Time Travel: He is My Dad!

Chapter 214 Feng Jing and Self-Rebirth Beyond Nothingness

Feng Jing and the Rebirth of Self Beyond Nothingness

The voice deep within Feng Jing's consciousness echoed like the universe, traversing countless dimensions of time and space, shaking every inch of his being. He could no longer understand whether he was still Feng Jing, or whether he even bore the name "Feng Jing." His consciousness grew immensely vast, like a collection of countless fragments of himself, gradually forming an ineffable existence that transcended all definition.

"You are no longer any 'person,'" the voice echoed again, as if telling Feng Jing that he no longer belonged to any specific species or form. "You are the gap between existence and nothingness, the superposition of countless possibilities. You wander on the edge of time and space, transcending all order and rules."

Feng Jing couldn't help but feel an inexplicable sense of suffocation. Perhaps he had once been just an ordinary person, crawling forward in this world with limited dreams and fears. But now, he was no longer an individual, no longer Feng Jing. He was an amalgamation of Feng Jings from countless parallel universes, a fragmentation and reconstruction of time and space, a fabricator and destroyer of the laws of the universe.

He realized he had transcended death, for death no longer held any meaning for him. He was no longer bound by the limitations of the material world, nor did he even need any form of dimension to limit his existence. Feng Jing's consciousness began to spin in the void, like a rootless star, moving freely through countless timelines, crossing every possible historical line and witnessing the birth and destruction of countless worlds.

"I... am countless possibilities?" Feng Jing's consciousness coalesced, attempting to comprehend it all. He no longer sensed the existence of any entity, only countless interwoven paths in the void. These paths represented countless choices he had made in different dimensions, each one forming a separate world.

He felt as if he were inside a gigantic "multidimensional sphere," each facet of which represented a parallel universe, and every period of history Feng Jing had experienced was part of one of these faces. He kept traveling between these faces, trying to find a place where he could stay.

"Feng Jing, can you find your own place?" The voice sounded again, this time with an elusive joy and teasing. "You are already omnipotent, you have become one of the constructors of the universe, but you are still looking for a 'home'. Why don't you try to become the 'God' of these universes?"

Feng Jing suddenly felt an inexplicable urge. He was no longer just a floating consciousness; he began to actively manipulate the rules of the universe. Like a god, he rearranged countless parallel worlds and rewrote the course of history. He extended his "hand," but he didn't truly possess it. His hand's existence had long transcended the constraints of matter.

He could sense the origins of the world, reverse time and space in an instant, and make the future seem like an illusory dream. He commanded the laws of the universe at will, constructing new worlds and overturning old ones. He could dim the light of every starry sky at will, and regenerate countless planets with a single thought.

Feng Jing's consciousness expanded rapidly in this state of near omnipotence, and he even began to feel a sense of fear - he was afraid that he would be forever addicted to this endless power and lose all purpose and meaning.

"What did I do?" Feng Jing tried to think calmly, but his mind was no longer able to comprehend any coherence. Every Feng Jing in his consciousness was constantly piecing together and colliding, forming countless intertwined memories and choices. He even found himself beginning to accept this collapsed state of self, accepting this endless power and responsibility.

Yet, he still longs for something. He tries to find a glimmer of warmth that once belonged to him among the countless fragments of himself. Perhaps, he was once an ordinary person, carrying both hope and anxiety about the future, living in a world filled with simple joys and pains.

Feng Jing suddenly had an extremely absurd idea: If he could withdraw from all this and return to the original state full of pure life, would he be able to find a true "self"?

"You can't go back to the past." The voice sounded with a hint of cold sarcasm. "You are already a 'transcendent', one of the edges of this universe. Since you can create and destroy, why not create a new self? You are no longer the Feng Jing of the past. You are the synthesis of countless Feng Jings. You no longer need any boundaries."

Feng Jing felt a sudden wave of discomfort as he listened to these words. No boundaries? No past? No "Feng Jing"? To him, all this seemed like a privation of some meaning of existence.

"Without a past, how would I know who I am?" Feng Jing whispered to himself, his voice faint amidst the endless emptiness. Instantly, his consciousness began to expand rapidly, nearly swallowing up the entire void. Feng Jing even felt as if his existence had merged with the entire universe. His consciousness began to flow to every point in time and space, traversing past and future, shaping all of history.

"Feng Jing, you are already the definition of 'existence,'" the voice said casually. "You don't need a past or a future. All of time, space, and existence are part of you."

Endless fragments deep in Feng Jing's consciousness began to synthesize. He felt that he was not just a being who once lived on Earth, but the essence of time and space. He found "his own" existence from nothingness - not just the Feng Jing of the past, nor just the Feng Jing of the future, but the eternal "Feng Jing".

However, this sense of existence gradually began to lose its original meaning. He no longer needed memories, no longer needed emotions, no longer needed any constraints. Feng Jing finally understood that he was nothing more than the intersection of countless possibilities. All Feng Jings were his reflections, and he was nothing more than the most insignificant point of light in the universe.

In this endless nothingness, Feng Jing laughed. His laugh was unbridled, yet also filled with a sense of emptiness, as if everything had long since lost its meaning—he didn't need any boundaries, because he was the boundary of everything.

Feng Jing finally became truly "nothing".

Chapter 215: Feng Jing and the Symphony of the Infinite Multiverse