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Chapter Text

"Indra, King of Svarga!"

"You have forgotten your duties as the King of Svarga! I curse you and the entire Devloka!"

"Wealth, honor, luxury, divine power—everything you take pride in will be stripped away. You will also lose your reign over the three realms!"

The shocking roar reverberated through Svarga.

Boom! Dark clouds rolled in, and thunder rumbled ominously, like a massive serpent thrashing in a flood, foreshadowing the terror of the curse.

Indra jolted awake, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, his face etched with fatigue," I had that nightmare again!"

He surveyed the dim, deserted Svarga. The temple stood in ruins, its once-golden pillars now dull and rotting. The bright golden lanterns had turned into tarnished copper lamps. Even the glorious divine armor that adorned his body had rusted into tattered scrap metal.

All this was a result of Sage Durvasa's curse!

"Why am I so unfortunate?" he lamented. "I traveled through time in Indian mythology, and despite everything, I ended up as Indra, the King of Svarga."

"Indra... the unluckiest Deva!"

Indra rested his chin in one hand, sitting on a throne now reduced to a straw blanket, overwhelmed by melancholy.

In Indian mythology, Brahma is the creator of the universe, Vishnu is the preserver of Dharma in the world, and Shiva is the destroyer of the universe at the end of time. Together, they represent a cycle of reincarnation, eternal time, and Dharma, forming the Trimurti.

Indra and the other devas are descendants of Kashyapa, a son born from Brahma's mind and one of the Saptarishis.

The current depletion of Svarga is due to Sage Durvasa, an incarnation of Shiva, the God of Destruction. He is a great sage who possesses immense asceticism and spiritual power. The incident began when Shiva gifted the sage a garland of flowers, symbolizing good fortune.

Shiva instructed Durvasa that he could bestow the garland upon the most heroic god. Believing that Indra, the king of the Devas, deserved this honor, Durvasa traveled to Svarga, ready to present the garland to him.

However, upon arriving, Sage Durvasa found Svarga immersed in music and celebrations, with all the Devas indulging in their joy while relaxed on their Divine duties. This sight immediately ignited Durvasa's anger.

Furious, he sought out Indra.

When Indra saw Sage Durvasa approaching, he ordered his mount, the majestic white elephant Airavata, to catch the garland. Unfortunately, Airavata missed the catch, and the garland fell to the ground. In a further mishap, the elephant's foot slipped, and he accidentally stepped on the garland, crushing it beneath his massive weight.

This disrespectful treatment of the divine offering enraged Sage Durvasa even more. His eyes flashed with fury as he glared at Indra, who could feel the weight of the sage's anger bearing down upon him.

"How dare you treat my gift with such contempt!" Durvasa thundered, his voice echoing like a storm. "You will regret this insolence!"

Before Indra could respond, the sage raised his hand and pronounced a powerful curse: "You shall lose your divine power and the respect of the other Devas! Your throne will be threatened, and your reign will be challenged by those who once bowed before you!"

Indra's heart sank at the sage's words. He realized that this was not merely a slight; it was a dire warning that could change the course of his rule over Svarga. As Durvasa stormed away, Indra could only watch helplessly, knowing that the curse would soon take effect and bring chaos to the heavens

As a result of this curse, the Devas became weak and vulnerable, leading to their eventual struggles against Asurasas. Indra's divine power gradually diminished.

"The curse of Sage Durvasa is too powerful; the strength of all the Devas has been greatly reduced," he lamented. "I fear the asuras will attack Svarga soon! We must find a way to defend ourselves!"

Indra frowned in deep thought. Finally, he raised himself, stood up from the throne that had turned to stone, and slowly walked out of the palace.

Barroo—

A low, mournful cry echoed through the air. Airavata, the three-headed, six-tusked white elephant, stepped forward. He knew, lowered his head, and extended his trunk to Indra's feet, inviting him to climb onto his back.

"My poor little elephant! I forgot that you too were cursed by Sage Durvasa and can no longer fly. Later, I will take you to the human world, and I will ride you again!" Indra said, patting Airavata's trunk with a sigh.

He lamented having a mount that couldn't fly, fearing he might fall from Svarga! Airavata shook his trunk, his eyes glistening with tears, and nodded in agreement.

Indra then gazed far into the distance, across the endless expanse of Svarga, and set off toward the abode of the Sun. He had decided to seek out Surya, the sun god—his brother!

When Brahma created the world, he first gave birth to the four Kumaras, the Saptarishi (Seven Sages), Swayambhuva Manu, and Shatarupa from his mind. The daughter of Swayambhuva Manu and Shatarupa married Prajapati Daksha and bore him fifty daughters.

Daksha's eldest daughter, Sati, was married to Lord Shiva, while his second daughter, Aditi, and third daughter, Diti, were married to Sage Kashyapa, one of the seven great sages. Aditi gave birth to the Devas, also known as the Adityas, while Diti gave birth to the Asuras, referred to as the Daityas.

Indra and Surya were the sons of Kashyapa and Aditi. Indra's divine power had greatly diminished. Fortunately, all the Devas were in Svarga. He managed to reach the Sun Temple before his strength was entirely depleted.

The Sun Temple's brilliance once shone the brightest in Svarga, with gates that sparkled like jewels; now, however, it lay in darkness, resembling a house made of stone.

Many Gandharvas, who served as attendant Devas, sat under the eaves of the palace like beggars. Their once resplendent garments, woven with threads of gold and adorned with jewels, had become tattered and faded, reflecting their dire state. The vibrant colors that once symbolized their divine essence were now dulled, and their attire hung loosely on their frames, a stark contrast to their previous glory.

As the curse tightened its grip on Svarga, the Gandharvas lost their ability to play divine music. The ethereal melodies that once filled the heavens with joy and harmony were silenced, leaving a haunting emptiness in their wake. Without their music, the atmosphere grew heavy, and the celestial celebrations turned somber.

Indra took a glance around before stepping into the Sun Temple.

"Indra, you are here!"

Indra looked up to see a figure as dark as coal seated on a stone throne. He was tall, with a face as shadowy as the depths of a charred pot. His features were barely discernible, and he no longer bore the handsome visage of his former self.

It was Surya, the Sun God! This was a sign of a solar eclipse.

Whenever a significant change occurs in the universe, the glorious form of Surya, the Sun God, darkens and transforms into a small sunspot. Indra was not surprised by this; however...

He frowned slightly as he gazed at Surya, who sat motionless.

"Even though I am no longer the King of Svarga, I am still your brother. Why do you remain silent and refuse to speak?" Indra asked.

Surya was silent for a moment before replying, "I can't walk or even stand up."

Indra was momentarily speechless. It seemed absurd; this being, who illuminated the world every day, rode his sun chariot and flew through Svarga, claimed he could not walk. That simply couldn't be true.

"I'm still bound to drive the sun chariot. It's exhausting! What do you want from me?!" Surya complained.

Indra's expression grew serious. "The Devas have been cursed, and their powers have been greatly diminished. They are weak. The Asuras may soon attack Svarga!"

Both the Asuras and the Devas were descendants of Kashyapa. However, the Asuras dwelled in desolate lands, Patal, and had always resented the Devas for living in the prosperous Svarga. Now that the Devas were weakened, the Asuras would undoubtedly seize the opportunity to launch an invasion.

Surya's expression shifted, and panic swept across his dark face. "What should we do?" he exclaimed. "We don't even have the strength to raise our weapons! If the Asuras attack us, our entire army could be wiped out!"

Indra raised an eyebrow, contemplating their dire situation. He had little desire to resume the role of King of Svarga. Above all, he didn't want to become a prisoner. The thought of being slaughtered by the Asuras was unbearable!

The famous churning of the Cosmic Ocean (Samudra Manthan) in Indian Puranas had not yet begun, and the nectar of immortality, Amrita, had not yet fallen into the hands of the Devas. Those who had not tasted the Amrita would not achieve immortality. Dying now would truly mean death!

"I have a solution!" Indra declared, a flicker of determination crossing his face. He raised his hand and pointed at Surya, deep in thought. "Let us perform penance! We can train rigorously together!"

Surya nodded in agreement. "Hard penance could be the answer!"

In this world, suffering was abundant. If the Devas and Asuras endured more than their share of hardship, they would earn great merits, awakening powerful forces of penance. Such power could shake the very foundations of the world and lead to profound change even in the destiny of the world.

The Devas must bless the ascetics and grant them immense power to temper the force of asceticism and maintain the balance of the world. This type of boon stems from the fundamental laws of existence and can surpass even the power of the blessing of the one who is granting the boon itself.

At that moment, Indra raised his hand and pointed toward the Brahma world. "From now on, I, Indra, will perform penance in honor of Brahma, The Creator. I will refrain from drinking alcohol, sitting on a throne, wearing ornate divine robes, living in opulent temples, squandering wealth, being ostentatious, or riding a mount!"

"If I do not covet status, I will willingly relinquish the position of King of Svarga to anyone who asks for it," Indra declared solemnly.

Surya suddenly stood up, his eyes wide with shock. "You're serious?! This is the position of King of Svarga, and you're willing to undergo such rigorous training? Have you forgotten once spoken words can never be taken back!"

Indra couldn't help but feel a sense of joy. King of Svarga! Not even the bravest man will dare to claim that title! Because anybody in the universe who wants to prove that he is strongest comes to Svarga to claim his head.

---

Chapter Text

Indian Puranic stories follow a basic process. An Asura or Daitya utilizes his long life and endurance to do hard penance, which grants him boons from Brahma or Shiva. With these boons, he embarks on a conquest of the three realms. The Asura first conquers Patala Loka and Bhu Loka before challenging the King of Svarga to become the King of Triloka.

Boons represent the power of the laws of the universe and are significantly stronger than the elemental powers of the Devas. At times, even the Trimurti can be troubled by the might of these boons. Unless Lord Shiva chooses to destroy the world, the Trimurti cannot nullify them.

Indeed, unless the Trimurti turns the tables, they cannot break the boons once given. Destroying the world is not the Trimurti's intention unless the collapse of Karma. The only way to know the weaknesses of the boons is to reference the original boon itself and find loopholes in it.

Before identifying the weaknesses, Indra, the King of Svarga, serves as a testing ground for the power of these boons and the loopholes within them. He becomes the one who faces defeat, has to hide, or is simply imprisoned. An Asura king who has never defeated the King of Svarga is not considered a worthy ruler! Major asuras such as Nahusha, Bali, Meghnath, Vritra, and Banasura have all bested Indra. Numerous other instances will arise where sages, incarnations of Trimurti, children of Devas, curses, and boons will further trouble Indra.

"Whoever wants to be in such a miserable position can have it! Why does the king of Svarga get beaten in every Yuga"

Indra's eyes shifted slightly as he contemplated. He pursed his lips, coughed twice, and hurriedly said, "Now that we are cursed, I realize the position of King of Svarga is far too dangerous. My Strength and will are not strong enough, and my ascetic practice is insufficient."

Surya's expression was solemn as he clenched his fist against his chest, responding earnestly, "You weren't like this before. You often said, 'As Devas, it is natural for us to enjoy all the beauty this world offers!' What has changed?"

Surya couldn't believe it; his dark face reflected his incredulity. The once-arrogant King of Svarga, Indra, now admitted he wasn't strong enough—unbelievable!

"It's just that I've shed my childishness. I've come to realize the importance of Penance and understand the Dharma! Why should we wait for Asuras to ask for boons from Trimurti? Shouldn't we too start doing penance? " Indra declared, pressing his hands together in a show of piety while uttering nonsense.

He locked eyes with the stunned Surya and continued, "Look at me now; I am like a mortal. I've already begun my ascetic practice. I will accumulate some ascetic power first, and then I will ask for the Sahasrakavacha armor as a boon!"

Boons, as universal laws, grant far more power than the one who bestows them, according to the strength of the ascetic practice.

In the future, there is an Asura named Sahasrakavacha, the most devout believer of Brahma. He practiced asceticism dedicated to the Brahma and was blessed with a unique boon—Sahasrakavacha—which granted him near-invincibility. Each layer of his armor required a thousand years of penance to breach, making it nearly impossible for any warrior to defeat him in traditional battle.

To break this formidable armor, Vishnu sent forth two incarnations—Nara and Narayan. The two practiced asceticism for a thousand years, successfully breaking one layer of armor through their dedicated efforts. When one incarnation grew weary, the other would take over, allowing the first to rest and recover. This cycle continued for 999,000 years until Sahasrakavacha was left with only the final layer of armor. At that point, he decided to give up, escaping into the cycle of reincarnation, ultimately reborn as Karna, the son of the sun god.

This armor was top-quality equipment! Even in the future, Indra had to intervene, forcibly claiming the armor from Karna by exploiting a promise he had made. Defeating Karna without this intervention was nearly impossible!

However, the boons represent the law of the universe—the ultimate truth of this world! Even if some Asuras might misuse these boons, the Trimurti must grant them in recognition of their arduous penance. This is also the reason why Indra approached Surya directly. The Sahasrakavacha armor, renowned for its protective abilities, is among the most challenging boons to overcome.

Vishnu had to send not just one, but two incarnations to gradually weaken him. Additionally, Sahasrakavacha survived from the Satya Yuga to the Treta Yuga, making him possibly the longest-living asura whom Vishnu sought to defeat.

With the Sahasrakavacha armor, Indra felt confident enough to face the Asuras.

"You've changed!" Surya remarked seriously, raising his hand. "Once you complete your ascetic practice, Brahma-pita will grant you all the boons you desire."

Boom!

In that moment, Indra felt the suffering he had endured resonate within him, rising like a flame and becoming more vigorous. The power of asceticism surged once again! Indra's eyes lit up, realizing that his current state reflected his dedication to asceticism.

As the King of Svarga, the King of the Devas, and the Lord of the Three Realms, he now had lost everything. The ascetic power he gained from such a stark contrast was far stronger than what most could achieve in hundreds of years.

“Thank you, Surya!” Indra exclaimed, his voice filled with gratitude. “Now, I must take my leave! You should consider starting a penance as well.”

Surya nodded, a glimmer of determination in his eyes. “I will, Indra. May your journey be fruitful!”

In Svarga, the sea of clouds filled the air.

Not long after, Indra flew back to his palace, known as Amravati. Under the curse of the Sage Durvasa, it had transformed into a dilapidated thatched house. The once-brilliant attendant Devas, the Gandharvas, had also lost their radiant beauty, sitting at the entrance of the King of Svarga Temple like a group of mortals, basking in the sun.

"Sage Durvasa is truly powerful; he deserves to be the incarnation of Shiva!" Indra thought. "When my ascetic power is sufficient, I will curse him as well, so he can experience the taste of being cursed by others!"

Ascetic power can not only grant boons but also be used to unleash curses. The old man's curse is so potent that it affects all the Devas in Svarga—not only because he embodies Shiva, but also because his ascetic power is remarkably strong.

"Praise to Lord Indra!"  "Praise to Lord Indra!"

...

The voices of praise rose from the mouths of the Gandharvas as they stood up together in their tattered rags, chanting in unison. For a moment, Indra felt as though he were the leader of beggars.

Though the Gandharvas are descendants of Sage Kashyapa, they lack the elemental and magical powers of the Devas and Asuras. However, they excel in musical talent, beauty, and skills in dance and song. Indra and the other Devas had brought the Gandharvas to Svarga to serve among the divine.

"From today onward, the gates of Amravati will be closed, and I will perform penance. No one is allowed to enter!" Indra declared as he strode into the Temple of the King of Svarga. He waved his hand and spoke loudly.

Immediately, the surrounding Gandharvas obeyed the order, beginning to close the gates.

Boom! The Gandharvas pulled the gate shut with a resounding thud.

At that moment, only Indra remained in the dilapidated thatched house. He picked up a pile of hay from the ground and carried it to his makeshift bed. With a flourish, he loosened his grip, letting the hay scatter like petals from a goddess's hand. Then, slightly bending his knees, he jumped onto the haystack.

"Hey!" he exclaimed. "I'm going straight to bed!"

Indra lay back on the grass, stretched his legs, and hugged a handful of straw, rolling playfully in the pile. Though he felt a little tired, he was still able to make do.

He practiced asceticism by abstaining from Soma, avoiding the throne of King od Svarga, refraining from wearing elaborate divine garments, not residing in splendid palaces, refusing to squander wealth, and shunning prominence and luxury. He did not ride horses or covet status.

Under the curse of Sage Durvasa, he had been stripped of Soma, thrones, divine attire, wealth, and luxury, and his mount could no longer fly. Now, without the need for the position of King of Svarga, he felt naturally content and no longer desired status.

All of this aligned perfectly with the conditions for penance.

"Regardless, my power through penance is growing. I'll just wait until I awaken! First, I'll sleep for a thousand years!"

With that thought, Indra closed his eyes.

…

The Brahma Loka

At the highest level of Svarga, there exists a realm known as the Brahma Loka or Satya Loka—the dwelling place of the creator god, Brahma.

Bhu Loka is where humans, animals, yakshas, nagas, and other beings reside. The Patal Loka is the domain of the Asura tribes, while Svarga is home to many Devas, Gandharvas, Devis, and sages.

This realm is ethereal, with floating clouds and clear mists that envelop the surroundings. The air is holy and pure, and one can feel their soul being cleansed in its presence.

