Devta Bhakt System: Rise of the Divine Protector
Tagline:When the world rejects him, the oldest power of the universe will choose him. The epic journey of an ordinary teacher to becoming the protector of gods.
Chapter 1: The Invitation of Fate
The silence was so deep that Suraj could hear his own heartbeat pounding like a war drum.
An endless, suffocating darkness surrounded him—so thick it felt as if it could be touched.
There were no stars in the sky, no trace of the moon's gentle glow. It was as if the entire universe had closed its eyes, waiting for an inevitable catastrophe.
In the middle of that infinite void, Suraj was running with all his strength.
The worn-out soles of his torn shoes echoed against the dry ground — thud… thud… thud…
Strangely, he wasn't running away from something. Instead, there was an invisible pull in the air—a magnetic force dragging his very soul forward.
His breath was ragged, his lungs burning for air, yet there was no fear on his face. Only a cold… divine… otherworldly glow.
Behind him, a tide was rising.
Not of humans… but of creatures that existed only in ancient myths and nightmares.
Some ran across the ground with the speed of wild beasts, their claws tearing into stone.
Others soared through the sky with massive wings, slicing through the air with a deafening roar.
Translucent beings flowed alongside a dark river nearby, like living shadows drifting through existence.
They were terrifying. Their fangs gleamed like lightning. Their eyes burned like embers.
Yet there was no chaos among them. They were not chasing Suraj. They were following him. Like an army.
A strange aura surrounded Suraj—an energy field that wasn't hot… nor cold… It was alive. As if the very air around him was breathing.
Suraj, who looked no older than twenty-one or twenty-two, suddenly stopped upon reaching a high mound.
And the moment he stopped—everything froze.
Dust particles hung motionless in the air. Leaves stopped moving. Time itself… stood still.
Then—a miracle unfolded.
One by one, those terrifying creatures knelt before him.
As their foreheads touched the ground, their monstrous forms began to dissolve. Smoke and golden light intertwined as their bodies transformed… into human figures.
From the crowd, an old man with a long white beard stepped forward. His eyes carried the weight of thousands of years—filled with wisdom… and sorrow.
Behind him stood a young warrior clad in shining armor, engraved with constellations and galaxies. They looked like remnants of an ancient civilization.
There was no hatred in them. No questions. Only surrender. They sat at Suraj's feet.
Then, parting through the crowd, several breathtakingly beautiful women approached.
Their skin was pale like moonlight, their presence serene yet overwhelming. Their eyes held an endless affection… as if they had been waiting for him for eternity.
Without a single word, they embraced him. Their touch carried a warmth and comfort Suraj had never felt in his entire life.
For the first time… he didn't feel like a nobody. He felt like the center of the universe.
But just as he was about to respond to their gentle touch—reality shattered the illusion.
" Suraj ! Are you getting up or not? You're going to be late for school again! Every day it's the same nonsense ! "
His eyes snapped open. The cracked ceiling stared back at him—the same one that leaked during the rain.
The room was small, suffocating, and cluttered with stacks of books. His body was drenched in sweat.
He was back. Back in the body of that Suraj. Just an ordinary school teacher.
The same routine repeated itself. Because of these dreams, Suraj often fell into deep sleep and ended up being late for school. Today was no different.
By the time he arrived, the morning prayer had already ended.
The gatekeeper looked at him with disdain—a gaze that pierced his chest like a needle.
As he passed by the principal's office, a sharp voice called out:
"Mr. Suraj! Come here."
His heart sank. Principal Sharma sat firmly in his chair, his expression strict and authoritative.
"Five minutes late, sir," Suraj said nervously.
"Five minutes? Your watch always shows five minutes, doesn't it, Mr. Suraj?" he snapped loudly, making sure everyone could hear. "Teaching is a profession of discipline, and you are completely undisciplined."
He paused, then added coldly: "This time, one day's salary will be deducted. And after school, you will stay back and fix the registers."
Suraj lowered his head. He said nothing.
Nearby colleagues whispered among themselves. "Who knows what he does at night… probably wasting his time somewhere."
Anger burned within him, but he was helpless. He taught sincerely.
The students liked him—not because he used fear, but because he taught them with patience and understanding.
But in this world… being honest only brought him pain. And being kind only made him weak in the eyes of others.
By the time he returned home in the evening, exhaustion and humiliation had hollowed him out.
Suraj didn't argue. He never did. He just placed his bag on a rickety wooden chair and wiped the sweat from his forehead.
He wanted to close his eyes, just for five minutes, to escape the noise of the world.
But reality never gave him time to rest.
" Suraj ! Are you listening ? " his father's voice boomed from the front of the house. "The shop is running low on supplies. Go to the main market and bring the stock for tomorrow."
Suraj felt a sharp sting of irritation in his chest.
The main market. Again ?
"Pitaji, I just brought the stock yesterday," Suraj replied, his voice laced with exhaustion.
"That was for today! Do you want the customers to go back empty-handed tomorrow?" his father snapped back. "Go now, before the wholesale shops close. And don't take an hour this time!"
This was his father's daily ritual. Instead of buying a week's worth of supplies, he insisted on fresh stock every single day. It was a cycle designed to keep Suraj busy, to keep him under control.
With a heavy sigh, Suraj picked up the heavy jute bags. The half-hour trip to the market felt like a walk through fire.
By the time he returned and arranged the items in their small grocery shop, his legs were trembling.
Finally, he managed to retreat toward his sanctuary. Before he could enter his room, his mother intercepted him.
"You're late again. Did you bring the groceries or not?" she asked, her voice sharp with annoyance.
"Bhaiya, you still haven't paid my tuition fees. My teacher was asking again today," his sister complained, following him to the door.
Suraj didn't answer. He didn't even look back. Their voices felt like distant echoes, fading into the buzzing in his ears.
He simply walked past them, his footsteps heavy, and entered his small, cramped room—a space overflowing with stacks of old books.
He closed the door behind him, shutting out their demands and the cold reality of his house.
He didn't need to explain. He was too tired… to care.
That night, as darkness filled the room, Suraj lay on his bed. Tears filled his eyes. His simple phone rested in his hand.
He scrolled through social media mechanically, searching for an escape, but even the digital world seemed to mock his stagnant life.
"Is my entire life going to be like this…?" he whispered into the darkness. "Just humiliation and poverty? Were those dreams nothing but an illusion?"
Then—the silence broke.
A voice echoed. Not in his ears… but directly inside his mind. Cold. Clear. Mechanical.
[Ding! Devta Bhakt System initializing…]
[User identification confirmed… Name: Suraj]
[Cosmic energy alignment successful… Beginning system binding process…]
Suraj's soul trembled. A surge of energy shot through his body, forcing him to sit upright.
Before his eyes—a translucent blue screen appeared in the air. Glowing words shimmered across it.
[Do you wish to challenge your weak fate?]
[Do you have the courage to become the protector of gods?]
His heartbeat nearly stopped. Was this real? The room was illuminated by the blue glow of the system screen.
Suraj's trembling hand slowly reached forward. For the first time in his life… he had a choice.
To remain a broken man. Or to become something the world would fear.
His eyes slowly hardened.
And then—he reached forward.