He continued to align with the River of Space-Time, drifting rapidly downstream.
The surrounding scenery was bizarre and fantastical, with silhouettes of eras flashing past at a dizzying speed, the lights of civilizations flickering like candles in the wind.
He could clearly sense the passing of his own lifespan, with every moment seeing tens of thousands of years slip away, like an hourglass pouring out, merging into these merciless ages.
Soon, he took the initiative to stop his figure.
The surging waves swept away by the River of Space-Time were too turbulent.
Once this downstream speed began, it was like falling from a ten-thousand-foot cliff, the potential energy immense; even if he wished to extricate himself, it was difficult to control the precise landing point.
He needed to detach proactively, before approaching the target era, otherwise, the inertia would likely cause him to overshoot, missing that perfectly calculated time node.