Two lotus flowers stand tall here, each supporting a human figure.

Brahma, the creator god, is depicted as an aged, wise figure adorned with a crown, a white beard, and rosy skin. Dressed in white robes, he holds the Vedas, a lotus, a kamandal, and a rosary in his eight arms, symbolizing creation, knowledge, and meditation.

Beside him is Sarasvati, his consort and the goddess of wisdom and music. Clad in white with a crescent moon on her forehead, she cradles a veena, embodying purity and intellect. Known as the goddess of eloquence and learning, Sarasvati's grace and wisdom complement Brahma's creative power, together balancing knowledge and creation in the cosmos.

From the Brahma Realm, one can gaze down upon the three realms and all that exists within them.

"What is Indra doing? Sleeping?"

The delicate brows of Brahma furrow slightly as he peers down. He quickly spots the disheveled Indra and can't help but inquire.

"No."

Brahma's beard stirs slightly, and the rising power of penance reflects in his eyes. Indra lies on his side, surrounded by the vibrant energy of penance that envelops him.

"He is performing penance!"

--

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Chapter Text

Brahma's ancient brows furrowed slightly, revealing his concern, "Indra is leaned in his penance now; Vishnu may be anxious!"

"Why is that?"

Goddess Saraswati tilted her head, a trace of doubt flashing in her bright eyes. Vishnu is the protector of the cosmic order and one of the Trimurti. Even if the King of Svarga is undergoing penance, it shouldn't concern Vishnu.

Brahma shook his head and exchanged a knowing glance with his wife, his eyes glinting with wisdom, "Don't forget the curse of Sage Durvasa!"

Upon hearing this, Saraswati, the goddess of wisdom, immediately grasped the situation. She gazed beyond space and time from the Brahmaloka to Vaikuntha. Sure enough, on the Serpent of Eternity, Sheshnaga, the divine bed that supports the Vishnu appeared to be missing a figure beside him.

"I understand now; his wife, Lakshmi, the goddess of wealth and auspiciousness, has vanished. The Sage cursed the gods to lose their wealth and luxury, and as a symbol of wealth, Lakshmi's absence also impacts Vishnu."

Goddess Saraswati clutched her veena and suddenly realized the full extent of the issue.

Brahma nodded in agreement, "The Trimurti cannot intervene in the universe directly, as this would disrupt the universe's balance or might destroy the universe. It is contrary to the responsibilities of a protector. He can only leave if there is sufficient Karma, which requires King Indra and the other devas to ask him to help them. But now the King of Svarga is deeply engrossed in his penance..."

"Vishnu must be quite distressed!"

A knowing smirk played at the edges of Saraswati's lips. "Why do I get the feeling you're gloating?"

Brahma's eyes flickered as he tried to feign innocence, but he was caught red-handed by his wife. "Gloating? Me? No, no, you must be mistaken!"

Caught by her discerning glance, Brahma finally turned his head, rolling his eyes as he looked away and muttered, "It's just… karma, after all."

…

Above the endless cosmic ocean lies the Kshira Sagara—the cosmic womb from which creation is constantly regenerated, maintained, and protected. It is also the home of one of Trimurti's Lord Vishnu Vaikuntha.

Serpent of Eternity, King Shesha is coiled, his immense body stretching billions of miles into the ocean. As a bed for Vishnu, the protector of the world, he bears the weight of his divine lord.

At this moment, Shesha, the king of the thousand-headed snakes, flicked his tongue in agitation. His tail stirred helplessly, creating huge waves, while his thousand heads anxiously turned to gaze at Lord Vishnu.

"Bhagavan, why did the Devi suddenly disappear?" Shesha inquired.

"Don't worry!"

Vishnu lay on his side atop the giant serpent, a faint smile gracing his lips. He was in no hurry—not at all! He understood that the goddess of wealth had been affected by the curse and had sunk into the Krishi Sagar. However, the curse was cast with the power of penance, which he could not break forcefully.

The only solution for now was to empower the Devas once more. As the protector of the world, he knew exactly how to restore their strength. He had already devised a plan, which he reviewed in his mind several times:

Churning the Kshira Sagara!

Affected by the Rishi Durvasa's curse, many treasures had returned to the Cosmic Ocean. He would summon the Devas and instruct them to churn the ocean to extract the divine treasures transformed by its power.

Indra, the King of Svarga, was currently engaged in penance; surely he would come to find him soon. No need to rush!

Vishnu understood Indra all too well. The king was proud and arrogant, outwardly brave yet inwardly paranoid of Asuras.

The most important thing to remember is that those who are accustomed to enjoying luxuries often find it unbearable to endure hardship. When Indra's struggles become too great to bear, he will naturally seek his help; all Vishnu has to do is wait.

Vishnu smiled, resting his chin on one hand, and slowly closed his eyes, lying on his side to sleep.

Seeing that Lord Vishnu remained unhurried, Shesha felt a sense of relief, "The Lord has a plan in his heart. Perhaps this is part of the Lord's Lila!"

Lila refers to divine play. All things and phenomena lie within the grasp of the Trimurti. The disappearance of the Devil Lakshmi may simply be the Lord's Lila, a playful interlude to bring about a reunion after a long separation.

As Shesha contemplated this, the anxious movements of his tail, which had been thrashing in the sea of milk, gradually settled into stillness.

...

Vishnu yawned slowly, his lotus-like eyes gradually opening to gaze at the vast ocean of milk. "Shesha! How many years have I slept?" he asked.

"Bhagwan, you have been sleeping for five hundred years!" Shesha lowered his snake head and replied.

To the gods, time holds little value, and five hundred years is nothing more than a brief nap. But…

"Five hundred years…" Vishnu blinked, musing to himself before asking, "Has Indra not come?"

"No!" Shesha's thousand heads shook in response. "Indra really hasn't come!"

Vishnu's surprise showed as his eyes narrowed slightly, and he immediately turned his gaze toward Svarga.

The world of Svarga appeared even more dilapidated! Once filled with pure holy energy, Svarga Loka was now on the brink of resembling the human realm, in ruins and decay. The Devas had also grown weaker.

Vishnu focused on the adobe of the King of Svarga, where a powerful surge of penance surged forth, manifesting as blue lightning. It painted a picture of vibrant life and abundant growth.

"He is truly performing penance for Brahama!" Vishnu remarked, his frown deepening. The period of rigorous penance could extend over hundreds or even thousands of years. Would his wife, Lakshmi, have to wait?

After a moment's contemplation, Vishnu relaxed his brow; he had devised a solution. If he informed Indra that he possessed a way to restore the devas' power, Indra would surely bring the Adityas to him, allowing Goddess Lakshmi to return.

"Garuda!" Vishnu called softly, summoning his faithful companion.

"Garuda! Garuda! Garuda!"

His faint voice resonated in the entire cosmic ocean, echoing in layers and spreading across the Trilokas for billions of miles, reaching far and wide.

Garuda! Divine Eagle! He is the son of Rishi Kashyapa and Vinata and is a loyal follower and Vahana of Vishnu!

"Bhagwan is calling me!" Garuda exclaimed, his eyes sparkling with excitement.

He flapped his enormous wings, stirring up a tempestuous wind that filled the sky with dark clouds as if an eternal night had descended upon the Triloka.

With a powerful beat of his wings, Garuda soared above the Cosmic Ocean, casting a vast shadow like a shroud of darkness. Amid the endless waves that roared around him, he spotted his Lord Vishnu.

"Pranam to Lord Vishnu!" Garuda clasped his hands together and bowed slightly, then raised his head in reverence to look up at his Lord.

With a warm smile, Vishnu sat upon the snake bed, gazing lovingly at his faithful follower. Unlike Brahma, whose followers were often Asuras—who would frequently turn their backs after completing their penance—Vishnu's devotees were characterized by their pure hearts and unwavering loyalty. Each of them remained steadfast, never straying from their devotion to him.

"Garuda go to Svarga and inform the devas that I have a way to lift their curse, ask them to come to the Vaikuntha to see me!" Vishnu instructed softly.

Garuda, lost in the joy of being in the presence of his Lord, initially failed to notice the absence of Goddess Lakshmi. After processing Vishnu's command, he quickly replied, "As you say, Bhagwan!"

As a golden eagle, Garuda was incredibly swift, able to navigate the three Lokas effortlessly, as if playing among trees.

Not long after, he spread his wings and arrived in Svarga. With a graceful transformation, Garuda took on the form of a human, adorned with two magnificent wings on his back.

His hair was tousled, adorned with a gold ring resting on his forehead. He had tied his black hair back, revealing a heroic visage, while his golden armor gleamed brightly.

Garuda gazed at Svarga in astonishment, questioning whether he had taken a wrong turn and ended up in a human village.

The once luminous and ethereal sea of clouds had transformed into putrid mud. The opulent palace had vanished, replaced by crumbling straw houses that seemed as if they could be blown away with a single flap of his wings.

The handsome faces of the Gandharvas, who typically served the gods, were now covered in dust, their skin rough and sallow.

"This is what Svarga has become! It's all Indra's fault!"

Garuda's realization hit him, and he clenched his fists, anger boiling within him. He was furious!

--

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Chapter Text

Garuda suppressed his anger, then opened and closed his eyes, clasped his hands together, and began to praise the names of the Devas.

"Pranam to Suryadev! Pranam to Agnidev! Pranam to Varundev!”
…

As Garuda's voice echoed through Svarga, pillars of light began to rise in many places. The beams shot straight into the sky and then fell before Garuda, revealing the true forms of the Devas. Surya, Agni, Varuna, Vayu, Soma, and other devas and Gandharavas arrived one after another to greet Garuda.

However, Indra was nowhere to be seen.

Garuda lowered his hands, his expression stern, and his keen eagle eyes scanned the assembly of Devas. "I have been sent by the Bhagwan Vishnu to invite all devas to meet with Him. Where is the King of Svarga?"

The Devas exchanged uncertain glances. Finally, Surya spoke up, "Indra is currently engaged in penance. He has expressed the intention to strengthen his resolve through intense penance. Yet, each time he’s been ready, his duties and concerns about asuras have kept him from fully committing.”

Garuda frowned at this news. He glanced at the palace of the King of Svarga, then stepped forward with a hum of discontent. "This is the Lord Vishnu’s invitation, yet Indra chooses to ignore it. His lack of respect for the Lord has led to the current state of Svarga."

None of the Devas spoke; silence fell over the gathering. As brothers, they understood each other's virtues well. Indra, in his eagerness to attend the assembly in Svarga, had neglected Rishis Durvasa’s divine Garland. Under similar circumstances, they knew they might have acted the same way.

Arrogance was a prerogative of the Devas, and they felt it should not be too harshly criticized. Besides, if they encounter trouble in the future, it would be easier for everyone to discuss matters openly.

"Don't worry, we can wait!" said Surya, the sun Deva.

"Exactly! Penance and meditation are the dharma of the universe, and everyone must respect that!" Soma, the Deva of the moon, nodded in agreement.

As soon as these two spoke, the other Devas joined in, expressing their support in not disturbing Indra’s penance.

"That's true. I agree. Let's wait a little longer!" said Varunadev.

"Me too!" Vayuadev, clenching his fist.

Garuda looked at the Devas with a frown. Despite their agreement, he couldn't shake his unease. He sighed and sat cross-legged on the ground. "Then let's wait a little longer—just a little while longer!"

…

Time flew by in Svarga, where there was no distinction between day and night; moments slipped away like water.

Suddenly, a deafening thunderclap echoed through Svarga. Garuda's eyes snapped open, and his previously joyful expression darkened with anger. During his meditation, he had been dreaming of Lord Vishnu, and just as he was about to hear the Lord's words, the thunder disrupted his thoughts and jolted him awake.

"Is there no peace left in Svarga?!" Garuda exclaimed, suppressing his anger. He stood up and glanced around.

As he surveyed the other Devas, he noticed they were either lying down or exhausted. Their garments were tattered and worn, the glory of the Devas faded, and the divine fragrance that once surrounded them had vanished completely.

The curse was worsening!

"How much time have we been waiting for Indra now?" Garuda exclaimed in shock. He realized he had meditated for too long and quickly counted the years with his fingers.

"Two hundred and fifty years!" he shouted, wide-eyed.

The surrounding Devas stirred from their meditative states, immediately aware of their dire circumstances. They turned their gazes to the Adobe of the King of Svarga, where the power of penance was being unleashed. This energy transformed into thunder and lightning that shot out in all directions, filling Svarga with rumbling sounds.

The thunder had come from here!

"Indra, you've truly angered me!" Garuda declared. "If it weren't for your penance, I wouldn't have delayed the Lord's command!"

At that moment, Garuda could focus on nothing else. He flapped his wings and angrily soared toward the King's Palace. The other Devas exchanged worried glances, sensing something was amiss, and hurriedly chased after him.

In front of the King's Palace, Garuda's massive wings blotted out the sun, instantly plunging the Svarga into darkness. A fierce storm of wind whipped toward the shrine, which had been reduced to a thatched house. The surrounding Gandharvas were so terrified that they crawled on the ground, scrambling behind the other Devas.

Boom!

The dark storm obscured the sky and blocked the sun, but it halted just before the thatched house. Indescribable, invisible thunder and lightning erupted, shooting upward into the heavens. The roar of the tempest sounded like the cries of countless dragons and serpents, shattering the oppressive black winds in an instant.

"I have come on the command of Lord Vishnu. Indra, come out at once! I know you are inside!" Garuda bellowed. "You dared to offend Sage Durvasa; now dare to face me!"

With each flap of his wings, Garuda unleashed a whirlwind of divine power, causing the entire Svarga to tremble.

"Stop this at once!" the assembly of Devas shouted, their faces drawn in concern. They clung to one another, pooling their remaining divine energy to form a protective shield against Garuda's tempestuous winds.

"If you have something to say, please do so quickly! We can hardly withstand this any longer!" the Suryadev exclaimed, swaying as he raised his hands in a desperate gesture.

At that moment, the divine power shield was crumbling. The upheaval in Svarga quickly captured the attention of countless beings.

In the Brahmaloka, Brahma, and Goddess Sarasvati sat cross-legged on lotus flowers, gazing down at the commotion below. Above the Cosmic Ocean, Vishnu felt the divine wheel spinning in his hand and looked in the direction of Svarga. Meanwhile, atop Mount Kailasha, Shiva slowly opened his eyes.

Boom!

The storm roared, and the entire dipliated palace was lifted by the tempest, revealing Indra lying on his side, deep in meditation.

"Indra!" Garuda roared once more, the wind howling in response.

However, filtered through the power of penance, the storm's fury transformed into a gentle breeze that caressed Indra's face, bringing with it a refreshing coolness.

Ah hoo~

Indra yawned slowly, scratching his face as he stirred. He swayed and sat up cross-legged, his eyes still heavy with sleep. For a moment, he beheld the swirling black hurricane in the sky.

"Um?" Indra tilted his head and rubbed his eyes, gradually bringing his surroundings into focus. High winds, squalls, and hurricanes filled the air!

And there was Garuda, the half-eagle half-human, staring intently at him!

"Garuda!" Indra murmured, recognition dawning.

"Indra, Lord Vishnu has called for you, yet you choose to ignore him for two hundred fifty years. This disrespect cannot go unchallenged," Garuda said, descending menacingly.

The other Devas quickly stepped forward to intervene. Indra's white elephant, Airavata, charged forward with long strides, curling his trunk and spraying a torrent of water into the sky as he rushed toward Garuda.

Garuda did not flinch; instead, he pressed forward, raising his hand to confront the oncoming threat. But Garuda's hand had not yet touched Airavata.

Uh-huh!

The massive shadow of Airavata suddenly vanished. Indra was taken aback and began to look around.

Where is the elephant? Where is my elephant? How can he just disappear?!

As the Devas stood in confusion, Soma, the Deva of the moon, who was standing next to Garuda, suddenly screamed. His skin became translucent, and then he completely disappeared from Svarga.

Uh-huh!

"Ah?" Garuda exclaimed, staring at his hands in astonishment before glancing around and noticing the horror etched on everyone else's faces.

"Garuda, you can't just kill the Devas by touching whoever you want!" Suryadev cautioned, taking a couple of steps back and eyeing Garuda warily.

The other Devas looked equally suspicious.

"I didn't touch them! I swear!" Garuda quickly retracted his hand, insisting.

Indra blinked and finally pieced it together.

"Airavata and Soma, the Deva of wine and the moon—both are symbols of wealth and auspiciousness. Just as the Goddess of wealth, Lakshmi vanished, so too did they, and they've all fallen into the cosmic ocean."

---

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Chapter Text

"The King of Svarga is right; Soma must be in the Cosmic Ocean," Varunadev stated.

Vayudev and Agnidev nodded in agreement.

"In the Kshira Sagara, Goddess Lakshmi is also present. Our divine power is waning, and if this continues, we may not even have the strength to descend from Svarga," Suryadev lamented, his mouth agape with helplessness.

Indra glanced at Surya. At that moment, Surya's face was not only dark but the whites of his eyes and teeth had also lost their luster, turning an ominous shade. No one could be as dark as he was at that moment!

Garuda, brimming with anger, spread his wings wide, his feathers fluffed up as he accused, "If you, King of Svarga, hadn't delayed me with your penance, we would have met Lord Vishnu by now and sought a solution. Instead, Soma has vanished, and Svarga is in disarray!"

