Daoist40

THIS BOOK IS MAINLY FOCUSED ON HINDU MYTHOLOGY BUT WE WILL ALSO DWELL INTO OTHER MYTHOLOGIES AS WE PROGRESS
IT IS A BLEND OF MYTHOLOGIES
AND DUNGEONS

HOPE YOU HAVE A GREAT READ


Year: 2035.

Ten years ago, the skies cracked.


Not with thunder, nor warplanes—

but with rifts.

These weren’t just visual anomalies. They were gateways—interdimensional portals that Earth’s scientists quickly termed “Dungeons.”

Dungeons or portals as the world now called them, appeared across the Earth without warning. Each one was a fracture between dimensions—some leading to mythological realms long forgotten, others to alien landscapes so hostile they devoured entire scouting teams.

At first, the world panicked, assuming them to be nuclear tests, alien invasions, or natural disasters. But these dungeons didn’t behave like anything known to physics. Satellite footage showed each portal surrounded by a zone of atmospheric distortion. Inside them? Entire landscapes alien to our Earth—some mythological, others monstrous and unknowable.


Some dungeons contained creatures straight out of ancient scripture—Nāgas from Vedic texts, harpies from Greco-Roman mythology, or obscure gods who had long since been forgotten by mankind. Other rifts revealed biomes more suited to nightmares: acidic jungles, ice worlds that bent gravity, or structures pulsing with intelligence.



In the first month alone, five major cities fell.
Beijing, Lagos, São Paulo, Istanbul, and Philadelphia—gone, overrun by creatures we didn’t understand, coming through dungeons we couldn’t close.


Then came the second anomaly. A global surge in human neural activity.

Scientists identified it as a quantum shift in consciousness. Spiritual leaders called it divine selection. Journalists labeled it “The Great Filter.” But the name that stuck was:
Awakening.

Roughly 20% of humanity developed access to an invisible “System”—a personal interface only they could see. It gave them abilities, status screens, and skills that turned ordinary people into weapons.

The rest of the world? Still human. Still fragile. Still dying.



Roughly 20% of the global population began to exhibit System access—an invisible interface only visible to the user. This System showed stats, combat abilities, class upgrades, and most importantly, potential.

It wasn’t random.
Those who Awakened were typically 18 or older, and many had undergone moments of extreme stress, trauma, or proximity to a dungeon. Some said the System chose warriors. Others claimed it selected reincarnated souls or bloodlines tied to forgotten mythologies.

Now, the world lives in a tense balance. Hunters ranked from F to SSS defend the Earth from dungeon incursions. And deep within this chaos…

In some cities, Awakened rule like kings. In others, governments remain intact, barely holding together.

Technology also evolved:
Mana-reactive alloys replaced steel.
Smart-glass visors sync with System interfaces.
Dungeon-gathered artifacts are now global trade commodities.

And deep in the shadows…
Some dungeons don’t close and breaks happen.
Some awakeners don’t follow the rules.
And some individuals… aren’t just chosen.

They’re remembered.

And in the midst of this fragile new era—
a man named Arvan will learn that the voice in his head…
is not madness.
It is a memory.
A throne. A war.
And a name: Rāvaṇa.

A storm begins to stir.

The Eleventh Head

THE SLEEPING MAW – DUNGEON INTERIOR – NIGHT

A vast, underground stone corridor stretches forward like the throat of some sleeping beast. The walls breathe faintly, exhaling ancient air. Giant sculptures of forgotten rakshasas and celestial warriors stand cracked and weathered along the sides, as if watching silently. Red-tinged vines slither along the ceilings like veins. The deeper one goes, the colder — and more alive — it feels.

Arvan's boots echo as he steps beyond the glowing portal. The world behind seals shut with a snap like a book closing. Darkness rushes forward—then recedes as torchlights on the wall burst to life in a ripple, as though the dungeon is… welcoming him.

"No monsters… no alarms. Just silence. Why does it feel like this place already knows me?"

A soft wind brushes past him — a whisper, not quite a word, more like a memory brushing against his soul.

Then the System window flickers open:

Warning: Trial-based dungeon – Entry permitted for one candidate only.

"Trial? What the hell is that supposed to—"

The system screen glitches. His name: ARVAN begins to flicker, then violently distorts—

Note: Restricted stats hidden by order of the Akashic Seal.

The rest of the screen becomes an obsidian blur of black boxes. Only two lines remain visible:

Skill Unlocked: "Thousand Minds, One Will"

Passive Active: "Dread Sovereign's Presence"

Arvan pulls back, breathing heavily "What the… what the HELL is happening to me?!"

From deep within the temple, something ancient groans awake. A colossal statue at the far end cracks open. Its face is unmistakably familiar. Not from books. From within.

And a voice thunders into Arvan's skull:

"You should not have come here… if you still wished to be him."

Arvan screams "No—no—I'm not you! You're just a memory! A parasite!"

RĀVAṆA "Then why is your heart singing?"

Suddenly, the statue explodes into dust.

From the darkness ahead, six shadows begin to emerge — each one robed in armor not from this age, each carrying weapons etched in celestial scripts and Asura markings.

These are no monsters. These are the Judges of the Maw.

CHAPTER 18 – THE SLEEPING MAW – DUNGEON INTERIOR – NIGHT