Wanxianguixu

The world once split into countless timelines for every choice, until one day, the division stopped and all the threads began to fold crazily. Now, thousands of versions of the same person walk the streets - emperors, beggars, corpses, and even inhuman forms. They brushed against each other, looked at each other for a second, and then continued on to their respective ends. The "Returner" who stands at the intersection of all lines is the only one who can see all possibilities. He thought he had been numb for a long time, until one day, a "version zero" that had never appeared in any timeline was born out of thin air and said to him: 'We are not folded, we are screened. ' When everything has happened, does the choice itself still have any meaning? ——Unless this is not a choice at all, but a judgment. (Urban fantasy × existentialism × group portrait epic, every figure is an undead heartbeat.)