"So what?" Indra retorted, his expression turning icy.

Garuda seemed intent on stirring trouble for him!

"What do you mean, 'so what'?" Garuda pressed.  "Is this your excuse for destroying my palace?"

"That's trivial compared to your disrespect towards the Lord. I was sent with the summons of Lord Vishnu and he has been waiting here for ages, yet you've ignored it completely, lost in your penance and meditation."

Garuda fixed his gaze on Indra, the King of Svarga, his demeanor as proud as an eagle soaring through the sky. He rebuked Indra bluntly, his anger intensifying with each passing moment. After enduring great effort to reach Svarga, he found it in ruins. The devas had lost their power, and everything had withered away.

Waiting in vain, he realized that fate had abandoned them!

"Indra, you have committed a heinous crime!" Garuda declared, his wings stirring the air and creating swirling hurricanes. Suddenly, he opened his right hand, and a flash of golden light revealed a massive sledgehammer that materialized in his grip. He strode toward Indra, fury radiating from him.

Indra's eyes widened as he stared at Garuda. This guy… is going to hit me! He was momentarily stunned.

The other devas gasped, their mouths agape, too frightened to move.

Indra's focus remained fixed on Garuda, who was striding forward with the golden sledgehammer raised high, the hammer's shadow looming ominously over his head.

Gulp!

Indra swallowed hard. After years of dedicated training, he certainly didn't want to be on the receiving end of a beating. He quickly resolved to strike first!

However, he found himself powerless to fight, unable even to summon his weapons. There was only one option left.

"Garuda!" Indra shouted, attempting to save face. He pointed a finger at Garuda, his voice ringing out.

"Garuda! Garuda! Garuda!"

As he called out, the power of his penance surged, sending reverberations throughout Svarga. The air crackled with deafening thunder, and lightning rolled through the clouds.

Boom! Boom!

The entire Svarga trembled as the power of the Svarga King, honed through hundreds of years of rigorous training, erupted, sending shockwaves throughout the realm.

"There can be no two suns in the sky, and there can be no two Kings in a kingdom!" Indra proclaimed. "There is only one sun in this world, only one monarch in a nation, and only one King in Svarga—me, Indra! This is the righteous law of the universe!"

Indra's words momentarily froze Garuda in his tracks.

With unwavering focus, Indra met Garuda's gaze, his voice deepening. "We share the same father, Kashyapa! You are a devoted follower of Lord Vishnu, living close to Him, and enjoying a good and prosperous life. The Lord protects you; you do not need a brother like me. Yet, you summon me on the Lord's behalf only to say, 'Indra, you have committed a great sin.'"

"You show me no respect! You regard me neither as your brother nor as a friend! You won't even show respect to the King of Svarga!"

"Now, not only do you disturb my penance, but you also wish to strike your brother. Your arrogance and anger have clouded your judgment; you have violated the Dharma. I am compelled to curse you!"

"Garuda!" Indra shouted.

At that moment, the power of his penance transformed into a radiant beam of light, piercing through Svarga and into the human world. The light shone down into the Ganges River, causing the waters to boil.

Suddenly, the goddess Ganges emerged from the river, manifesting as a beautiful woman with four arms.

She wore a white lotus flower atop her head and adorned her body with gold ornaments. Her face resembled white jade, and her neck was as pure as snow. In one hand, she held a pristine vase, while the other grasped a lotus flower; her remaining two hands were clasped together in a gesture of reverence.

"Pranam Indradev, the King of Svarga!" the goddess Ganges exclaimed, gazing at the waters of the Ganges rushing toward Svarga. As a holy river, cursing with its water would yield even greater effects!

With a rush of power, the Ganges water traversed the void, crossing countless distances before appearing in Svarga, cascading over Garuda.

As soon as the Ganges water fell, it drenched Garuda completely. The water clung to his wings, and no matter how hard he shook, he couldn't shake it off—he resembled a drowned rat.

…

"Not good! This is the entanglement of Karma, and Indra is about to curse him!"

Vishnu, who hovered high above the Cosmic Ocean, suddenly felt a shift in the Svarga. His calm expression turned serious as he realized something was amiss.

At the top of Kailash Mountain, Lord Shiva sat in meditation. His long hair hung down, and the third eye between his eyebrows was closed. Clad in tiger skin, he sat on a large stone with one leg slightly bent and the other leg relaxed against the ground. Beside him stood his trident, a symbol of his power.

Nandi, the sacred bull and Lord Shiva's mount watched him attentively, his short, low-hanging ears swaying gently.

"Garuda seems to be in trouble!" Nandi spoke up.

"Garuda has sinned arrogance and disturbed the ascetic, one should never disturb those who are in Dhayna. Indra is acting under dharma!" Shiva replied, slowly closing his eyes once more.

Nandi was taken aback for a moment, then nodded slowly, reminding himself to exercise caution in the future.

In the Brahma world, Brahma opened his eyes wide, taking in the unfolding scene. It was rare for the King of Svarga to engage in rigorous practice, and even rarer for him to issue a curse. The gods in Svarga were busy with music and dance, hardly dedicating themselves to meditation, not even in this lifetime.

If Indra were to call out a curse, the situation could spiral out of control! Brahma thought to himself and promptly summoned someone to go to Svarga.

…

"Garuda!!!"

At the sound of Indra's echoing voice, Garuda's expression shifted to one of panic as he stared at the King of Svarga in disbelief. The other gods looked on in shock. After hundreds of years apart, the King of Svarga had become angry!

Taking a deep breath to steady himself, Garuda, proud as a golden-winged roc, refused to fear any curse.

"Curse me if you must; I won't flinch before anyone's wrath! Especially not yours, Indra!" he declared, summoning his courage.

Indra narrowed his eyes, observing Garuda intently. A sudden smile crept across his face as he spoke slowly, enunciating each word.

"I curse you!"

"You will never see Lord Vishnu again, be it day, night, or twilight. Your Yajana as a believer will not reach the Lord through the sacrificial fire, and your hymns will not enter His ears!"

"You will never sense His presence! You will receive no response from the Lord!"

The air thickened with the weight of the words, resonating powerfully.

Boom!

Garuda felt as if he had been struck by lightning!

---

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---

Dhyana is derived from the root "dhyai," which means "to think" or "contemplate," Dhyana represents a profound, focused state of mind where one moves beyond regular thought processes to experience an intense state of concentration and inner stillness.

Yajna means "worship," or "offering," and is one of the most ancient and significant rituals in Hinduism, with roots also in Vedic, Jain, and Buddhist traditions.

Chapter Text

The massive golden hammer, forged from the cursed words of Indra, fell on Garuda's head with a heavy thud, resonating through the Svarga.

Boom!

Garuda's body trembled violently, pain etched across his face. He staggered back, raising his hand to cover his left chest. Within him, hot blood surged as his heart twisted painfully, a severe cramping sensation overwhelming him as if he had lost something precious. Unable to contain himself, tears streamed down his face.

It hurts!

It hurts so much!

The image of Vishnu, which had once lain comfortably in his heart, suddenly transformed into a golden light and vanished without a trace. The Lord's whisper faded from his ears, the fragrance of divinity disappeared from his senses, and the glorious figure of Vishnu was no longer visible to his eyes. Even in his mind, the faint, doting smile of the Lord began to dissipate.

"Lord! Lord!"

"Where are you, Bhagwan?!"

Garuda's panic surged as he frantically scanned his surroundings, exclaiming in desperation. The Devas fell silent, their expressions filled with fear as they held their breath in astonishment.

What a vicious and powerful curse! For believers, losing their faith felt like losing their very lives. No! It was even more terrifying than the loss of life!

Garuda was anxious and restless, his wings flapping erratically behind him, feathers cascading to the ground. In his panic, he clasped his hands together and closed his eyes to offer Prayers to the Lord.

" Om Namo Bhagavate Vasudevaya!"

…

The sounds of prayers continued to flow from Garuda's mouth, but he felt no response.

Alas…

At that moment, Agni, the God of Fire, shook his head and sighed. Drawing upon his remaining divine power, he ignited his hands, holding up a ball of brilliant red flame. From this flame emanated thousands of radiant hues, encompassing the Svarga, the earth, and all the beings within, both divine and mortal.

Suddenly, the flames flickered, moving like the wind. Garuda's praying figure, hands clasped together, materialized within the flames, his fervent prayers echoing for what felt like an eternity.

Yajna Agni!

For the power of faith in Yajna to reach the Devas, it must pass through the sacred fire. This Yajna Agni bridges the Svarga Loka and the Bhu Loka, connecting the human and divine realms, and transmitting faith to the Devas.

As the God of Fire, Agni also embodies the essence of Yajna Agni; thus, the Yajni Agni is under his control and rests in his hands.

"Garuda," Agni spoke in a deep voice, "your prayers resonate within this Yajna Agni, but they have not reached Lord Vishnu. It appears the curse has taken effect, and you will never see Lord Vishnu again!"

Hearing this, Garuda's face fell with sadness, and his clasped palms slowly dropped. Anger surged within him, reflecting a complex mix of sorrow and rage as his sharp eagle eyes locked onto the Emperor of Svarga.

At that moment, a fierce wind swirled around Garuda, and an overwhelming aura radiated from his being.

"Indra, how truly vicious you are! You interfere with a devotee's path to my bhagwan—how can you consider yourself worthy to be the King of Svarga?" Garuda's voice was tight with anger, his words carrying a powerful intensity.

"And now that you recognize your mistake, weren't just as vicious as me in disrupting my penance?" he continued. "Did you forget, Once Brahma, captivated by his creation, Shatarupa, grew a fifth head just to gaze upon her wherever she went? His pride swelled as he claimed supremacy as the ultimate Creator, upsetting the cosmic order. To curb this unchecked arrogance, Lord Shiva manifested as Bhairava, his most fearsome form, to humble Brahma."

"In his wrath, Bhairava severed Brahma's fifth head, restoring cosmic balance and ending Brahma's pride. Yet, by committing Brahmahatya—the sin of slaying a Brahmin—even Bhairava faced consequences. To atone, he journeyed to Varanasi and bathed in the sacred Ganga. Only then was he freed of this sin, and Brahma's skull fell into the river, marking the end of his arrogance."

"From that moment, Brahma was forbidden from receiving sacred offerings by Lord Shiva. Witnessing this, Brahma's son Daksha grew bitter, vowing never to offer his prayers and Sacred Offerings to Lord Shiva. This grudge planted the seeds for the tragedy of Devi Sati, Daksha's daughter and Shiva's beloved wife. Her unwavering loyalty to Shiva led to her self-sacrifice, casting a lasting shadow upon their family."

"All of this is part of Lord Shiva's divine play. As the Lord of Innocence, he provides a warning to the world: arrogance disrupts harmony. It is a reminder from the Trimurti and to all beings."

"Not only have you disturbed my penance, but you've turned against your kin, disregarding the Lord's command to honor us with an invitation. And now, you raise your weapon against me—your own brother. Such an act is no minor transgression."

He paused, his gaze steady. "Pride as lord Vishnu's vahana has led you astray, blinding you to the path of virtue. You have become lost, consumed by an arrogance that shadows even your devotion."

Indra opened his eyes wide, staring at Garuda as thunder and fire blazed within them. He raised his arms, ready to engage in a tussle with Garuda.

Boom!

In Svarga, a distant echo reverberated as lightning crashed like a dragon and a serpent danced wildly, illuminating Indra's face and sending forth bursts of deafening thunder to bolster his resolve.

Though he might not have the strength to win a fight right now, he was determined to maintain the moral high ground, even if it meant conceding.

"You… you… you…" Garuda stammered, his chest heaving with rage. His face flushed red as he pointed accusingly at Indra, momentarily at a loss for words.

Among the Trimurti, Lord Brahma originally had four heads, each representing one of the four Vedas. However, a fifth head emerged, which he used to gaze upon Shatarupa, a form of his creation. This caused Lord Shiva to become angry, as he witnessed the creator himself becoming enamored with his creation. Unable to tolerate this any longer, Shiva took action against Brahma's fifth head in his avatar.

This move infuriated Daksha, the son of Brahma. As the Prajapati, through whom most life in the world is born, he ordered all creatures not to pray to Lord Shiva. Sati, the reincarnation of Lord Shiva's feminine power, was now Daksha's daughter. Caught between her husband Shiva and her father Daksha, Sati ultimately set herself ablaze and died.

Garuda was well aware of this story.

"Damn Indra! Are you comparing me to Daksha?" he thought angrily.

In the end, Daksha's head was removed for his arrogance and replaced with a sheep's head. The outcome was quite dire! Garuda gasped, feeling a mix of grievance and fury. He wanted to retort loudly but found himself at a loss for words.

Garuda clenched his fists, his expression a mix of indignation and disbelief. "How could you, Indra? You've twisted the truth to turn me into a scapegoat!"

At that moment, a figure suddenly appeared in Svarga, letting out a long sigh.

"Well! Looks like I'm a bit late!" Brihaspati stepped forward, his demeanor thoughtful.

His black hair fell to his shoulders, and his complexion glowed like golden wheat. Dressed in a long golden shawl over a white dhoti, he exuded elegance and uniqueness. He was Rishi Brihaspati, the teacher of the Devas, one of the Navagrahas (Jupiter), and the son of Sage Angiras. Renowned for his proficiency in various incantations, chants, and sacrificial rituals, he served as an advisor to the Devas, including Indra, and held the esteemed title of their spiritual teacher.

"Pranam to the divine teacher!"

"Pranam to the divine teacher!"

"Pranam, Rishi Brihaspati!"

All the Devas saluted and welcomed their teacher. The Brihaspati clasped his hands together, bowed slightly, and said, "Pranam, Devas!"

His gaze then fell on Indra and Garuda, who appeared menacing and clearly at odds with one another. A slight frown creased his brow, revealing his concern. Having received an order from Brahma, he had come to mediate the conflict between Indra and Garuda. With the Devas losing their power and chaos reigning, there could be no civil war at this critical time.

"Indra! Can you take back the curse on Garuda?" Rishi Brihaspati asked after a moment's thought, addressing his student.

As the teacher of the Devas, he was the most suitable person to mediate this conflict. It would be more effective to discuss it calmly.

Indra maintained a calm demeanor, chuckling softly. "As we all know, once a curse is issued, it cannot be taken back," he replied.

"But conditions can be added to the original curse..." Brihaspati countered earnestly.

Once a curse issued by the power of penance is invoked, it cannot be altered. However, it's akin to writing code; conditions can be added before the original curse takes effect. This, too, requires the penance power of the one who issued the curse.

"This will consume my hard-earned energy!" Indra's tone suddenly faltered before he continued with a laugh, "However, it's not out of reach. He must sincerely apologize to me!"

"Moreover, to temper his arrogance and remind him of his duty to uphold the righteous Dharma, I want him to remember our bond as brothers. In the future, whenever he lays eyes on me, he must pranam to me three times!"

Chapter Text

"Unthinkable! Totally out of the question! Humph! How dare you question my resolve!"

Garuda snorted dismissively, holding his head high and showing no hint of fear. He stepped back two paces, his gaze fixed on Indra with disbelief. The proud Garuda would never lower himself to bow before Indra, no matter the situation!

"I will find a way to break the curse myself!"

With that declaration, Garuda spread his immense wings and soared into the sky, his powerful wings propelling him swiftly away from Svarga.

"Alas…"

Rishi Brihaspati watched Garuda's retreating figure, shaking his head with a long sigh. If Garuda left like this, his mission to promote peace would remain unfulfilled.

Now he could only advise Indra and the other Devas to go to Vaikuntha to seek Lord Vishnu's help.

"Indra, devas, and the Asuras have lost your powers. Devi Lakshmi has also vanished from Lord Vishnu's side. This is detrimental to the universe's development. You must meet the Lord Vishnu at once…" Rishi Brihaspati urged sincerely.

Indra was surprised by Rishi Brihaspati's words.

"Wait!"

The light in his eyes flickered as he raised his hand. "Teacher, what did you just say?"

"You must hurry to meet Lord Vishnu at once!" Rishi Brihaspati replied, his brow furrowed in confusion.

"No, the sentence before that."

"Is this detrimental to the development of the Universe?"

"No, say another sentence!"

Indra waved his hand and pressed on.

Hearing this, Rishi Brihaspati blinked in surprise. "The Devas and Asuras have also lost their power?!"

Snap!

Indra clapped his hands, the sound sharp and crisp. His eyes sparkled with a sudden realization as he murmured, "Since the Asuras have lost their power, they probably won't attack Svarga. In that case, I don't have to worry too much."

Indra felt more at ease but he didn't dare to let his guard down. He knew that this era was one of explosive growth for all living beings and the universe itself. The Universe brimmed with vitality, and countless races and creatures were competing for dominance.

Vishnu, the protector of the universe, had manifested his first incarnation, Matsya, to save Manu, the progenitor of humanity, from a great flood that threatened to engulf the entire Bhuloka (Earth).

Manu, forewarned by Matsya of the impending flood, constructs an ark to preserve the seeds of all plants and the saplings of various life forms. When the deluge arrives, Matsya guides the boat through the tumultuous waters, ensuring the survival of Manu. The second incarnation, the tortoise Kurma, had yet to appear, as the Devas and Asuras had not yet begun churning the Kshira Sagara. The remaining incarnations after that had never materialized!

