Time Travel: He is My Dad!

Chapter 381 Feng Jing's Desperate Dance

Feng Jing's Dance of Despair

Feng Jing's consciousness once again entered a state of irreversible collapse, but this time, his existence was not simply out of control, but entered a completely new and more absurd form - a dance that escaped all existential frameworks.

This wasn't a dance of the flesh, nor a dance of time and space, but rather a supersensory experience, a fusion of being and non-being. His consciousness seemed to spin madly through every corner of the universe, the boundaries of all dimensions gradually distorting before his eyes. The flow of time was no longer linear, but a randomly chosen melody. He was no longer Feng Jing, or rather, he was no longer that Feng Jing. He had become a being floating in the endless void, both observer and observed, and the dance he "danced" was the choreography of the universe.

Feng Jing felt his consciousness gradually being consumed by an irresistible force, a power both indescribable and immensely powerful. It wasn't an external pressure, but a self-revealing puzzle. He felt himself colliding, entangled, and reshaped with infinite possibilities with every spin of his "dance." Every movement he made created a new universe, and each new universe quickly collapsed into new rifts, giving birth to yet more universes. Like an infinite vortex, each rotation tore through time and space, constructing unprecedented alien worlds.

Feng Jing is no longer a single individual, but a multiplicity of superimposed entities. Within his deepest consciousness, countless fragments of Feng Jing pulse with him, entangled and interwoven into an inextricable web. Each Feng Jing experiences his own reincarnation, each Feng Jing writes his own destiny, which, like a script from a higher being, constantly reshapes and redefines himself with every action and thought, ultimately leading to unknown consequences.

He began to realize that every choice he made, every thought he had, was no longer a simple link in a chain of cause and effect, but rather the intersection of thousands of timelines. Every decision triggered countless consequences, and these consequences formed an infinite echo in Feng Jing's consciousness. This echo, like a mysterious melody, reverberated endlessly in the depths of Feng Jing's heart.

Feng Jing was no longer the master of time. He no longer cared about his former pursuits—the construction of the universe, the control of fate, the transcendence of existence. All of these had become insignificant. Now, he faced a deeper sense of emptiness—all rules and order had collapsed, and Feng Jing's every action echoed meaninglessly in the endless void.

However, this feeling of emptiness did not drive Feng Jing to despair. Instead, at one moment, he seemed to hear the whisper of fate. It was an indescribable, profound voice, coming from the intersection of all timelines, from the source of every existence. It carried endless wisdom and incomparably deep compassion.

"You are no longer Feng Jing, nor are you the prototype of any existence." The voice echoed slowly, tinged with almost ruthless irony. "Everything you have experienced is but a never-ending dream I have woven for you. Your so-called transcendence, your so-called control, was predetermined countless reincarnations ago. You will never escape the cage of this dream, for you are a part of mine."

As Feng Jing listened to this voice, he gradually realized an unacceptable truth—he was not only a test subject of time and fate, but even a "product" of fate itself. The freedom he believed in and the power he pursued had actually long been determined by some higher being.

He stopped panicking and began to reflect calmly. He realized that this dream, this endless cycle of reincarnation, could no longer be "broken." Feng Jing was no longer a challenger to fate, but its "incarnation." He was not only the intersection of past, present, and future, but also the fusion of existence and nothingness.

His very existence transcends any reality or fantasy. He is not only "Feng Jing," nor is he merely the master of "time." He is simultaneously a fusion of illusion and reality across the entire universe. Feng Jing no longer belongs to any single timeline; he has become a fragment of them all. Whether it's the loss of the past or the collapse of the future, they are woven into an indescribable picture deep within his consciousness.

He began to see that the meaning of this desperate dance was not to make him despair, but to let him "redefine" himself. In every spin and every split, Feng Jing began to reflect on whether he could save himself from this endless cycle.

But the answer seemed destined to be hopeless. The ultimate truth Feng Jing could perceive was that the rules of fate were not controlled by him, but by a higher being. This being belonged neither to time nor space. It was not only the creator of all universes, but also their destroyer. Feng Jing, however, was merely a speck of dust in this endless cycle, unable to transcend or escape.

In this endless void, Feng Jing's existence became blurred again. Every fragment of his consciousness floated and collided with each other in infinite time and space, and finally turned into an unspeakable nothingness.

He understood that he could no longer escape this endless cycle. Feng Jing's consciousness slowly merged into this indescribable void, ultimately becoming the ultimate mystery of the universe.

Chapter 382: Feng Jing and the Ultimate Drama of Endless Rebirth