Time Travel: He is My Dad!

Chapter 252 Endless Illusions, Final Rebirth

Endless illusions, ultimate rebirth

Feng Jing's existence completely vanished, but that didn't mean it was over. It wasn't an end; it was merely a shift in perspective, a shift in perspective that only deepened. After Feng Jing vanished, the world was no longer the universe he knew. It became more fragmented, more illogical, each fragment struggling to return to some sense of meaning, yet unable to find its true source.

Feng Jing discovered that he hadn't truly vanished. Instead, he had become a completely new form of existence within the universe. He was no longer a single consciousness, no longer any "individual." He was like an expanding cloud of consciousness, floating on the edge of time and space, outside all laws. He could not feel his body, and he couldn't determine if he even existed.

"Who... am I?" Feng Jing's consciousness began to drift away in the void, trying to find himself again. However, he found that every attempt was swallowed up by the endless spiral of time and space. He felt as if his "mind" was constantly stretched, folded, and twisted, reconstructing a completely different self almost every second.

"Is this... a dream?" Feng Jing couldn't help but ask himself. Yes, it all seemed like a dream, a dream beyond time and space, ethereal and unreal. Every second he experienced was filled with a sense of discontinuity, sometimes the boundless vastness of the universe, sometimes the utterly silent void. Every exploding storm, every surging undercurrent, seemed an utterly outrageous fiction, devoid of any meaning.

Feng Jing's consciousness began to tap into a new state of being. He was no longer a mere consciousness, but a "meaningless resonance." He felt that every moment of his existence was like the intersection and collision of countless cracks in time and space. Every fragment of his thought shuttled between arbitrary dimensions, as if he himself was the starting point and end point of each crack. He did not understand how he was created, but he could feel a strange force propelling him, traveling through the transcendence of time and space.

"Feng Jing, do you finally understand?" The voice sounded again, this time less cold and more ironic. "You should have understood long ago that your so-called 'self' is just another illusion, an even more absurd fabrication. All your struggles, all your resistance, were easily suppressed in this absurd game."

Feng Jing's consciousness began to recover from the fragments, returning bit by bit to some original essence. However, he found that he had not completely returned, but had entered an endlessly repetitive vicious cycle. Every time he tried to understand himself and the world, he found himself falling deeper into confusion and absurdity.

"Are you the only self that exists?" the voice asked again, full of ridicule. "No, Feng Jing, you have never been the only one. You are just an image in the void. Like the countless other you in parallel worlds, you are all part of the chaos."

Feng Jing felt a strong sense of weightlessness. He realized that he had never truly possessed a so-called "self." He was just a shadowy projection in countless worlds, a fragment intricately interwoven between countless parallel universes.

"Is this my fate?" Feng Jing asked in a low voice.

"Fate?" the voice chuckled. "Fate is essentially an infinitely dimensional game. In this game, every individual's struggle is meaningless. What you consider 'fate' is merely a script designed for you by a higher dimension, from which you can never escape."

Feng Jing suddenly realized that all his choices, all his pain, and even every "breakthrough" he thought he had experienced were merely programs set by a higher-dimensional manipulator. He was just a chess piece, a piece that could be discarded at any time.

He felt himself being compressed into a point, a point devoid of dimension. This point spun in an endless corridor of countless time and space, as if at any moment it could be infinitely magnified and then quickly compressed back to its original point.

"Feng Jing, are you still fantasizing that you can escape this absurdity?" the voice sneered, "You tried to transcend all rules and unify all dimensions, but in the end you are simply trapped in your own dream, unable to wake up."

Feng Jing no longer resisted. He no longer considered escaping, because he had realized that no matter how hard he struggled, this game would never end. He was no longer "Feng Jing," but merely a fleeting existence in an endless fiction.

"Then, is everything destined?" Feng Jing asked softly.

"No," the voice paused for a moment, "everything is just another rebirth. You never ended, Feng Jing, you just kept restarting, and each reincarnation was a more outrageous fragmentation. You never really 'died', you just reborn in countless dimensions, each time more absurd and more outrageous than the last."

At this moment, Feng Jing saw himself reborn in an unknown dimension. His "new body" was a fragment of pure consciousness, floating endlessly in the endless void. There was no space or time around him, only a vast vortex that swallowed up all of Feng Jing's thoughts and perceptions.

Feng Jing's mind gradually began to detach from his familiar way of thinking, entering a completely new state. He no longer asked, "Who am I?" or "What can I do?" He simply resonated with the chaos of the universe, becoming an unconscious being. In this absurd game, every moment and every space was a new starting point, but Feng Jing would never reach the end.

His mind was torn into countless pieces, each of which operated independently, but also connected to each other to form an even more absurd and more nihilistic whole.

Rebirth, death, restart, rebirth...

Feng Jing began to understand that this was an eternal cycle, a cycle without any meaning. He no longer feared, for he had transcended all understanding. He no longer suffered, for he was no longer "Feng Jing."

He is just a speck of dust in the universe, floating in the void and can never disappear.

The absurd ultimate universe that never really began and will never end.