"The current Asura King of Pataloka should be Hiranyaksha! I wonder if his penance has been completed. He possessed the power to lift the entire Earth, and he assaulted the defenseless Bhumi, pulling her deep beneath the Cosmic Ocean. Vishnu assumed the avatar of a wild boar (Varaha) to rescue the goddess. When Hiranyaksha attempted to obstruct him, Vishnu killed him. Perhaps he could fight better than I can," Indra thought.

There was a little friction between the Devas and Asuras, though it was limited to small-scale skirmishes between their subordinates. The strongest Devas had never engaged in direct combat with the Asura King. Even Indra could not ascertain the true strength of the Hiranyaksha.

As the son of Rishi Kashyapa, Hiranyaksha's power was not inferior to Devas in terms of talent. If he practiced diligently and after receiving the boons from Brahma, he might surprise them.

"I still have to obtain the boon first!"

"It's all Garuda's fault for wasting all my hard work!"

Indra felt secretly frustrated. He had once squatted in Svarga, practicing diligently, only for this troublemaker to disturb him. It was truly irritating.

"Indra!"

Seeing Indra lost in thought, Rishi Brihaspati spoke up, concern etched on his face. "What's wrong? Are you worried about the Asuras?"

Indra nodded and cast a furtive glance upwards toward Brahmaloka, where Brahma resided. He was genuinely concerned and needed to find a way to obtain the Sahraskavacha. However, he knew his current level of penance was inadequate. Indra feared that without sufficient aesthetic power, Brahma would be unable to grant him the divine armor, which required a greater depth of asceticism to imbue it with the necessary abilities. It appeared that he would have to adjust his expectations.

"Truly!" Indra continued, "The current Asura King, Hiranyaksha, is my half-brother, and I do not wish for Asuras to come to Svarga and history has to witness brothers fighting one another for a throne."

"Garuda forced my hand, which is why I had to curse him. I hope it can humble his arrogance."

"As for the Asuras, if they do decide to attack Svarga, I hope they will bear the consequences of their actions. If the burden of Dharma and Throne of Svarga falls on them, which may awaken the truth, goodness, and beauty within the Asuras."

Indra feigned sadness, though his hope was for something different. Let's first seek the Boons!

With that thought, Indra shifted his tone, clasping his hands together as he addressed Brahma.
"Om Brahma Devya Namah!"

In an instant, a radiant light enveloped the space, and Brahma manifested before Indra, his four faces glowing with divine wisdom. He regarded Indra with a mixture of benevolence and authority.

"Indra, my child, your devotion is commendable," Brahma spoke, his voice resonating like thunder across the heavens. "What do you seek from me?"

"Brahma-pita I sincerely hope that you can bless me with a divine armor," Indra replied earnestly. "This armor should have one hundred layers, each requiring a thousand years of ascetic power to destroy. Let me be worthy of its strength," he spoke solemnly.

He did not ask for the original Sahasrakavacha; instead, he only sought a hundred layers and requested the removal of the ability to kill the enemy with each shattered layer.

Brahma considered Indra's request, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. "Your wish is noble, but your penance is not yet sufficient. Only with greater devotion can this armor be forged," he stated, his gaze unwavering.

Upon hearing this, the surrounding Devas couldn't help but display expressions of surprise, astonishment, and gratitude. The Rishi Brihaspati opened his eyes wide in disbelief, studying Indra from head to toe as if seeing him anew. Is this still the Indra I knew, the one who was never a troublemaker?

"I thought Indra was as arrogant as I am, but I didn't expect him to show such kindness. The last time he approached me, it was to ask for penance to attain the Sun Deva Armor for this very purpose!" Suryadev mused to himself.

"Pranam to Brahma-pita, the Creator of the Universe!" Agni Deva Fire, couldn't help but feel a surge of reverence as he clasped his hands together. The surrounding Varunadeva, Vayudeva, Gandharvas, and Goddesses immediately echoed sentiments of respect.

"Pranam to Brahma, the Creator of the Universe!"

At that moment, Brahma's countenance radiated with streams of light, his divinity towering like a dream. It was as if the laws of Svarga and the earth had converged to bless him, transporting him into a unique realm of unity between Brahman and the self.

Brahma slowly raised his right hand, positioning it in front of him as he pointed his palm at Indra.

"I will grant you the Golden Sahasrakavacha!"

"This armor will be forged with the power of your ascetic practice. For every thousand years of ascetic effort you achieve, a layer of armor can be constructed. It's offensive and defensive and efficacy will be determined entirely by you."

"As you wish!"

As soon as the words left his lips, a brilliant golden light surged from the palm of Brahma.
Swish!

The golden light floated gracefully before settling onto Indra. Suddenly, a dark golden armor enveloped him. The armor shimmered with a rich blend of gold and color, intricately engraved with images of the sun and stars, intertwined with shapes of thunder and lightning—symbols of the bond between Brahma and Indra.

Indra's eyes sparkled with excitement. This was not the Sahasrakavacha he had originally requested; in many ways, it was even more valuable. This Golden Sahasrakavacha was a piece of growth-type equipment!

Chapter Text

The Sahasrakavacha consists of a thousand layers, each requiring thousands of years of hard work to penetrate. Except for the intervention of the Trimurti, no one in the Triloka can break this armor. However, the divine armor he possesses, though not as formidable as the Sahasrakavacha, can be developed according to his wishes, allowing him to grow and evolve through the power of penance.

"Good!" Indra felt a sense of calm wash over him. Although this piece was not a complete Sahasrakavacha, it aligned more closely with his thoughts.

Today, very few Asuras are dedicated to rigorous penance. It was only after the brothers Hiranyaksha and Hiranyakashipu relied on Brahma's blessings to wreak havoc upon the Trilokas and defeat the Devas that many Asuras recognized the power of penance and began seeking Brahma's blessings for themselves.

"I'm truly grateful to you, Pita Brahma," Indra expressed.

Brahma smiled, returning the sentiment with his hands clasped together. With a gentle nod, he began to fade from view, his presence gradually dissipating like morning mist.

At that moment, the priest-rishi Brihaspati was also moved; his frown softened, revealing a look of relief as he witnessed his student's growth.

Indra had grown! His patience and teachings had finally borne fruit!

…

Brahmaloka

Brahma had just returned from Svarga and observed from his realm. His four faces were slightly tilted, and his eyes flickered as he gazed down at the unfolding events below.

"It is not easy for Indra to attain such a vision for the future!" Brahma thought, feeling a twinge of surprise.

Hearing this, Devi Saraswati nodded and remarked, "He would do whatever it took to remain as the King of Svarga!"

"Indeed, that's what the King of Svarga embodies," he continued. "This position represents the King of the Devas, the highest status possible, the never-ending luxury, and boundless well-being. However, it also breeds endless arrogance. Even the humblest believer who ascends this throne may develop a sense of pride and a fear of losing his position as King of Svarga."

Brahma contemplated this, noting that Indra seemed to be handling his responsibilities quite well now. The only issue was that Vishnu's vahana, Garuda, had been cursed.

Yet, the King of Svarga had angered the Trimurti more than once. It was usually Shiva who he angered. Despite threatening to kill Indra, Shiva ultimately forgave him after Indra expressed his remorse. This exemplified the blessings of being the King of Svarga—if one is willing to repent, discussions can always resume.

Indra had repented this time, but would he dare to do so again? Vishnu would likely understand the situation. After all, it was Garuda who had erred first this time, so a minor punishment should not pose a problem.

…

Above Vaikuntha

Vishnu lay on his side on the back of Sheshanaga, Sudarshana Chakra on his finger. His head was tilted to one side, a melancholy look gracing his face. Rays of golden light floated down from the sky, enveloping him and merging into his being.

This was the power Vishnu had once bestowed upon Garuda. Devotees who dedicate themselves to the Lord Vishnu and worship him with pure intentions can gain infinite favor and protection.

But now...

The power that had been left within Garuda was returning!

"My poor devotee has suffered this disaster because of me. Garuda's pride may require me to send an incarnation to guide him. The top priority now is the churning of the Kshira Sagara. For the moment, Garuda must wait!" Vishnu thought, feeling a weight of depression settle in his heart.

Among the Trimurti, he was the busiest! Lord Shiva meditated and practiced asceticism daily, while Brahma sat in the Brahma world, often asleep. On the other hand, Vishnu was constantly engaged in maintaining the world and tending to the never-ending needs of the Universe.

How exhausting!

Shaking his head, Vishnu sensed Garuda drawing closer, and the Sudarshana Chakra on his fingertips shone brightly. Suddenly, in the blink of an eye, Vishnu and Shesha vanished.

...

Garuda was on his way to find the Lord. He spread his wings and soared into the sky, his golden feathers glimmering like the dawn and casting a faint golden glow across the horizon. In an instant, he passed through the Bhuloka, flew over the earthly boundary, and rushed into the Vaikuntha, the adobe of Lord Vishnu.

With a powerful flap of his golden wings, he stirred up waves in the vast expanse of the ocean.

"Lord!" he called out, his keen eagle eyes scanning the surroundings, but he saw no sign of Lord Vishnu. He flapped his wings again, searching the sea, but could find not even a trace of his Lord, let alone feel his divine presence.

"The curse is working!" Garuda's heart sank at the realization.

He folded his wings and transformed into a Deva, his wings now part of his back. Slowly, he descended onto the surface of the milk sea, feeling lonely and desolate. He was the only figure on the vast waters.

"Am I going to apologize to Indra?" Garuda gritted his teeth, frowning at the thought.

But as soon as he uttered it, he shook his head vigorously. How could he surrender to Indra? No! Not!

"I will do a hard penance for Lord Vishnu and seek boon to nullify the curse!" Garuda declared with determination. If Indra could perform penance to curse him, so could he too to lift the curse!

With newfound resolve, Garuda closed his eyes, stood on one foot, his big toe pressing into the sea of milk, clasped his hands together, and raised them above his head, entering into a state of penance in this unique yoga posture.

"Om Namo Bhagavate Vasudevaya!" he chanted.

...

Chants emerged from Garuda's mouth, echoing across the Kshira Sagara.

Wow! The waves began to boil, and the winds roared, crashing against Garuda's body. He frowned as a feeling of emptiness surged in his heart as if there were no support within him.

"No!" Garuda exclaimed, opening his eyes in confusion.

As soon as he closed them again, thoughts of the Lord's voice and smile flooded his mind. Yet, no matter how much he offered in tribute, he received no response and could not sense the Lord's presence. He simply could not enter the meditative state required for penance.

"Well!" Garuda clenched his fist and struck his chest hard. "The heart of the Lord encompasses the world, and my heart is devoted to the Lord. If the Lord can dedicate Himself to the world, then I too can dedicate myself to the Lord. It's only a small concession to Indra!"

"For the Lord's sake, I accept this grievance!" Garuda reassured himself.

Even as he spoke, he found it difficult to overcome the turmoil within his heart.

"Indra is more arrogant than I am. Why should I apologize to him?"

"Why?!" Garuda lamented, a sad expression on his face as he paced along the surface of the Kshira Sagara, wandering.

Suddenly, a sharp white light flashed above the Kshira Sagara. Garuda squinted at the brightness.

"That is... Shukracharya and Hiranyaksha!" he muttered to himself, frowning at the thought.

Shukracharya is not only the embodiment of Shukra (Venus) but also the teacher of the Asuras and the current teacher of Asura King Hiranyaksha. Now that Shukracharya and Hiranyaksha have appeared above the Kshira Sagara, it is likely that he seeks Lord Vishnu's assistance to help the Asuras regain their strength.

"If Shukracharya finds the Lord and aids the Asuras in regaining their power, it will spell trouble for the Devas! The Lord does not favor the Asuras; He prefers the Devas!"

"To ensure the Lord's reassurance, I must go to the Devas and ask them to intervene and thwart the Asuras' plans! I am returning for the good of the Devas and the entire universe! It's not as if I am trapped by a curse and forced to seek Indra!"

With this newfound purpose, Garuda's eyes lit up as he found a reason to approach Indra.

In an instant, Garuda soared into the sky.

--

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Chapter Text

In Vaikuntha

Vishnu sensed the Asura Guru's approach and looked up to see the menacing Shukracharya accompanied by a formidable Asura Hiranyaksha.

"The Asura who has come here doesn't seem to have good intentions!" he thought, a sense of worry creeping over him. Glancing at the space beside him, he sighed.

In a way, he was the Shukracharya's biggest enemy who had caused the death of Kavyamata, Shukracharya's mother. Long ago, during the Devas and Asuras war, the Devas sought Vishnu's help. To protect them, Vishnu had unleashed the Sudarshana Chakra. Once activated, the Sudarshana Chakra would not cease until its task was fulfilled.

The Asuras had fled to the home of Shukracharya's father, Bhrigu, one of the Saptarishi. Kavyamata, Bhrigu's wife, had sheltered the Asuras, swearing, "No matter what happens, I will protect my son's students. If you wish to harm them, you must kill me first!" Tragically, she was killed on the spot.

Enraged, Bhrigu cursed Vishnu, proclaiming that he would suffer the pain of losing his wife in the future. "The secret of today's scenery lies hidden in the past!! This is the result of karma!" Vishnu mused.

With Shukracharya now teaching the new asura king, he feared that the universe's balance was once again in imminent danger.

…

At that moment, Shukracharya appeared with white hair and a long beard, his cold expression betraying no emotion. Clad in a white robe, adorned with bracelets on his wrists, and holding a snake staff, he gazed at the Kshira Sagara with an air of authority.

"Hiranyaksha!"

"You have completed your penance and gained the boundless strength to lift the entire earth. Go now—churn the Kshira Sagara! Seize the Amrit that flows within the ocean's heart. This divine nectar will not only restore the Asuras' cursed power but grant you immortality beyond measure. Plus draw Devi Lakshmi out from its depths, take her from Vishnu, bring her to the Patalloka, and enshrine her. When this is done, the power of the cursed Asuras will be restored. With both Devi Lakshmi and the Amrit under your command, you will become unstoppable, reclaiming the wealth, glory, and honor of the Trilokas for the entire Asura kingdom!"

Shukracharya spread his arms wide, his voice resonating with authority.

Hiranyaksha's eyes sparkled, the light within them fierce and determined. Clad in golden armor, he possessed a towering physique. His bronze skin, like that of a mighty Deva, held the strength of countless Nagas coiling beneath, rippling with power. He ran a hand over his dark stubble, fists clenched as an infinite force surged within his grasp.

"I understand!" he declared. "Amrit shall be mine. Devi Lakshmi shall no longer bless Svarga but Patalloka, hahahaha!"

Hiranyaksha grinned, his beard quivering as he plunged into the sea. As he descended, his figure swelled, growing more immense, transforming into a giant whose size obscured the sky and sun as he sank into the depths.

Boom!

The Kshira Sagara trembled as Hiranyaksha entered, churning violently under his presence.

"Vishnu, if your devas refuse to rescue Devi Lakshmi, then we, the Asuras, shall take matters into our own hands," Shukracharya declared, his voice laced with cold resolve. A malicious glint flickered in his eyes as he continued, "We will rescue her ourselves and sever her bond with you forever. You will come to know the true anguish of losing a beloved member of your family, just as my mother Kavyamata was so cruelly torn from me. The Devas will tremble before our might, and you will feel the crushing weight of your failure as we claim Triloka as rightfully ours!"

…

Vishnu tilted his head, a sadness shadowing his gaze.

This too is a consequence of cleaning up after the Devas back then, he thought.

Though Devi Lakshmi might not hold the same priority in his heart as Triloka, she still held a deeply significant place.

Where are the Devas?

His gaze shifted towards Svarga. If it could be avoided, he preferred not to intervene directly and disrupt the world.

...

In Svargaloka.

"We should go to meet Lord Vishnu without delay," Rishi Brihaspati urged.

Indra nodded in agreement. Since Vishnu had summoned them, ignoring the call would be disrespectful.

"But our power is so low," Indra noted thoughtfully. "Let's first reignite the Yjana agni, have the Gandharvas sing hymns, gather faith from Bhuloka, and replenish some of our divine energy before meeting the Lord. Also, Devi Lakshmi's absence may be a test for him. The world is stable, and the Lord has yet to intervene, which suggests there's no immediate crisis."

The Devas exchanged uneasy glances, each sensing the embarrassment of appearing before Vishnu in their weakened state.

"Yes, we must restore our divine strength first," Sun Deva Surya agreed.

"It would be disrespectful to meet the Lord Vishnu like this," added Agni, the Deva of fire.

"Indeed! This is the right approach!" echoed Varuna, Deva of water.

Seeing all the Devas speak up, Wind Deva Vayu quickly added, "Yes, yes! I feel the same way!"

Rishi Brihaspati furrowed his brow, thinking it over. This plan did make sense.

With Devi Lakshmi missing and the churning of the Kshira Sagara unable to be completed quickly, waiting seemed the only option.

"Very well," Rishi Brihaspati agreed with a nod.

Soon, numerous Gandharvas gathered in a large circle, singing hymns from the Vedas. They held freshly collected flower petals, tossing them into the air around a central bonfire that blazed brightly. Each line of their song sent lotus petals scattering from their hands like a goddess herself casting blessings of flowers.

