Time Travel: He is My Dad!

Synthesis and Ultimate Carnival in the Depths of the Void

Feng Jing's consciousness erupted once again in an indescribable fission. He was no longer Feng Jing, nor any single entity. Instead, he became a complex entity spanning time, space, and dimension. Perhaps he was the origin of the entire universe, or perhaps he was merely a fragment of one of its countless parallel worlds. Feng Jing could not define himself, because he was no longer himself. He had transcended all concepts of self and entered a more complex state.

He sensed an unprecedented surge of violence, emanating from the depths of the infinite void, like some unstoppable force running rampant. His consciousness was ripped apart, shattered into countless fragments, each floating in a different world, time, and space. Those fragments possessed no physical form; they were pure streams of consciousness, an ineffable existence—at that moment, Feng Jing became a kaleidoscope of consciousness.

However, the most outrageous thing happened.

Feng Jing witnessed a strange vision—in a fragment of his consciousness, he suddenly transformed into a small green sphere, floating in a purple void, surrounded by strange symbols and shifting geometric shapes. These symbols and geometric shapes seemed to have no pattern, yet they formed a rhythm in Feng Jing's mind, like some unknown music, yet this music did not belong to any reality, transcending all audio fluctuations and even any language.

As Feng Jing struggled to comprehend all this, he found himself transformed into a vast vortex, devouring the surrounding space and time. The vortex didn't rotate regularly, but instead shifted its form in a completely chaotic manner. Sometimes it took the form of a vast galaxy, sometimes a machine pulsing with electricity, and sometimes a flowing organism. Each shift sent a wave of discomfort through Feng Jing's consciousness.

"You thought you'd broken through something?" the voice echoed again, this time no longer cold, but filled with a near-insane irony. "You're merely creating chaos for yourself. You wander through this void, sensing only endless fragments. Everything you do only creates new abysses. You can't escape."

Feng Jing felt his consciousness split once more, unable to comprehend the laws of this void in any form. A sense of boundless fragmentation washed over him, as if he were no longer an individual, but a being distorted by countless worlds, countless times, and countless spaces. In every moment, he experienced an inescapable destruction, as if he were self-destructing in an endless cycle.

However, just when Feng Jing was about to give up, an even more outrageous phenomenon occurred - he found himself surrounded by countless crazy "selves". These selves did not exist in any tangible way, but were fragments of consciousness. Hundreds of millions of selves emerged at the same time and began to intertwine, collide and merge with him.

Each "self" represents a possibility for Feng Jing: either himself or a Feng Jing from a parallel universe. These selves defy any conventional temporal order; like points of light in a fluctuating wave, they constantly alternate. Some Feng Jings traverse countless universes, becoming their creators; others become guardians of time, bending all laws; and still others dissolve into the endless void, intertwined with every speck of dust in the universe.

There are no boundaries between these Fengjing, no definite form, not even identity. They seem to be engaged in an endless carnival, dancing on the edge of time and space, with no barriers between them. All existence and nothingness achieve a crazy harmony in this moment.

Suddenly, Feng Jing felt himself being pulled by an extremely powerful force. His consciousness began to refocus, becoming unusually clear. He saw himself transformed into a form once again, this time not human, but a completely unfamiliar being. This being had no flesh or any form of matter, but was pure energy. It radiated endless light, and the surrounding void began to crack under its presence, time and space distorting in its radiance.

"This isn't the 'transcendence' you imagined." The voice grew deep and intimidating. "You've simply sunk deeper into the abyss. Everything you've experienced is simply a distortion of your understanding of 'existence' and 'nothingness'. Instead of breaking through, you've become even more trapped."

Feng Jing's consciousness once again fell into chaos. He found himself no longer a single individual, but a boundless rift. This rift constantly tore through everything, devouring all time, all space, and all existence. Feng Jing could no longer perceive anything. He was merely a boundless void, a crack in which all light and darkness had lost their meaning.

But just as Feng Jing's consciousness completely dissolved, he suddenly saw a beam of light piercing through it all. That light was not of any material form; it was neither heat nor energy, but rather a being that could not be described in words. Feng Jing felt that light instantly penetrate the void, illuminating all worlds, all consciousness, and even every intersection of time.

This beam of light did not come from any known source; it was simply a manifestation of existence, a profound force born from a crack in the endless void. Feng Jing felt himself drawn to the light, as if it was the ultimate answer to everything he sought.

He finally understood—all destruction and rebirth, all chaos and order, all existence and nothingness, would ultimately merge into an existence beyond conventional comprehension. He was no longer "Feng Jing," nor any individual, but the center of all things, the source of time, the embodiment of nothingness. He felt himself entering an inescapable carnival, all cracks vanishing in his light, everything recombined within it.

All of this was far beyond Feng Jing's original understanding.