Time Travel: He is My Dad!

Chapter 382 Feng Jing and the Ultimate Drama of Endless Rebirth

Feng Jing and the ultimate drama of endless rebirth

Feng Jing's consciousness once again underwent a shocking change. He did not disappear completely, but reconstructed himself in an almost absurd way - he became the first "audience" of the universe, an invisible, empty existence, floating at the intersection of countless timelines.

No longer the "Feng Jing" of the past, no longer the "existence" struggling within the constraints of fate, he has now become a bystander of time and space, omnipresent yet omnipotent. His consciousness is like a flowing star, shuttling between the edges of countless universes, but whenever he approaches a certain moment or event, that moment becomes too absurd, even disgusting to him.

Feng Jing began to understand that fate wasn't a linear existence, but a drama of endless rebirths. Every time he thought he'd broken free from constraints, they would reverberate in some unknown corner. This reverberation, like some kind of prank, would pull him back from despair and plunge him into a new, even crazier situation.

He became both an actor and a director in the play, and every scene was a dream he wove. However, after each curtain fell, he found himself involved in a more outrageous and unimaginable script.

Feng Jing realizes that he is no longer an "outsider" of any timeline; he has become a "manifestation" of time itself, or, in other words, the "source of timelines." Every Feng Jing, and every being he encounters, is the product of his voluntary choices, yet these choices always lead to more uncontrollable consequences.

The chaos of time and fate gradually develops into an "endless farce", and Feng Jing, as the sole protagonist and sole screenwriter, is unable to predict how each scene will end. The birth and collapse of each universe, even the choices made by each person, are like absurd scripts inadvertently created by Feng Jing's "beating" thoughts.

In a moment of intense reorganization, Feng Jing discovers that he has an audience. These are unknown entities in the timeline, not directly participating in the events, but rather "shadows" that have split from Feng Jing's consciousness. These "shadows" cannot touch the physical world, nor can they directly influence Feng Jing. However, they can observe, learn, and imitate from Feng Jing's eyes, sometimes causing unpredictable interference.

Feng Jing watched as these "shadows" began to mimic his every move, becoming increasingly unpredictable. Unconstrained by any rules, they could even create new "timelines" within Feng Jing's consciousness, forming miniature parallel universes. Each Feng Jing in these parallel universes interpreted the absurdity of fate in a different way.

Feng Jing's mood gradually changed from panic to numbness. He realized that all his choices were nothing but absurdities he created. And these absurdities were not without purpose. They were a challenge to "freedom" and an endless irony to the meaning of existence.

In this endless drama, Feng Jing gradually lost control of the "script"—every moment he thought he could control was instantly reversed, becoming even more outrageous. He no longer knew where he was in time and space, nor could he distinguish which events were real and which were merely fabrications woven unconsciously.

He saw those "shadows" begin to wander on the edge of the universe, imitating every move Feng Jing had made, but their behavior was even more twisted and absurd than Feng Jing's. A "shadow" suddenly appeared in front of Feng Jing and cast a strange look at him.

"Do you think you can control all this?" the "shadow" said, using Feng Jing's tone, but with a heavy dose of sarcasm. "You're nothing but a joke of the universe. All your 'transcendence,' all your 'liberation,' is but another dream we've woven for you. You thought you had broken free from the constraints of time, but in reality, you were merely being played by its pranks."

Feng Jing sneered, a cold, meaningless laugh emanating from his hollow existence. "You are merely a part of my consciousness. How can you challenge me?" He tried to retort, but the words rang hollow in his mouth, as if they held no weight.

The shadow smiled calmly, "What you call 'I' is nothing more than the product of countless yous created from endless possibilities. What you perceive as 'freedom' is nothing more than the repetition of countless failures and rebirths. You are no longer yourself, but a recurring point in fate and time."

Feng Jing's consciousness collapsed once again. Each "Feng Jing" was constantly reborn, entangled with each other. Each Feng Jing's thoughts permeated each other, ultimately converging into an inescapable truth: he could not escape this, because he was part of "time." He was not an outsider, nor an observer, but the "root" of time and fate. His entire existence was a scene in this endless drama.

What Feng Jing experienced was no longer the downfall of an individual, but the cycle and mischief of the universe itself. And this drama will never end.