"As soon as the mighty Deva was born,
He became the protector of the Devas, endowed with boundless strength."

"With the thunder of his voice, he commands the storm,
His chariot, drawn by swift steeds, conquers the skies.
Indra, the slayer of foes, upholds the dharma,
And grants fortune and valor to those who seek his favor."

…

Indra watched the Yajna ceremony, listening to the Gandharva hymns. Feeling a touch of boredom, Indra watched the Yajna ceremony, listening to the Gandharvas' hymns. Feeling a touch of boredom, he picked up a nearby wood block and, with a flicker of his divine power, transformed it into a Mridangam. He began to tap it rhythmically with his hands, echoing the fall of lotus petals with each gentle thump.

The other Devas turned to watch, their curiosity piqued, and soon many Gandharvas were also drawn to Indra's impromptu beat. They followed his lively rhythm, weaving it seamlessly into their song.

Startled, Indra froze mid-strike, his hand suspended, and the corners of his mouth twitched in surprise. Was this hymn directed at him? The Gandharvas were singing with such skill that it left him feeling a bit embarrassed. As the hymn ended, the other Devas turned to him with interest.

"What's this?" Agni, the Deva of fire, asked, peering over.

"A kind of... music instrument," Indra replied casually.

His rhythm mimicked the soft fall of petals. In past lives, blind musicians or beggars would often strike simple instruments while they sang—a humble but graceful art form. Today's mood had somehow inspired him to join in.

"Next is my verse! Will you play for me too?" Agni asked, his hands clasped eagerly.

"Of course!" Indra smiled.

"Let me try too!"

"Me next!"

Indra's small act had transformed into a new rhythm for all.

…

Soon, the Gandharvas resumed their singing, offering praises to Agni from the Vedas:

"Through Agni's flame,
Fortune and blessings greet each day.
Bearing the glory of heroes in every way."

...

In the Brahmaloka, he frowned, shaking his head before finally speaking.

He had observed the events unfolding in the Kshira Sagara and watched the Devas in Svarga.

"At a time like this, the Devas should not simply wait! The world is slipping back into chaos!"

Expecting a response, he paused, but silence greeted him. Turning, he saw Devi Sarasvati with her eyes half-closed, smiling with serene happiness before disappearing from Brahma's world in a stream of golden light.

"Is this the fate of the worlds—to remain unacknowledged?" he murmured, watching the light fade. "Even the Devas turn their backs when duty calls. Must I bear the weight of their choices alone? What folly drives them to ignore the impending chaos?"

---

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---

Hiranyaksha is one of the powerful Asuras and the brother of Hiranyakashipu. Both are known for their immense strength and hostility toward the Devas. He is the son of Diti and the sage Kashyapa, making him part of the lineage of the Asuras.

Mridangam is a traditional Indian percussion instrument that holds significant importance in Indian classical music, especially in South Indian Carnatic music.

Chapter Text

To put smiles on the faces of Trimurti, Devas, and Devis is indeed a remarkable skill. Even pleasing the Rishis and Sages can lead to abundant boons and blessings. That's right! Appeasing the Devas serves as a shortcut to obtaining these blessings.

Though no one had previously taken this path, Indra had ventured into it unknowingly, pleased Devi Saraswati. Now, with a cheerful smile and an air of satisfaction, Devi Saraswati transformed into a ray of golden light, vanishing before Brahmaloka. She left the realm of Brahma and suddenly appeared in Svarga.

At that moment, the lotus flowers of Svarga bloomed vibrantly, reminiscent of Devi scattering petals, filling the air with a brief fragrance and a sense of prosperity. Upon her arrival, the Devas clasped their hands in reverence and offered their salutations to Devi Saraswati.

"Pranam to the Devi Saraswati!" they chorused, with Indra to pay their respects.

Devi Saraswati cradled a Veena in her arms. She wore a flowing white saree that billowed softly around her, embroidered with intricate gold patterns that caught the light like glimmering stars. Her delicate face wore a faint smile of wisdom, and her skin gleamed with the purity of snow, infused with the fragrance of books and lotus. Surrounding her was a divine light that radiated a brilliant platinum glow.

"What musical instrument do you hold in your hand?" Devi Saraswati asked, her voice sweet and inviting.

Indra had a sudden idea. He wasn't sure why Devi Saraswati had come, but seeing her smiling face suggested it was a positive visit. Perhaps he could compliment her and see if any benefits would follow.

"Devi Saraswati," he began, his voice steady, "I had not given it a name until now, but when you arrived, the lotus flowers seemed to rain down from the sky. As the embodiment of music and art, it feels only right to call this instrument 'Mridangam.'"

Devi Saraswati's face flushed with delight as soon as he finished speaking, and her smile widened, radiating joy.

"The lotus is the purest of flowers," she replied, her voice melodic. "It inspires easy compositions, and thus, I will bless you with this name!"

As she spoke, Devi Saraswati raised her right hand, and a soft light shimmered in her palm.

"From now on, anyone who sings the hymn 'Mridangam' will have their sins reduced with each performance," she proclaimed, her tone steady and sincere.

Then her gaze turned toward Indra, who raised his head in anticipation.

Devi Saraswati was still smiling, but what about his blessing?

"Indra…" she continued, causing him to breathe a sigh of relief. He had feared she would leave without bestowing any gifts.

Indra found himself drawn to the slow, graceful movements of women, especially when he lay back watching them dress.

"I bless the Devas. Whenever you encounter difficulties, play Mridangam, and you shall be granted entry into the Brahmaloka," Devi Saraswati declared.

In the blink of an eye, the Devi vanished.

Indra could only stare in silence. "... "

It was true that not everyone could enter the Brahma world; only those with pure hearts were granted passage. But what good was this blessing? Should he gather a group of Devas to visit the Brahmaloka just to listen to their teachings?

Yet, the other Devas except Indra seemed relieved.

Suryadev exclaimed, "This is wonderful! If we face a great disaster in the future, we can seek refuge in the Brahmaloka."

"Why don't we move there now?" Agnidev, suggested, glancing around tentatively.

The Devas fell into a brief silence. Wasn't it a bit hasty to relocate right after receiving the blessing?

Vayudev shook his head. "It's better not to. We must meet Lord Vishnu later. Let's save the discussion for when we face a significant disaster!"

"Yes! We need to meet the Lord Vishnu quickly! We have already made him wait," Rishi Brihaspati reminded them.

As the Devas continued their chatter, suddenly a strong wind swept through Svarga, causing them to stagger.

"No, we can't remain in Svarga any longer. We need to get to the Brahma Realm, quickly!" Vayu exclaimed, panic evident in his voice. He shook his body and grabbed the Vulcan beside him, his shock palpable.

"Wait! It seems to be Garuda!" Indra looked up, recognizing the giant golden shadow flying toward him. Upon hearing this, the Devas nodded in agreement, and Vayu returned to his calm state.

"Ahem! I wonder who stirred up this little wind," Vayu remarked, slightly defeated.

Boom!

At that moment, Garuda retracted his wings and abruptly landed, sending waves of air rippling outward.

"Hmph!" Garuda snorted coldly before speaking.

"I saw Shukracharya and an Asura at the Kshira Sagara. The Asura appeared unaffected by the curse. I suspect they are seeking help from the Lord Vishnu. If you don't act, those Asuras will come for you, and when they do..."

"Stop, stop, stop!" Indra interjected, cutting him off.

He stepped forward, raising his finger and pointing at Garuda. "Since you're back, you should apologize to me!"

"I'm trying to warn you about the Asuras potentially attacking Svarga!" Garuda protested.

"I know about the Asuras, but before that, I expect an apology!" Indra replied firmly.

"You..." Garuda began, but Indra wouldn't let it slide.

"What are you going to do about it?" Indra pressed.

Hearing this, Garuda lowered his head, ceasing his defiance. He turned away and quickly muttered, "I'm sorry!"

"Is that how you apologize? It is as if I owe you something!" Indra retorted.

"I'm doing this all for the Lord!" Garuda exclaimed.

"For the Lord!" Indra echoed mockingly.

Garuda gritted his teeth in frustration, taking a deep breath to steady himself. Lowering his head and softening his tone, he finally said, "Yes... I'm sorry."

Indra shook his head. "Louder! I can't hear you!"

"I can hardly hear you speaking so quietly. Garuda, the fastest being in the trilokas, dares to face everything head-on. Use your courage and shout it out! Otherwise, I won't be satisfied!"

"We are all going to Vaikuntha to meet lord Vishnu. You don't want to miss seeing the Lord!" Indra shouted.

Snap!

Garuda clasped his hands together, his expression a complex mix of compassion, sacrifice, and a hint of stubbornness. He closed his eyes and bowed deeply to Indra. "I'm sorry!" he declared, his voice resonating with courage.

"Because my arrogance has violated the Dharma, I ask the King of Svarga to lift the curse and allow me to see the Lord Vishnu again. In the future, I will treat Indra with respect as his brother."

Garuda tightened his eyes and spoke loudly, his sincerity evident.

Indra nodded slowly and smiled.

Satisfied! He felt a deep sense of contentment. He liked the way Garuda looked unconvinced yet still had to give in.

"Good!" Indra said, raising his right hand toward Garuda. "As long as you respect me, Indra, and remember to be grateful for my role in eliminating your arrogance—without slandering or harming me at will—this curse will no longer be in effect."

In that moment, the power of penance surged. A golden light emanated from Indra's body and enveloped Garuda instantly.

Garuda's form shimmered with golden radiance. He quickly put his hands together, closed his eyes, and offered a prayer in the name of Lord Vishnu.

"Om Namo Bhagavate Vasudevaya."

As the sacred chant filled the air, Garuda felt a profound swell of gratitude within his heart. The familiar, divine presence of Vishnu enveloped him once more.

"It's back! The Lord's presence has returned to me once again."

Chapter Text

"It's back! The Lord's presence has returned to me once more."

Garuda raised his head, closed his eyes in pure contentment, and opened his arms wide, as if to embrace the entire world, welcoming the Lord's spirit back into his being. Rishi Brihaspati, observing this display, looked on with satisfaction.

Such classic acts of repentance and a return to the path of righteousness were worthy of record. At that moment, Brihaspati resolved to chronicle these events for future Brahmins to recite. With a small gesture, a stack of paper and a reed pen appeared in his hands, and he began to write.

"Under the guidance of King Indra, Garuda repented for his pride and discovered the importance of respect for both his brothers and Lord Vishnu..."

Rishi Brihaspati continued his work, his hand flowing over the paper with graceful strokes like dragons and serpents.

Suddenly—Boom!—a deep, unfamiliar rumble shook the atmosphere, sending a powerful shockwave rippling across the three realms. Svarga trembled continuously as if the very heavens were in upheaval.

"What is this?!" Indra's face tensed. "What's happening?"

"Allow me to investigate!" Varunadev exclaimed, raising his hands and summoning his divine power to create a mirror of water before the Devas. Through it, they could glimpse the source of the disturbance.

In the water mirror, a massive figure emerged in Krishna Sagara—a giant asura, towering high enough to support the Svargas and the earth itself. Clad in radiant golden armor, his eyes blazed like golden suns, shining with boundless intensity. His arms, thick and sinewy like those of a mighty Naga, exuded raw power, seeming capable of holding up the world.

"Finding Amrita by diving like this is taking too long. I'll try a different approach!"

The asura's voice thundered as he gripped Mount Mandara, lifting it effortlessly from the ground as if he intended to move it entirely.

Boom!

The earth trembled beneath him, sending shockwaves that created countless cracks sprawling across the landscape. Living creatures and yakshas on Mount Mandara scattered in terror as rocks and soil tumbled down, transforming into blazing meteors that plummeted back into the Cosmic Ocean.

"Not good!" Rishi Brihaspati's face turned pale with shock. "That's Mount Mandara—the very axis of Bhuloka, the bridge linking Svargaloka and Bhuloka. Why would he disturb it?!"

"I thought Garuda was exaggerating," Indra murmured, awe creeping into his voice as he took a deep breath. "But this asura—who is he to wield such power?"

Garuda's wings could stir the skies, yet beside this colossal figure, his might felt like nothing more than a fleeting ripple.

"Best not to intervene!"

"Devaraj, have you forgotten? That's Hiranyaksha—the king of the Asuras!" Brihaspati's eyes widened in awe as he observed the massive figure. "I'd heard that he and his elder brother Hiranyakashipu were undertaking rigorous penance. At least Hiranyaksha must have completed it, gaining immense power through the divine boon from Lord Brahma."

At this, a memory jolted in Indra's mind. "Hiranyaksha!" he murmured.

The legend was vivid in his recollection: Hiranyaksha, the Asura king, had once plunged the earth into the depths of Kshira Sagara, capturing Bhu Devi as his prisoner and threatening to unravel all of creation. In response, Vishnu, in his mighty form as Varaha avatar, the great boar, rose to face him. With unmatched strength, Varaha battled Hiranyaksha, ultimately subduing him and restoring Bhu Devi to her rightful place on earth, preserving the balance of the universe.

Hiranyaksha was born to Rishi Kashyapa and Diti, aligning him with the powerful lineage of the Asuras, descendants of Diti. As a half-brother to the Adityas—born to Kashyapa and his other wife, Aditi—the rivalry was deeply ingrained. The Adityas embodied the forces of divine light, order, and dharma, in opposition to the often rebellious and formidable Asuras. Thus, the two lineages, bound by family, remained locked in a cosmic struggle, representing the eternal tension between chaos and order in the universe.

"Was it Brahma's boon of near-invincibility?" Indra pondered aloud, his suspicion falling on the creator known for his generous bestowal of boons. "Could Brahma have granted Hiranyaksha the power to lift the earth?"

"Perhaps," he muttered, growing more certain. "It's highly likely. After all, that's the Asuras' favorite boon—making them immune to harm from gods, mortals, and most beings in the cosmos."

"Wait—didn't Hiranyaksha recently journey to Kshira Sagara to seek Lord Vishnu? Why is he uprooting Mount Mandara now?" Garuda added, visibly shaken as he recalled seeing Rishi Shukraacharya escorting Hiranyaksha above Kshira Sagara some time ago.

Indra's thoughts raced. "Could he be planning to use Mount Mandara to churn Kshira Sagara?"

Garuda felt a surge of shock at the implication. One is lifting the entire Mount Mandara! Who in Svarga could match that strength? Who in the Triloka could oppose him if he wielded Mandara as his weapon?

Indra's frown deepened. If Hiranyaksha truly attempted to churn Kshira Sagara... Amrita, the divine nectar of immortality, lies in those waters. If Hiranyaksha gains it, it would spell catastrophe. The Devas might end up as mere guards at the gates of Patalaloka!

And they hadn't yet tasted the Amrita. Without its gift of immortality, death would be final. "We need the Amrita above all else," he muttered. "If we fail, at least Vishnu will intervene. And if the worst comes to pass, the blessing of Goddess Saraswati could still guide us to Brahmaloka. Hiranyaksha may show some respect for Brahma, who granted him boons."

"Prepare for victory to secure an escape route," Indra reminded himself, carefully strategizing his next moves. He then approached Garuda and spoke decisively, "Transform into your great eagle form and take us to Kshira Sagara!"

Stunned, Garuda looked at Indra, processing the weight of his command. No one but Lord Vishnu had ever ridden on his back, but this was an urgent matter—too pressing to allow pride to stand in the way! Just think of it as a favor for the Lady, Goddess Lakshmi, Garuda told himself, steeling his resolve.

With a powerful screech, Garuda raised his head, his sharp cry resounding across the Svargas and echoing into the vastness. His body glowed with a golden light as he expanded, his wings stretching wider and wider, filling the sky. Then, bending low, he knelt halfway to the ground.

Indra took to the air immediately, followed closely by the other Devas and the chief Rishis. The moment they steadied themselves on his back, Garuda surged forward, sensing his Lord's presence and setting his path toward Kshira Sagara.

With each beat of his mighty wings, Garuda sliced through the realms, shadowing the sky as he traversed Svarga and Bhuloka. As they drew nearer, the Devas were awestruck by Hiranyaksha's immense form—too vast to comprehend from their distance. His colossal body seemed in constant motion, with each hair resembling mountains stretching for hundreds of miles, quaking as he moved. From his countless pores radiated light like a field of white lotuses, each bloom shining brilliantly.

"So enormous!" gasped Suryadeva in awe.

"With strength like that, it's no wonder he can lift Mount Mandara, the very center of the world," Agnideva added, his voice filled with trepidation.

The Devas exchanged worried glances, sensing the weight of the impending challenge. Hiranyaksha's arrival in this world showcased a power that far surpassed that of the Devas. Even at their peak, they might struggle to stop him.

"This strength stems from his blessings, but he should gradually weaken under the curse," Indra reasoned. "However, the curse hasn't lasted long enough since he received the boon to significantly diminish his power."

With the Rishi's curse and the disappearance of Goddess Lakshmi, Hiranyaksha's weakening was nearly inevitable. Yet his boons were exceptionally strong, providing a solid foundation that still allowed him to exert considerable strength.

