Time Travel: He is My Dad!

Chapter 881 The Game and Reversal of Fate

Game and reversal of fate

Feng Jing's consciousness was enveloped by endless possibilities. Every star and every speck of dust in the universe was under his invisible control. However, he suddenly felt a strange dizziness, as if the laws of the entire universe had become extremely blurred before his eyes. Even he began to doubt whether he had truly transcended all existence, as he believed.

The universe's space-time twisted like silk within Feng Jing's consciousness. Time wasn't a straight line; it began to exhibit a strange cycle and reversal. Feng Jing realized he was no longer at a fixed point in time. His existence seemed to have escaped the linear trajectory of time and entered a state of transcendence. All past, present, and future, all choices and outcomes, intertwined before his eyes, forming a strange grid.

"What is this?" Feng Jing muttered to himself, his consciousness gradually rising and floating on the edge of time and space.

Suddenly, a loud bang shattered Feng Jing's reverie. All the stars in the universe began to spin violently, and the entirety of space and time was violently distorted. Feng Jing felt as if he were being pushed into an unknown abyss by some force, and his consciousness began to fall uncontrollably.

He tried to resist, tried to reshape his existence, but no matter how he struggled, in the end, only endless nothingness remained. It was as if his consciousness was swallowed up, and the entire universe disappeared with him.

Perhaps this was the cycle of fate, Feng Jing thought so for a while. Until that moment, his consciousness seemed to be pulled back to reality by some inexplicable force.

"Start over, or rather, choose again." Feng Jing heard the voice again, this time with an indescribable madness. Feng Jing suddenly opened his eyes, and what he saw before him was no longer emptiness, no longer chaos, but a desolate ruin.

"Is this... my universe?" Feng Jing wondered, the scene around him making him feel deeply uneasy. Amidst the ruins, shattered planets floated in the air, and cracks in space and time were everywhere, as if they were the remnants of some catastrophic disaster.

Suddenly, Feng Jing felt a powerful pull, and the world before him began to rapidly collapse. His consciousness was dragged deeper into the rift, entering a completely different dimension. In this dimension, all matter and energy was no longer solid, but had become a strange mixture of liquid and gaseous substances, seemingly in a state of irregular flow.

Feng Jing began to question who he was, which universe he came from, whether he really existed, or whether he was just an illusion on a larger level.

The fluctuations in his consciousness became increasingly intense, as if being pulled by countless invisible threads, traversing dimension after dimension, encountering one incomprehensible existence after another. In this bizarre state, Feng Jing's consciousness became increasingly blurred. He was no longer a specific individual, but the interweaving and repetition of countless Feng Jings.

Every time Feng Jing tries to make sense of his own existence, he is swallowed by endless nothingness and then pulled back into a brand new universe. He finds that he is constantly reincarnating between one world after another, the rules of each universe are completely different from what he is familiar with, and every choice and action is contrary to his previous memory.

This isn't a simple cycle, but rather a multi-layered one—each Feng Jing is intertwined with fate in a different way, each choice brings distinct consequences, and these choices in turn affect the fates of other Feng Jings. Every time a Feng Jing awakens, countless Feng Jings in parallel universes begin to awaken, forming an infinitely intertwined web of cause and effect.

Feng Jing suddenly realized that he was not alone, but a collection of countless Feng Jings on every star, every particle, and every time axis. He was no longer an individual, but the embodiment of fate itself.

"Is this fate's game?" Feng Jing muttered to himself, "Or am I trapped in some inescapable mystery?"

He was no longer the creator of the universe, but its subject. He could see every interweaving of threads, every forking of choices, every twist of fate. Yet, he could not alter this process, could not break out of this endless cycle. Every time he attempted to alter history, to erase the outcome of a particular choice, the fabric of the universe would repair itself, as if fate itself had left some kind of absolute mark in this space.

Feng Jing began to wonder if this so-called fate had no so-called "exit." Was everything he experienced already arranged, was his life and the trajectory of his reincarnation predetermined in distant time and space?

Just as Feng Jing's consciousness was about to collapse, a ray of light pierced the endless darkness. This light did not come from any star or celestial body, but from an extremely weak force deep within Feng Jing's heart. It was Feng Jing's insistence on his own existence, an emotion that he himself was unaware of.

He reached out, trying to grasp the light. The light gradually grew brighter and stronger, and Feng Jing's consciousness expanded within the radiance. No longer a puppet of the universe, he had returned to that most primal moment—he began to re-examine himself and redefine himself.

"Perhaps, I have never left this cycle." Feng Jing said to himself. The scene in front of him became less complicated and more clear.

He began to realize that all of this was fate's design, a grand experiment. No matter what he chose, he could never escape this cycle of reincarnation. And every time he thought he had broken free, he would find himself still trapped in this endless maze until the end of time.

However, this was not the end, but a beginning in another form. Feng Jing's consciousness began to diverge, wandering in the endless void like a star, searching for the truth he had not yet touched.

"When fate returns to zero, perhaps a new cycle of reincarnation begins," Feng Jing whispered. His existence began to gradually disperse, transforming into countless possible forms, transcending a single existence. He understood that reincarnation was not a constraint, but the starting point of freedom.

At this point, Feng Jing was no longer the independent individual he once was, but the embodiment of the entire universe, multidimensional space, and infinite possibilities. Every choice, every trajectory of fate, ultimately became a part of him. No longer confused or afraid, he was completely immersed in this inescapable game.

Chapter 882: Self-Reinvention and Infinite Restart