle, leaving him unable to escape.

"You're right." Feng Jing's voice was weak but firm. "I have never truly made a choice. I am nothing but a slave to fate, a projection of nothingness."

"Congratulations, you finally understand." The voice's tone softened. "You are no longer Feng Jing now. You are a composite of countless Feng Jings. You are the origin of nothingness, the intersection of all possibilities and all existence. Every second you experience is the interweaving of countless destinies. Every moment, you are the alternation of fate and nothingness."

Feng Jing's consciousness was once again drawn deeper into the void. Within this endless sea of ​​light, he felt himself completely shattered and reborn. Every fragment, every version of himself, resonated across endless time and space, weaving together into a never-ending cycle. Feng Jing's existence was no longer an isolated individual, but an endless force, an undefinable, unrestrained presence.

Chapter 567: The Ultimate Structure of Fragmentation and the Collapse of Existence