"That makes sense!" Rishi Brihaspati affirmed, nodding. He pulled out his notebook, picked up his pen, and continued documenting the events of the past: "During the journey to the Kshira Sagara, King Indra observed Hiranyaksha's vulnerabilities…"

Garuda soared into the Kshira Sagara, determination propelling him forward.

"Lord Vishnu, here I come!" he exclaimed.

As he traversed the endless expanse of the Kshira Sagara, Garuda finally caught sight of the Lord Vishnu he had longed for.

In a rush, the Devas transformed into streaks of golden light, cascading into the Kshira Sagara.

Vishnu, the protector of the world, furrowed his brow, his expression a mixture of concern and complexity.

"Indra…" he murmured.

Chapter Text

"Indra! Beneath the Kshira Sagara lies the solution to your current curse and the prosperity of Svaraga has been lost. It can be regained with the blessing of Devi Lakshmi. Plus with the help of the Amrita of Immortaliy, with it, the Devas will gain the strength to prevail over the Asuras and protect the cosmic balance. Together, the blessings of Lakshmi and the gift of Amrita will not only end your curse but also secure the prosperity and immortality of the Svarga for ages to come.," Vishnu said slowly.

He had issued an S-level mission: Churning the Kshira Sagara!
Mission rewards: Restoration of divine power and Svarga, and the Amrita of Immortality.

"But…"

"The Asura King Hiranyaksha is now moving Mount Mandara. Under the guidance of Rishi Shukracharya, he intends to use it alone to churn the Kshira Sagara."

Hearing this, Indra nodded, suddenly enlightened. "Hiranyaksha aims to create a powerful churning rod to stir the Kshira Sagara and extract its essence. Realizing that his strength wasn't enough, he chose Mount Mandara as his mighty tool, determined to churn the Kshira Sagara until he had extracted every last drop of its hidden treasures!"

Vishnu tilted his head in surprise at Indra's insight but acknowledged its truth. "Yes, exactly," he replied with a serious nod. "Hiranyaksha has been granted boons: near-invincibility, immense strength, and resistance to all weapons. His power has grown beyond your own; facing him head-on would be futile."

Softening his voice, Vishnu offered a gentle smile as he revealed the true extent of the challenge they faced.

At this point, the Devas panicked, confusion and unease spreading among them.

Agni Deva's mouth fell open in shock, his fiery resolve dimming. Suryadev's expression turned dark and inscrutable, his usual warmth replaced by a heavy, brooding silence. Varunadev furrowed his brow, confusion shadowing his face as he struggled to comprehend the enormity of Hiranyaksha's power. Vayudev staggered slightly as if even his boundless energy had been knocked off balance by the revelation.

Boom!
Boom!

Massive waves erupted in the pristine Kshira Sagara as the colossal form of Hiranyaksha suddenly emerged. He embraced the enormous Mount Mandara, the axis of the universe, which slowly descended into the Kshira Sagara. The mighty Mount Mandara, supporting both Bhuloka and Svarga, was cradled in Hiranyaksha's grasp.

His massive waist relaxed, arching forward as he moved, reminiscent of an ancient bear rubbing against a tree, churning the waters with every shift. The mighty Kshira Sagara surged with colossal waves, vast and endless. White crests of water stretched into the horizon, appearing to extend for eternity—boundless and immeasurable.

Amid these towering waves of the Kshira Sagara, the Devas were gripped by panic, feeling dwarfed and powerless against the immense force unfolding before them.

"We can't defeat Hiranyaksha at all!" Vayudeva exclaimed, dread filling his voice.

"Please, Lord Vishnu, save us!" Suryadeva cried, his face a mask of fear.

"Lord Vishnu, take action quickly!" Agnideva urged desperation lacing his tone.

In response, Vishnu smiled but said nothing. He looked at Indra and spoke slowly, "Indra, what do you think?"

"The Kshira Sagara is infinitely vast, boundless in depth and expanse. Hiranyaksha can remain atop its surface due to his divine power, but if he attempts to lift Mount Mandara, the axis of the world, he may very well plunge into its depths," Indra analyzed thoughtfully.

The Devas and Asuras weren't the only ones who were needed to churn the Kshira Sagara. After moving to Mount Mandara, they still needed Vishnu to transform into a turtle to serve as a winch, preventing the mountain from sinking into the waters.

Even though Hiranyaksha possesses boundless divine power, he cannot match the countless grains of sand in the Ganges River. When his divine energy is exhausted, if Hiranyaksha does not release Mount Mandara, he will be dragged into the Kshira Sagara.

"Samudra Manthan isn't something anyone can accomplish alone, especially while wielding the weight of Mount Mandara! I doubt he possesses inexhaustible stamina!" Indra mused as he turned his gaze toward Garuda.

"Garuda!"

Indra turned his head and commanded, "Go to Svarga and bring all the legions of Svarga, along with as many Gandharvas as you can find. They will be indispensable, even if the Kshira Sagara is churned!"

Garuda's mouth twitched in annoyance. He was not a subordinate of the King of Svarga and had no intention of obeying Indra's orders.

"While I respect you, that doesn't give you the right to order me around!" Garuda retorted sharply.

Vishnu smiled softly. "You're right, Indra. Hiranyaksha won't last long! Garuda, Indra is correct. Go!"

Garuda fell silent, his frustration evident. The Lord has been swayed by Indra!

Yet, under Lord Vishnu's decree, he had no choice but to comply. With a heavy heart, Garuda spread his wings and flew toward Svarga.

At that moment, Vishnu tilted his head. The magnificent wheel of vision in his hand continued to turn, and his eyes, like the wind, swept over Indra's form, revealing a hint of surprise.

If this had been the previous Indra, he would have belittled Hiranyaksha, angrily complaining that the Asura was overestimating his abilities and coveting his throne as King of Svarga—a crime worthy of death.

Vishnu's gaze shifted to Hiranyaksha on the other side. The demon's footsteps grew heavier as the Kshira Sagara rose, already submerging his ankles and creeping toward his knees.

Boom!
Boom!

Hiranyaksha held Mount Mandara in his arms, using it as a pillar to churn the boundless Kshira Sagara, empowered by divine energy.

"Teacher, I can't hold it any longer!" Hiranyaksha gasped, his bright eyes bloodshot and his entire body starting to lean toward the Kshira Sagara.

"Not good!"

Rishi Shukracharya sensed trouble as he observed Hiranyaksha's struggle. The demon had intended to use Mount Mandara to churn the Kshira Sagara, but if the axis of the worlds truly fell into the depths, the Trimurti would undoubtedly intervene, putting Hiranyaksha in grave danger.

With a grave expression, Rishi Shukracharya shouted, "Hold on! I will go to Patala Loka immediately to summon other Asuras who still possess their strength. We must not let the Devas interfere!"

Without hesitation, he set off for Patala Loka, determined to gather Asura generals and legions to help stabilize Mount Mandara.

Hiranyaksha's eyes widened as he stood firm in the Kshira Sagara, his massive body wrapped around the colossal mountain. With red arms brimming with dragon-elephant power, he radiated a force that terrified the Devas.

At that moment, Mount Mandara remained stable!

"Lord Vishnu, why don't you just take Mount Mandara back from him?" Suryadeva asked, joining his palms in a respectful pranam.

"He is currently embracing Mount Mandara, and he hasn't sunk into the Kshira Sagara. He hasn't disrupted the worldly order, nor has he violated Dharma. The Trimurti will only intervene when it is necessary," Vishnu murmured.

'You have to follow the rules, right?' Indra pondered.

"In that case, let's go tickle him!" Indra exclaimed, waving his hand as he rallied the Devas and soared forward.

A wave of fear washed over the Devas, yet their trust in King Indra and the Lord compelled them to follow.

Indra flew up to face Hiranyaksha's sun-like eyes, his heart racing as he hovered before the massive figure. As he gazed upon the asura's towering form, completely shrouded in the swirling chaos of the Kshira Sagara, Indra felt a mix of awe and surprise.

He's enormous! The size difference was so great that Hiranyaksha wouldn't even be able to see him.

"Blind his eyes first!" Indra commanded.

Gathering his hands at his waist, he activated his divine power and conjured a ball of violent lightning. With a sudden thrust, he released a powerful turtle-style Qigong, hurling it directly into Hiranyaksha's eyes.

Boom!

Thunder and lightning erupted as dazzling bolts pierced the sky, shaking the endless expanse and illuminating the area before Hiranyaksha.

"Huh? Ah!!!"

A loud noise erupted, resembling the roar of a stormy wave or an earthquake. Hiranyaksha felt a stinging sensation in his eyes, and in confusion, he quickly shut them tight. When he opened them again, realization dawned: he had been the target of a sneak attack. He squinted against the brightness and followed the trail of lightning.

The figures of the Devas stood beside him.

"Indra!" Hiranyaksha's voice thundered, reverberating across the Kshira Sagara, causing Indra's ears to ring.

Indra pointed with one hand and declared, "Hiranyaksha, I'm here to negotiate terms!"

---

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Chapter Text

"Hiranyaksha, I'm here to negotiate!" Indra declared, hovering in the sky as he locked eyes with Hiranyaksha and raised his hand. Hiranyaksha was momentarily stunned, but his expression shifted instantly, and he couldn't help but erupt into laughter.

"Hahahaha! Indra, are you truly qualified to negotiate with me?"

His laughter echoed like thunder, and his enormous mouth opened wide, resembling a black hole. From it poured a formidable wind, fierce and relentless, reminiscent of the cosmic storms of doom.

"Vayu! It's up to you now—hold on!"

Indra stepped back three paces, placing himself protectively in front of the wind deity, Vayu, and pointed straight ahead.

"Ah?" Vayu exclaimed, staring at the swirling tempest with a look of horror on his face.

He was indeed the wind deity, but in that moment, he felt his divine power waning, and the monstrous winds threatened to sweep him away.

"We have to hold on, even if it seems impossible!" Indra urged. "Varuna, Agni, Surya—let's transfer our power to him!"

As Indra spoke, he clasped his hands together in reverence to Vayu, and a brilliant golden light enveloped them.

"Praise the Vayudeva! Praise the Vayudeva!"

The water, fire, and sun deities responded immediately, their voices joining in a chorus as powerful energy surged into Vayu's being, fortifying him against the raging winds.

"Vayu, don't get blown away! You'll lose your pride!" Indra urged anxiously.

"I'm brimming with power! Don't worry!" Vayu, the wind deity, replied, his eyes flashing like lightning. He was no weakling; as the wind deity, he was a fierce warrior among the Devas and a seasoned champion in their battles.

With a decisive gesture, Vayu summoned his divine power. The wild winds coalesced into a thunderous roar, transforming into 99,999 white horses that surged forward, appearing before the Devas. The wind horses whinnied and stamped their iron hooves, charging ahead with unstoppable force.

Hiss—

The sound of nearly 100,000 white horses echoed like a storm, drowning out the chaos of battle. Their combined roar sliced through the air, tearing apart the turbulent winds spewing from Hiranyaksha's mouth and creating a path through the chaos.

Hiranyaksha paused, momentarily taken aback, and glanced at the Devas. These beings seem to possess formidable power!

"What are you doing here?" he demanded, his voice booming like thunder.

Indra stepped forward confidently and declared, "I challenge you to a fight. If you win, we will leave!"

Hiranyaksha's laughter erupted, sounding like a great joke he couldn't ignore. He twisted his mouth and beard in disbelief, casting a sardonic glance at Indra.

"Just you? Indra, how dare you challenge me?!"

Hiranyaksha sneered as waves of air surged around him, causing the waves in Kshira Sagara to surge violently.

"Are you scared?" Indra retorted, his voice steady. Hiranyaksha's eyes widened with fury at the question.

'Scared? Would he ever be scared?'

Though rage surged within him, he remembered Rishi Shukracharya's instructions to hold up Mount Mandara calmly, forcing him to suppress his anger.

"Haha! You're not worthy of challenging me!" Hiranyaksha sneered, a cold laugh escaping his lips.

Indra stepped forward, blinking as he spoke in a deep voice, "I've heard that a lion raised in captivity forgets how to hunt in the wild. You are the king of Patala Loka, hasn't Shukracharya taught you that a king can never refuse a challenge to battle?"

Hiranyaksha shook his head at Indra's eloquent words. "What are you talking about?" he snapped angrily.

"It seems you are too stupid to understand analogies. Let me put it simply: You're not worthy of being the Asura King!" Indra replied calmly.

The corners of Hiranyaksha's eyebrows twitched as he glared at Indra, his expression darkening. "Not worthy?! My power can overturn the Bhuloka and pluck the stars from the sky! With your current strength, you are not worthy enough to even talk to me!"

Suddenly, Hiranyaksha roared, his black hair whipping wildly in the wind, showcasing his arrogance. A fierce gust erupted, causing the Kshira Sagara to churn and rise in towering waves. The crashing sound unleashed a violent force that shook the very world around them.

"No!" Indra smiled slightly, standing with his feet together. He supported his forehead with his left hand, pointed at Hiranyaksha with his right, and laughed softly. "You are the challenger!"

"Hehe!" As soon as his voice fell, a profound silence enveloped the surroundings. Indra continued, his tone shifting to one of authority, "Do you truly think you can challenge me? I am Indra, the King of Svarga! I've been the king of Svarga far longer than you've been the king of Patala Loka. I've faced foes that would send tremors through your very being, while you, Hiranyaksha, are but a little brother seeking to prove himself."

"Have you forgotten our lineage? As the elder brother, I have to uphold the honor of our family. You may possess strength, but wisdom and experience are my allies. Your ambitions cloud your judgment. You think yourself a worthy challenger, yet you stand in the shadow of my legacy."

"Consider this: the King of Svarga does not back down from a challenge, nor does he falter in the face of a younger sibling's bravado. If you wish to fight, then step forward, little brother, and prepare to face the weight of my reign!"

As soon as his voice fell, a profound silence enveloped the Krishi Sagara.

Suryadeva gasped, taking a deep breath, his dark face filled with astonishment. "So audacious! So arrogant! This is the Indra I remember."

"He's reminiscent of the Indra of old—fearless and arrogant, but does he truly understand the stakes this time?" Vayudev muttered to himself, clearly taken aback.

"Can he provoke Hiranyaksha like this?" Agnideva whispered concern etched on his face.

Varunadev nodded slowly, his expression serious. "It's a dangerous game he's playing. But you know how Asuras are they are prone to get angry very easily. This is their ancient weakness that they can't migate even with so much knowledge."

Meanwhile, the protector of the dharma, Vishnu lay upon his serpent bed, observing Hiranyaksha with a slight curl of his lips. "This is reminiscent of the proud Indra, the King of Svarga, from before. I thought, without divine power, he wouldn't dare speak like this. But now, he has truly provoked Hiranyaksha!"

...

Brahmaloka.

"What arrogant words!"

Brahma was closely observing the events unfolding on the Kshira Sagara. He was curious to see how Indra would provoke Hiranyaksha into action, but he didn't expect Indra to be so direct in his challenge.

At that moment, Brahma felt an itch on his neck. He turned his head and glanced at the Vedas—the knowledge of the universe—emanating a faint golden light in his hand.

His fifth head had been removed by Lord Shiva due to his extreme pride as the creator. "Indeed, one must be careful when speaking to others," Brahma reflected.

....

Lord Shiva sat motionless, his expression serene. His eyes were like the depth of oceans—deep and bottomless—reflecting the tumultuous situation in the Kshira Sagara.

"It seems the King of Svarga has gained much wisdom through rigorous penance. He has learned how to provoke the innate pride of Asuras," Lord Shiva murmured.

Asuras are a blend of honor, impatience, and lust to be the king of Triloka. Nandi looked on with curiosity.

"Asuras are aggressive and irritable. Now that Hiranyaksha's pride has been attacked, he will undoubtedly take action," Mahadeva explained.

...

At that moment, Hiranyaksha was furious. The radiant figure of Hiranyaksha resembled two beams of light shooting up into the sky, illuminating everything around him. He had never experienced such scorn before. A group of Devas, stripped of their divine power, dared to claim that he, the Asura King blessed with immense strength, was the challenger.

"Then I will kill you today!" King Hiranyaksha roared, his voice filled with rage. With a sudden release of his arms, the massive Mount Mandara plummeted straight down, crashing into the Kshira Sagara.

Initially, the waves of the Kshira Sagara sank, only to be followed by towering white waves rising from around Mount Mandara, rippling outward in layers.

At that moment, the Triloka trembled!

"Well done! I surrender!"

Indra, recognizing that the plan had succeeded, stopped boasting. He shouted, turned, and ran away.

The surrounding Devas exchanged confused glances. Suddenly, the Vayudeva realized what was happening and took off after Indra. The other Devas quickly followed suit, chasing after him.

Hiranyaksha's eyes widened in disbelief; his fury turned his complexion blood-red, and his murderous intent soared into the sky.

"How dare you fool me!" Hiranyaksha screamed, his voice echoing like thunder. With a wave of his massive hand, he summoned winds and clouds, launching them straight at Indra and the devas.

The sky and ocean suddenly darkened; everything lost its color and turned pitch black. Indra looked up and saw the winds and clouds gathering, roaring with the force of airwaves, while a massive hand blotted out the sky and sun as it came crashing down towards them.

This Hiranyaksha is truly powerful!

