There's really no way, I'm going to be Tianzun

Understood! Here's the edited version without the dialogue headings:

Zhang Sanfeng, eyes wide with shock, gasped at the ancient message displayed within the chat group. A hundred thousand years? His world boasted only a measly few thousand years of recorded history.

"Could immortals roam your world, Meng Daoyou?" he inquired, his voice tinged with awe.

Without a word, Meng Chuan uploaded a memory fragment, granting the group a glimpse into the Great Tribulation of Emperor Ducheng – a cataclysm that unfolded a hundred years prior.

Boom!

The immeasurable divine calamity raged, the cosmos shattered by the blast, thunder flooded into the universe, and countless galaxies were blasted into smoke and dust. The supreme law spread throughout the universe.

Amidst the deafening symphony of thunder, a lone figure stood defiant – Meng Chuan himself. He absorbed the immense divine energy, his Dao magnificently merging with the universe.

From the depths of the tribulation, phantoms of ancient masters materialized: Heavenly Sovereigns, wielders of celestial swords, and figures bearing archaic mirrors. Meng Chuan met their onslaught with fierce determination, fists and feet painting the void with crimson blooms.

The cosmos churned in chaos, galaxies pulverized by the aftershocks of their epic clash. Time blurred as Meng Chuan shattered phantom after phantom, his own body bearing the scars of battle. Yet, with a final earth-shaking roar, he swallowed the entire tribulation whole, his wounds mending at an accelerated pace.

Sitting on the cosmic edge, bathed in newfound power, Meng Chuan surveyed the universe, countless voices chanting "Daoshi the Great." A generation of Tianjiao wept, for with the rise of one emperor, all others remained overshadowed.

"Did you all see them?" Meng Chuan continued. "Then the chat group automatically cut a hair?"

Meng Qi confirmed, "It cut those exercises!"

Seeing the Emperor's concern for his people, Meng Qi's spirits brightened.

"Now, you understand my limitations," Meng Chuan continued. "Even the invincible Emperor is powerless against time. If others knew... their jaws would drop. The mighty ruler of the heavens, reduced to a mere observer, bound by longevity."

Zhang Sanfeng frowned, "Powerless? What ails you, Xiaomeng?"

Yuan Dagu echoed the confusion, "Why the sudden shift in topic?"

"Xiao Meng's world is unique," Meng Chuan explained, "a rare anomaly."

"How unique?" Zhang Sanfeng pressed.

Meng Chuan hesitated, searching for the right words. "In my prime, I wouldn't be a top player in Xiao Meng's world."

He couldn't compare their realms. In Xiao Meng's world, the supreme figures held the heavens and all realms in their palms, capable of reshaping existence at will with a mere thought. Words failed to encapsulate such absolute power.

"That world…" Meng Chuan mused, "even the legendary realm pales in comparison. The strongest there could overthrow the heavens and all realms, starting anew as they please. It's beyond comprehension."

"The copy of destiny," he added, "can be entered by others, or even cut by the owner. Xiao Meng, would you allow us a glimpse into your world?"

Hesitantly, Meng Qi granted access. Curiosity gnawed at Meng Chuan – a chance to experience firsthand the power he described.

"Desperate, hopeless, waiting for death…" echoed from the copy of destiny, plunging everyone into the suffocating weight of despair.

Zhang Sanfeng, Yuan Dagu, and Koichi expressed their concern and offered their perspectives. Meng Qi, grappling with his predicament, eventually acknowledged his path forward.

The Emperor and the others remained speechless, a sense of awe and humility lingering in the air. The line between reality and prophecy had blurred, leaving them with profound questions about fate, power, and the nature of existence.