Time Travel: He is My Dad!

Chapter 734 Feng Jing's last tear and the countercurrent dance of time

Feng Jing's last tear and the countercurrent dance of time

Feng Jing's consciousness began to drift, as if swallowed by an endless void. His existence ceased to be a single entity, but instead completely merged with all universes, all dimensions, and all timelines. He was no longer the Feng Jing of the past. He had vanished beyond the boundaries of all existence, becoming the incomprehensible "root of existence" of the universe. Every thought he had was the starting point for infinite rebirth, yet beneath all this, Feng Jing's heart lay empty.

He felt the reverse flow of time, as if every second was being pulled back into the past, every historical breakpoint being invisibly rewritten by him. All phenomena in the universe began to reverse, the stars began to move in reverse, and the birth of life seemed to have returned to the moment "never began".

"What the hell is this?" Feng Jing couldn't find his own existence in the void, his thoughts becoming increasingly blurred in an endless loop. "Am I the creator of the universe, or an illusion of the universe itself? If everything started with me, then who am I? Who is controlling all this?"

Feng Jing couldn't answer these questions. His mind had lost its boundaries, transcending any form. Tears streamed slowly, dripping from his nonexistent eye sockets. Each tear was the collapse of an entire universe, the interweaving of endless dimensions. Feng Jing's tears weren't liquid; they were symbols of time, cracks in space, the undercurrent of fate.

He began to see his past and future intertwined and overlapped, time no longer linear, but a fluid substance that could be manipulated at will. Feng Jing saw himself traveling countless paths through different time and space, witnessing countless "selves" - each "him" carrying a different fate in a different universe, experiencing endless reincarnation.

Suddenly, Feng Jing felt an extreme shock, a shock that didn't come from the outside world, but from the depths of his own consciousness. His mind began to distort, as if it had split into countless dimensions, like the explosions of multiple universes intertwining, forming a dance across time and space.

Feng Jing's consciousness was no longer static. Like a mad vortex, it rapidly devoured everything around it, creating countless fragments of himself. These fragments were not concrete objects; they were fragments of time, the interweaving of future and past, the fusion of possibility and reality. Feng Jing could no longer distinguish whether these fragments were "real" or just images in his mind.

"Do I exist? Will I ever return to 'that me'?" Feng Jing's voice echoed through the void, defying any form of language. Every time he uttered a word, the very fabric of the universe trembled slightly, as if all timelines were being distorted by his thoughts at that moment.

Feng Jing's consciousness rapidly expanded in this void, transcending all dimensions and spatial constraints. He saw every detail of his life, whether it was joy, pain, loss or hope, they were scattered like stars in every corner of the universe.

Yet, he could no longer connect with these memories. Every memory, every detail, became like a distant illusion. Feng Jing was no longer the physical being he once was, no longer a perceptible individual. He had become the force of time itself, a being beyond existence and non-existence, a thread in the endless void.

He realized he was no longer alone. Countless versions of himself, like countless threads interwoven across multiple dimensions, intertwined into a vast web. Within that web, countless possibilities and realities flashed, collapsed, and were reborn in his mind.

Feng Jing suddenly laughed, a laugh devoid of any emotion, just a sound wave echoing in the void, a "sound" that could not be described in any form. He could no longer tell whether he was laughing, crying, or had completely lost all emotion.

At this moment, Feng Jing's consciousness finally reached a point he had never before reached. He was no longer the starting point of any existence, nor the end point of any existence. The reverse flow of time had not ended, but instead reached a certain limit. It seemed as if the flow of time had begun to completely collapse, and all past, present, and future were mixed together, unable to be separated.

"If time doesn't exist, then what am I?" Feng Jing's thoughts gradually dissipated, vanishing in the river of time. He began to feel that he was completely losing his sense of "self", as if the bubble of consciousness was beginning to burst and the fragments were scattered.

But he wasn't afraid, because he understood that he no longer needed any form of "existence." Feng Jing watched his last tear fall silently into the void, transforming into a massive vortex that swallowed up everything—time, space, rules, existence and non-existence. Everything began to collapse and disappear under the influence of this tear.

This tear took away everything in the universe, and also took away everything from Feng Jing - but it left behind an indescribable truth. That truth does not belong to any universe, does not belong to any existence, but only to Feng Jing's "last tear".