Fortunately, there was someone above him! Indra steadied himself, coughed twice to clear his throat, and raised his voice, calling out loudly,

"Lord Vishnu! Mandara Mountain is sinking in Krishi Sagara the universe is in danger. As the protector of the universe, If you do not reveal yourself now, when will you choose to show your presence?"

Chapter Text

A ray of golden light suddenly emerged from behind Indra, casting shimmering spots that flickered and transformed into thousands of stars scattered just like the grain of sands of the Ganga. These stars dotted the luminous sea in a continuous patch, illuminating the Kshira Sagara.

Yet, beneath this radiant glow, everything appeared unchanged, as if the recent events had merely been a special effect.

"Hahaha! Indra are you using Maya to confuse me? Did you forget Maya is the forte of Asuras, not Devas? You won't intimidate me!" Hiranyaksha exclaimed, his anger palpable as he laughed derisively.

Maya means illusion!

The Vedas proclaim the existence of an omniscient and omnipotent supreme being in the universe: Brahman. Brahman is the source of all creation, eternal and unchanging, transcending time and space.

Everything in the world is a manifestation of Brahman, created through the illusion of its presence. Thus, what we perceive is not the ultimate reality but merely an illusion. Only by transcending this illusion can one find Brahman and achieve the highest state of oneness with the divine.

Maya is the reflection of Brahman, akin to the shadow of a dream, or the interplay of sunlight and moonlight.

"Lord Vishnu, what are you waiting for? Did you forget your promise?"

Indra, momentarily taken aback, looked around in confusion.

"Hiranyaksha!" Vishnu's calm voice suddenly resonated, echoing across the expanse of the Kshira Sagara.

The sound seemed to emanate from an infinite height, traversing immeasurable distances, rising higher than the earth, the Bhuloka, Svarga, Patala Loka, and even Kailash—higher than the very fabric of the world itself. Indra followed the voice and looked up.

At that infinite height, Vishnu manifested in his divine form, a striking blue figure with four arms, standing majestically above the cosmos. At this moment, Vishnu seemed to be within the Goloka Vrindavan, radiating divine light. He held a massive, heavy vessel in one hand, from which fragrant nectar flowed, transforming into the Kshira Sagara.

So grand! So immense! It felt as though the world could be obliterated in an instant.

As the protector of the universe, Vishnu's power could even temporarily surpass that of Shiva during the preservation of existence, granting him the capacity to annihilate any adharma that wishes to harm the balance of the universe. However, he would never bring destruction upon it, for doing so would strip him of his identity and authority as the World Protector.

Hiranyaksha watched from a distance, overwhelmed by a mix of shock, anger, and horror. Suddenly, a flash of golden light erupted, and the magnificent Sudarshan Chakra emerged from Vishnu's hand.

With a swift motion, the Sudarshan Chakra flew from Vishnu's fingertip like a dream, traversing countless spaces in an instant, and heading straight for Hiranyaksha's neck.

Surprised, the surrounding Devas quickly regained their courage and erupted in cheers.

"Excellent! Lord Vishnu has taken action, and Hiranyaksha is no more!" Surya exclaimed, his voice echoing with triumph.

"Hahaha! No Asura or even a Deva can withstand the power of the Sudarshan Chakra! With Hiranyaksha defeated, the Asuras will be leaderless and unable to conquer Svarga!" Varuna added, a smirk playing on his lips.

"We are truly lucky that the asura king is so foolish to face the Trimurit," Vayu chimed in, his eyes shining with admiration as he gazed at the spectacle before them. "The Sudarshan Chakra will never fail its purpose! Its light will cut through the darkness, ensuring that balance prevails!"

But Indra's expression shifted as he frowned. "Hiranyaksha seems to be blessed by Brahma, doesn't he?" Indra muttered, narrowing his eyes as he focused intently on Hiranyaksha.

At that moment, Hiranyaksha was filled with shock and rage. As the Sudarshan Chakra approached, he instinctively turned his head and closed his eyes.

Boom!

In the blink of an eye, the Sudarshan Chakra struck Hiranyaksha's neck. The wheel spun relentlessly, but despite its might—capable of cleaving through the Kshira Sagara and slicing Mount Mandara—it encountered an impenetrable force, unable to even sever a single hair on his head.

Vishnu frowned slightly as his divine form returned, two rays of golden light emerged from him. One ray fell onto Mount Mandara, which had plunged into the Kshira Sagara, causing enormous waves to surge into the sky. A gigantic turtle emerged, lifting Mount Mandara from the depths.

Kurma, the divine turtle, poked its round-beaked head out of the water as Mount Mandara began to rise slowly.

Another flicker of golden light danced around before settling beside Indra, manifesting into the original form of Vishnu, who now stared intently at Hiranyaksha before him.

"Karma!" Vishnu murmured. It was Brahma, the Creator among the Trimurti, who had granted Hiranyaksha an almost insurmountable boon: the assurance that no Deva, nor demon, could bring him harm.

Hiranyaksha slowly opened his eyes.

"Hahaha! The Protector of the Universe is nothing more than that! Only my brother and I are the strongest in the Triloka!" he boasted, throwing his head back in laughter.

He clasped his head with both hands, twisting his neck until it cracked loudly, bones popping in a display of strength. Then, curling the corners of his mouth into a smirk, he raised his hand with an air of arrogance, pinching the Sudarshan Chakra between his two fingers. Sudarshan Chakra paused in midair, held precariously on his fingertips as he glared provocatively at Vishnu.

Vishnu's expression tightened slightly. He moved his fingers just a bit, and the dazzling sight of Sudarshan Chakra transformed into golden light, dissipating and returning to his fingertips.

Boons, the fruits of Karma are laws of the world, directly embedded in the reality of the particular universe, making even the Trimurti struggle to directly break them.

The Devas watched in terror. This Hiranyaksha's boon was so formidable that even the World Protector, one of the Trimurti's weapons, could not harm him.

"Impossible! How could he block the Lord's Sudarshan Chakra?" Suryadeva exclaimed, eyes widening in disbelief.

"He must have received a boon. Could it be that he has performed penance for Lord Brahma?" Agni speculated, suddenly slapping his thigh.

"It must be this way! It must be!" Vayudev and Varunadev echoed, their voices tinged with astonishment.

…

In Brahmaloka, Brahma's expression darkened slightly as he slowly turned his head, deliberately avoiding the gaze of Saraswati across from him. Intrigued, Saraswati couldn't help but wonder. She was certain that the blessing must have come from her husband!

"Well!" she exclaimed. "When Hiranyaksha was in Patala Loka, he worshipped diligently and received a boon. The invulnerability of meeting his death by neither any god, man, nor beast!"

Brahma recounted the entire story in a deep, resonant voice.

Upon hearing this, Saraswati's eyes widened in shock, and her beautifully arched brows knitted together in concern. "In that case, the Devas will be in serious trouble!"

…

"No one can defeat me! No one!" Hiranyaksha bellowed, his laughter echoing across the Kshira Sagara. He transformed his hand into a divine hammer that blotted out the sky and struck Indra with immense force.

Indra snorted coldly and retreated behind Vishnu. This Hiranyaksha wielded the power of a blessing; no one in Svarga or on Bhuloka could harm him. According to legend, Vishnu had once separated the incarnation of a wild boar that was neither Deva, demon, nor human, and had fought fiercely with Hiranyaksha for thousands of years before finally defeating him. The stronger Hiranyaksha grew, the stronger he became.

But before Indra stood Vishnu. As long as Indra remained here, no one could harm him. A faint golden light emanated from Vishnu's body, shimmering upward and producing a deafening rumble upon impact, effectively blocking the power of the giant hammer. Vishnu frowned in concentration.

At that moment, a bright white light suddenly illuminated the distance. Led by Rishi Shukracharya, the Asura teacher, and accompanied by Vajra Shen, Holika, Puloman and Viprachitti took the forefront.

Hundreds of thousands of Asuras surged forward.

"Hahaha! My army of Asuras has arrived! You Devas will become my prisoners today!" Hiranyaksha laughed heartily, casting a triumphant glance at the multitude of Devas.

With so many Asuras at his command, capturing a few Devas who had lost their divine powers would be an easy feat. He was certain of victory!

Surya and the other Devas were frightened into silence, quickly flying to Vishnu's side and gazing at him with pleading expressions.

Vishnu frowned at the sight. The Devas' growing panic was palpable as they waited for his response.

"With so many Asuras, we are outmatched. Why don't we return to Svarga?" Varunadev suggested in a low voice.

As soon as he spoke, the other Devas quickly echoed their agreement.

Surya furrowed his brow, his golden eyes shimmering with concern. "Indeed, that makes sense. We should think this through carefully!"

Agni nodded, his flames flickering with urgency. "Lord, what should we do?"

Vayu crossed his arms, the wind swirling around him. "Yes, since you are here, we trust that everything will be fine. But if not, we should leave at once!"

The Devas exhibited their anxious nature when they met dangerous asuras, their panic intensifying by the moment. Indra surveyed the approaching army. His eyes glimmered like the sun, growing brighter with determination.

Look at that formation! So many Asuras!

This isn't good! Indra looked resolute as he took a step forward, tilting his head slightly to address Vishnu.

"Lord Vishnu we can't defeat Hiranyaksha as he has the boon from Trimurti Brahma but can you at least take down the other Asuras? Lord Vishnu, can you use the Sudarshana Chakra against them!"

--

Chapter Text

"Use the Sudarshana Chakra on the Asura legions!" Indra declared solemnly.

As soon as the words left his lips, a look of hesitation crossed Vishnu's visage. His eyes swept over the vast army of Asuras, and he appeared troubled by the decision, letting out a long sigh.

"Isn't that a bit extreme?" Vishnu questioned. How could he justify the slaughter of hundreds of thousands of Asuras without hesitation?

"This is not extreme at all!" Indra replied, shaking his head. "As soldiers, they are not at fault, but they serve Hiranyaksha in his tyranny, acting out of greed. They are nothing more than warriors who cannot uphold Dharma!"

He continued, "Moreover, Hiranyaksha can overpower many Devas on his own. If these Asuras are eliminated, he might retreat and regroup!"

At that moment, the Devas began to understand. Enlightenment sparked among them, and they rallied in support.

"Yes, it would be magnificent if we could rid ourselves of these Asuras!" Surya exclaimed, his eyes sparkling with enthusiasm.

"Indeed! Then Svarga will be secure! The Bhuloka will bask in peace!" Varuna chimed in, nodding eagerly.

"What a brilliant plan! Truly worthy of the King of Svarga!" Vayu added, his voice rising in excitement.

It all made sense. These Asuras were not nearly as powerful as Hiranyaksha. Some were not much different from the Devas, while many others were on the same level as the Gandharva.

If Vishnu were to take action now and eliminate the Asura armies, it would render Hiranyaksha's boon and threat meaningless.

Upon hearing this, Vishnu lowered his head, contemplating the idea with a thoughtful expression. This argument truly made sense! He had never held much affection for the Asuras; after all, they were descendants of Brahma and not his followers. However, as he considered their plight, his heart began to stir.

Yet, he quickly realized that this was not the course of action he should take. The current was the first Yuga, Satya yuga at the dawn of creation, a time when all living beings were flourishing across the Triloka, teeming with vitality and competition.

The Satya Yuga would last for 1,728,000 years! If he were to eliminate most of the Asuras, their karmic birthright would disrupt the world's balance, causing it to leap from the Perfect Era, effectively skipping a crucial period of growth from childhood to maturity.

The karmic repercussions could be so severe that even Shiva might personally intervene to stop him. He couldn't allow that to happen! Vishnu contemplated his thoughts and shook his head immediately.

Indra couldn't help but feel disappointed at this response. He wanted to see a river of blood!

In the Mahabharata, the era of satya yuga had long since passed. Vishnu took the avatar of Krishna, igniting the war between the Pandavas and the Kuru tribe. A staggering 2.7 million soldiers gathered in the plains of Kuru, ready to slaughter one another in the Battle of Kurukshetra.

At that time, Krishna had urged Arjuna to engage in battle, declaring that those who did not uphold dharma must be eliminated.

Kill, kill!

As a result, the two sides clashed, blood spilling across the Kuru fields.

"!!!" Rishi Shukracharya couldn't help but gasp.

Indra was truly ruthless! Both the Devas and the Asuras were sons of Kashyapa Rishi, yet here was Indra, insisting that Vishnu eliminate most of the Asuras. The notion was not only extreme but also potentially disastrous.

How terrifying!

"Teacher, what should we do now?" Vajrananga, an Asura and also a son of Kashyapa, turned to Rishi Shukracharya beside him.

They were belligerent but not foolish! With one of the Trimurti aligned against them, if Vishnu truly followed through, wouldn't it spell their doom?

Shukracharya's eyes darkened slightly as he contemplated Hiranyaksha's fury. At that moment, Hiranyaksha was seething with anger, glaring at Vishnu as if ready to attack.

If we act now, it could spell disaster if Vishnu discovers the weakness granted by Brahma's boon on Hiranyaksha, Shukracharya thought to himself.

Taking a step forward, he flew to Hiranyaksha's side and addressed Vishnu. "I propose a temporary truce to churn the Kshira Sagara and restore the powers of both the Devas and the Asuras," he declared.

As soon as he spoke, Hiranyaksha's eyes widened in dissatisfaction, fixing an intense stare on Rishi Shukracharya. Shukracharya met his gaze with a cold, unyielding expression, as hard as ice.

Hiranyaksha narrowed his eyes, snorted disdainfully, and turned away, falling silent.

"Agreed!" Vishnu replied with a slight nod. A golden light emanated from his body before vanishing.

Rishi Shukracharya sighed in relief. He had genuinely feared that Vishnu might take matters into his own hands. Vishnu was known as the slayer of Asuras, having vanquished not just a few, but eight hundred of them. The animosity between him and Vishnu stemmed from the time Vishnu had used the Sudarshana Chakra to eliminate his Asura kin.

Now, Shukracharya shifted his gaze to the Devas. The Devas were completely unaccustomed to the cold, hard expression on Shukracharya's face.

The Suryadev turned his head, staring at the huge white waves of the Kshira Sagara. Agnidev, glanced nervously from side to side, avoiding eye contact with anyone. Vayudev, regarded Rishi Shukracharya with a cautious demeanor, while Varunadev, lowered his head in a daze.

Indra observed Shukracharya with curiosity. If he remembered correctly, in the future, Rishi Shukracharya would perform penance to Lord Shiva and acquire the Sanjeevani mantra to resurrect the Asuras, thereby confronting the immortal Devas with Amrita. Later on, despite any failures Asura Kings faced, Shukracharya would guide a new wave of attacks against the Devas.

This old man is quite formidable and will never give up! Indra mused. In comparison, Rishi Brihaspati, the mentor to the Devas, seemed to lack the same resolution in dealing with Asuras. Ironically, both Rishis shared a strong bond, considering each other good friends.

As Rishi Shukracharya and Indra locked eyes, their gazes met in the void for a brief moment. Finally, Shukracharya shifted his focus to Rishi Brihaspati. He snorted disdainfully, withdrawing his gaze, and turned to Hiranyaksha.

"Indra, the King of Svarga, is not easy to deal with right now. You'd better be cautious," he warned.

Hiranyaksha sneered confidently. "Rest assured! My boon is invincible. Not even the weapons of Trimuti, let alone the King of Svarga, can lay a finger on me." His tone dripped with arrogance.

Snort!

Hearing this, Rishi Shukracharya let out a cold snort. "You are far too arrogant, and sooner or later, you will fall to their hands!" With that, Rishi Shukracharya chose not to say more; his priority was to protect the remaining Asuras. With Vishnu now involved as his avatar Kurma was carrying the Mandara mountain, enshrining Goddess Lakshmi in Patala Loka out of question! It was better to seize the Amrita while they still had the chance.

As he contemplated this, a massive wave suddenly surged from the Kshira Sagara. Giant wings darkened the sky as a golden-winged eagle swept across the waters. Many Gandharva and the legion of Devas perched on the back of the magnificent creature, wielding divine spears and bows, exchanging glances with one another from a distance.

"The legions of Devas are finally here!" Indra observed the divine host, but his heart remained uneasy.

Even after churning countless treasures from the Kshira Sagara, a fierce battle still loomed between the Asuras and the Devas—a dangerous prospect indeed. And that wasn't even the worst of it! A terrifying poison was sure to be released from the depths of the Kshira Sagara.

Halahala!

"I must be careful!" Indra thought.

---

Sanjeevani Mantra is a powerful and sacred mantra in Hinduism believed to possess the ability to restore life and vitality. The word "Sanjeevani" comes from the Sanskrit root "Sanjeev," which means "to revive" or "to restore life.

--

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Chapter Text

Halahala!

This is the poison of death, an extremely toxic substance. As soon as it emerges in the Kshira Sagara, it spreads rapidly in all directions. Even a mere touch, as small as a mustard seed from Mount Sumeru, can lead to death for both Devas and Asuras alike. This poison is so potent that it can be considered the antithesis of Amrita.

If Amrita grants eternal life, then Halahala brings instant death—two sides of the same coin.

"Except for with the power of divine boons from Trimurti, resisting the poison of Halahala is nearly impossible."

Indra instinctively lowered his gaze. As he looked down, he noticed the Sahasrakavacha adorning his powerful frame. The armor shimmered like dawn light, radiating a gentle warmth. Blessed by Brahma, this divine armor was immune to curses.

"This armor can harness the power of penance to enhance its properties," Indra contemplated. His Sahasrakavacha was a special boon from Brahmadev, capable of transforming into a divine layer fortified by the strength of his penance.

Thanks to Brahmadev's blessing, Indra could infuse this armor with power, perhaps akin to the proud Asuras, making it resistant to damage that would typically take thousands of years of effort to overcome. Yet, it remained ineffective against poison.

"Perhaps I can use my ascetic power to render the poison harmless—or even absorb it. However, the strength of my penance is still lacking; I have three hundred years of penance left to complete! This will be a daunting challenge," Indra thought.

He felt a wave of the hard-earned power he had accumulated and found himself momentarily speechless. After dedicating hundreds of years to rigorous penance in the Svarga, he had been forced to expend much of that energy to curse Garuda. Now, he was left with only three hundred years of hard work!

However, the power of his penance continued to grow slowly, indicating that his efforts had not ceased.

"Three hundred years?" he mused. "So, I spent less than five hundred years of hard work to successfully curse Garuda. This must be a consequence of his karma for provoking me, but my penance is of high quality!" Indra, the King of Heaven, murmured to himself.

As he contemplated this, Garuda had already approached Indra, and numerous Devas leaped down together, landing on the surface of the Kshira Sagara like dumplings. They brandished divine weapons and glared defiantly at the Asura army across the way.

At that moment, Mandara Mountain rose and fell dramatically. The divine turtle Kurma gracefully shifted on all four legs, slowly sinking.

Vishnu, the preserver, appeared like the sun descending from Svarga, his form radiant with golden light as he stood before the gathered Devas and the formidable Asura army.

Vishnu addressed them with a calm, powerful voice. "Sage Durvasa, known both for his blessings and his wrath, once held a garland infused with the essence of Shree—the goddess of wealth, fortune, and prosperity. This garland was not merely an ornament but a sacred embodiment of Lakshmi's blessings."

He paused, letting the weight of his words settle over the assembly, then continued, his tone steady and certain. "But there is still hope. The treasures of the universe now rest within the Kshira Sagara, where Lakshmi herself awaits. With her lies the restoration of all prosperity and fortune. Yet, to retrieve her, you must work together."

Vishnu's gaze swept across both the devas and asuras, his voice resonant with promise. "By joining forces to churn the Kshira Sagara, you may bring forth Lakshmi once more, and with her return, abundance, fortunes, and blessings of Svarga, Pataloka, and Bhuloka shall be restored to all."

Hiranyaksha swayed slightly, narrowing his eyes as he fixed his gaze on Vishnu. "Then how do we churn it? This Mandara Mountain is enormous! Even I can't shift it a few times. What use is a bunch of little powerless bugs?"

At his words, the faces of the Asura army darkened, but none dared to speak. The Devas, however, were furious. How dare this Hiranyaksha be so arrogant as to refer to them as bugs? It was truly insulting.

Suryadev's eyes blazed as he spoke, "If I unleashed the true power of the sun, I would incinerate him to nothing but ash with divine fire!"

Vayudev's voice was as sharp as the wind itself. "One strike of my divine winds, and his flesh would be scattered like dust!"

Varuna, the god of oceans, sneered. "Let him face my waves. I'll drag him to the ocean depths, where no life breathes."

Agnidev's gaze was deadly, his tone unwavering. "One spark of my flames, and he'd be nothing but cinders, his soul sent directly to Yama's realm."

With Vishnu standing before them and the army of Devas behind, the Devas felt emboldened and began to voice their indignation.

Vishnu stood before the assembly, his presence radiating calm confidence, unfazed by Hiranyaksha's disdainful sneer. With a gentle smile, he began, "Allow me to introduce Vasuki, the great king of Nagas."

Suddenly, above the Kshira Sagara, boundless waves rolled, and endless foam surged forth, revealing sections of dark bodies floating upon the surface of the milk ocean.

A massive form loomed in the Kshira Sagara, rising and falling with each movement. Every time a section of the body emerged, it revealed countless black scales, resembling towering mountains—long and imposing.

"Vasuki is no ordinary naga; he embodies both strength and grace, capable of binding Mandara Mountain with effortless ease," Vishnu continued, gesturing toward the magnificent serpent.

"His mighty coils will serve as the rope for the Samudra Manthan, enabling the devas and asuras to churn the Kshira Sagara and retrieve the treasures hidden within. With Vasuki's power, we can achieve the impossible. My Avatar, Kuruma, will ensure that Mandara Mountain remains firmly in place above the ocean."

Boom!

The little brother of Sheshanaga, Vasuki, erupted from the depths of the water, and the Kshira Sagara roared in response. The surface of the sea shook violently, sending countless wisps of sea fog into the air, making it difficult to see the creature's true form.

"I will obey the Vishnu's command!" Vasuki declared, his voice echoing like thunder. As the powerful sound resonated, the sea fog began to dissipate.

In the sky, Vasuki rose majestically, his fearsome head blocking out the sun. His eyes, shimmering like distant stars, radiated immense power and ancient wisdom. With a fluid motion, he coiled his massive body around Mandara Mountain, anchoring himself securely as he prepared to assist in the grand churning of the ocean.

Suddenly, Vishnu transformed into a radiant golden light and descended before Indra and the other Devas.

"The Asuras are arrogant and distrustful!" he proclaimed. "Next, if you approach the head of Vasuki, the Asuras will surely request to exchange places with you. Agree to their request. When the Kshira Sagara is stirred, Vasuki will experience pain from the tugging on both sides, causing him to spit poisonous flames that will injure the Asuras—bringing them to their knees in misery."

Vishnu whispered these strategic instructions, his demeanor calm and composed.

Upon hearing this, the Devas were filled with surprise and joy. Their Lord was indeed aiding them!

"When the time comes, these Asuras will be exhausted and severely wounded, rendering them unable to fight for Amrita. The Devas will surely prevail," Suryadev exclaimed, excitement evident in his voice.

"Thank you, Lord Vishnu!" echoed the others, their voices full of gratitude.

Agnidev, equally filled with joy, raised his voice in appreciation. "Your wisdom shines brightly, O Lord! We are truly grateful for your guidance!"

Indra, with hands folded in reverence, began to think carefully. If he recalled correctly, it would take hundreds of years to churn the Kshira Sagara—just enough time for him to practice diligently and forge the first layer of divine armor. This would prove useful when the moment arrived.

The location of Vasuki's head was advantageous! It could spray flames to ignite a fire and hold it on the head, thereby enhancing the strength of his penance.

Indra rolled his eyes slightly and then spoke. "Let's go to the snake tail! As a warrior, even if they are Asuras, I believe I should be fair. Waiting for them to be burned by Vasuki's flames before engaging in battle is beneath my dignity as a warrior."

Vishnu raised an eyebrow, surprised. "..."

That's not what you said before! It was clear that Indra had asked him to eliminate all the Asuras not long ago, but now he was talking about fairness! What a flexible moral compass!

"The Devas are weak. Only by weakening the Asuras as much as possible can the Devas hope to win!" Vishnu stated slowly.

"A Kshatriya must die a Kshatriya's death. I would rather die as a warrior than live as a coward!" Indra declared. He paused, realizing he might have gone too far. He only wanted to conserve energy for his penance; he didn't truly wish to die!

"Pranam to Lord Vishnu! I hope the Lord bless me!" Indra folded his hands in reverence and praised Vishnu.

Vishnu regarded Indra, hesitating for a moment before finally nodding in agreement.

Nailed it! Seeing this exchange, Indra breathed a sigh of relief and then soared toward the snake's tail. The vast armies of Devas followed his lead, moving in unison.

"Ah?!" Suryadev stood frozen, his mouth agape, visibly shocked by Indra's bold declaration. "Brother, why are you becoming so unpredictable? One moment, you speak of massacring the entire Asura clan, and the next, you seek to be honored as a Kshatriya."

---

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Chapter Text

"Is this really what Indra is like?" Vayudev murmured, excitement evident in his tone as he broke the silence. As the Deva of the wind, Vayudev was the vanguard of the Devas, their leading general, and had a close bond with Indra, the Deva of war. They understood each other well, but Vayudev hadn't expected Indra to be so eager to charge into battle with the Asura King.

"I'm on my way!" Vayudev declared, rushing forward without hesitation. Suryadev gave a resigned sigh, exchanging a look with Agnidev. They both shook their heads, then followed Vayudev's lead toward the Vasuki's tail. Varunadev watched in surprise, feeling torn. He wanted to approach the Vasuki's head, but seeing all the other Devas heading for the tail made him reluctant to go the opposite way. Glancing nervously at the distant Asura army, he swallowed his hesitation and joined the others at the tail.

Meanwhile, Hiranyaksha's voice rang out. "Let's head for the Vasuki's head!" He gestured forward, eager to seize the treasures waiting to be churned from the Kshira Sagara.

"Wait!" General Puloman, an Asura clad in gleaming golden armor, raised his hand. His stature was imposing, his armor radiant like the morning sun, and his voice resounded with authority. "They chose the Vasuki's tail far too easily. I suspect a scheme. I propose we switch places with the Devas—they should go to the Vasuki's head, and we'll take the tail."

Puloman narrowed his eyes, scrutinizing the Devas in the distance, deep in thought. His words caught the attention of Rishi Shukracharya, the Asura mentor, who frowned, a spark of calculation flickering in his wise gaze.

"He's right," Shukracharya said thoughtfully. "With Vasuki wrapped tightly around Mandara Mountain, pulling back and forth will surely cause the Vasuki pain. He'll breathe fire, and it's our army that would suffer the burn. We must exchange places with the Devas."

Upon hearing Rishi Shukracharya's analysis, many Asuras suddenly understood the potential dangers. Hiranyaksha, however, scoffed and waved dismissively.

"It's just Vasuki venom and fire—are Asura warriors afraid of such things?" he sneered, glancing around at the gathering. Pullman, who had initially raised concerns, fell silent. Rishi Shukracharya's face grew long, his expression darkening by the moment.

Asura General Viprachitti hesitated but finally stepped forward. "My son, Rahu, is skilled in the art of Maya. Perhaps he could disguise himself as a Deva and investigate the situation discreetly."

"Unnecessary!" Hiranyaksha barked, his eyes blazing and his beard bristling. With a dismissive wave, he rejected Viprachitti's suggestion. "As long as I lead, these Devas stand no chance! I am King of the Asuras—even Vishnu cannot defeat me. I am victory itself; I am radiance incarnate! Just follow my orders."

With that, Hiranyaksha gestured grandly and commanded the Asura army to advance to Vasuki's head.

"Stop this madness, Hiranyaksha! If you continue down this path, your arrogance will lead to your ruin!" Rishi Shukracharya called out angrily.

"Teacher, I respect you, but that does not grant you the right to interfere with my command," Hiranyaksha replied coldly. "I am King of the Asuras!" He stamped his foot on the waves of the Kshira Sagara, causing them to churn beneath him as he turned and strode away.

Rishi Shukracharya stood in silence, his face clouded with frustration, anger seething in his heart.

...

...

"Hm?!" Indra squinted, rubbing his eyes, shading them with his hand as he peered into the distance. He saw the formidable Asura army—like a torrent of dark clouds—flying toward Vasuki's head. Something felt off.

"Wait… isn't this wrong?" he muttered. "Weren't these Asuras supposed to ask us to switch places?"

A broad smile spread across Suryadev's face. "They're heading to the Vasuki's head! That's great!"

"Perfect!" Vayudev added, nodding in relief. Nearby, Agnidev and Varuna exchanged pleased glances, their lips curving into smiles.

This was exactly what they hoped for. With the Asuras at the Vasuki's head, they would bear the brunt of Vasuki's venom and fire.

Indra, however, looked a little disappointed. It seemed he would have to wait to intensify his penance. In theTriloka, the more rigorous one's penance, the greater the power gained. He sighed but resigned himself to being patient. "I'll have to build strength gradually," he thought.

Turning back to his fellow Devas, Indra gazed at Vasuki's vast, rippling scales—each one like a towering peak. With a nod of determination, he transformed into his divine form.

Indra's celestial form loomed as a magnificent golden giant, his limbs radiating power and his eyes blazing like miniature suns. Around him, the Devas transformed as well. Agnidev, shrouded in black, appeared with four arms, three heads, and seven tongues of flame, swathed in a swirling haze of smoke.

Indra took a moment to admire his splendor. "I look more impressive," he nodded approvingly.

He Devas took on various divine forms, while across from them, the Asuras transformed into giants, water monsters, three-headed dragons, and serpents. Surveying the scene, Indra looked down at the massive scales of Vasuki; what once appeared impossibly vast now seemed manageable. He took his position at the left side of Vasuki's tail, gripping it firmly with one hand, steadying himself.

In unison, hundreds of thousands of Devas and Asuras wrapped themselves around the thousand-headed serpent king, Vasuki, and began the great churning.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

Vasuki's immense body coiled around Mount Mandara rolled and flexed as the Devas and Asuras pulled. Anchored by a colossal turtle beneath it, Mount Mandara slowly began to rotate, stirring the depths of the Kshira Sagara, the ocean of milk. Waves surged and crashed as the sea roared, each pull sending tremors through the celestial waters.

Indra, often called the "Lord of Thunder," was incredibly strong, making it easy for him to manage Vasuki's massive tail. But he knew that the churning would last hundreds of years, and by the end, even his formidable strength might be drained. He could feel the accumulated power of his ascetic practice within, pulsing like thunder under his navel, rising with every effort.

"The power of my penance is growing!" Indra's eyes gleamed with renewed determination. He wrapped his arms tightly around Vasuki's tail and pulled with all his might, emboldened by the knowledge that every moment of labor would enhance his power—a reward earned through pure endurance and grit.

The Devas around him watched, awe-struck by his commitment. Inspired by their Heavenly King's strength and dedication, they redoubled their efforts, eager to keep pace.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

Hundreds of thousands of Devas strained in unison, pulling with all their might on Vasuki's massive tail. For a moment, Mandara Mountain shifted ever so slightly in the Devas' direction.

"How is this possible?!" Hiranyaksha's eyes blazed with fury. He whipped around to face the ranks of Asuras behind him, his expression fierce. "Put in more effort! Can't you even out-pull those Devas?" he bellowed.

The Asuras, visibly shaken, nodded in fear and redoubled their efforts, gripping Vasuki's head and pulling with renewed urgency. Hiranyaksha, undeterred, locked one of Vasuki's heads under his arm and gave a fierce tug.

Roar! Roar! Roar!

Naga king's head twisted in agony, its face contorted and feral. In its pain, it opened its jaws wide, lashing its tongue and unleashing a torrent of searing flames and venomous breath directly toward Hiranyaksha. "So soon?!"

---

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Chapter Text

Blazing fire from Vasuki's mouth surged toward Hiranyaksha's face, the searing heat evaporating sea mist into the air. Flames struck the Asura king's head, swirling around him but leaving him unscathed. Instead, his hair seemed to grow darker and shinier under the fiery glow. With Brahma's blessing, even Vasuki's flames could not harm Hiranyaksha.

Hiranyaksha shook his head, brushed aside the flames with a cold snort, and glared intensely at Vasuki's head.

Vasuki: "..."

What? Useless?

The Nagas also resided in Patalloka, though they were not as powerful as the Asuras. Vasuki, however, had other plans—he wanted to "educate" these Asuras. Tilting his head, his large eyes glimmered with mischief, blinking innocently. His dark, forked tongue flickered in and out, almost as if mocking the Asuras.

Suddenly, Vasuki's mouth opened wide, releasing thick black smoke that shrouded Hiranyaksha, obscuring his vision from every angle. If he couldn't hurt Hiranyaksha, he'd at least throw him off balance and distract him.

"Undermining Asuras on propose!" Hiranyaksha roared, unable to contain his fury. He swung a powerful punch at Vasuki's head, landing a blow that sent the snake reeling in pain. Vasuki hissed furiously, no longer playing around.

This was war.

Hissing in unison, seven of Vasuki's heads reared back, mouths wide open, and unleashed torrents of flames. The fire spread like molten lava, weaving through the Kshira Sagara and igniting the divine waters. The flames licked at Asura's bodies, sending them into frenzied screams of agony.

"It's too hot! Too hot!"

Holika yelped, immediately releasing the snake's body she had been holding. She leaped back, hiding behind Vajranga, who was trying to shield himself.

"This Vasuki fire is powerful," Vajranga muttered, his tone tense. "It can hurt us—everyone, be careful! Don't underestimate him after all he is King of the Nagas."

At that moment, Holika felt a sharp, searing pain on the right side of her face, an uncomfortable mix of heat and itchiness. Quickly, she summoned her divine power to extinguish the flames around her body, and a mirror materialized in her hands. Gazing into it, she saw several burn marks marring her skin—small, pimple-like scars that looked painfully out of place on her beautiful face.

"Aah! My face!" she cried, her expression shifting to one of horror. Panicked, she covered her face with trembling hands, feeling an urgent need to erase the blemishes.

Channeling her remaining divine power, she attempted to heal the scars, but they remained stubbornly in place, untouched by her efforts. Her heart sank as her frustration turned to anger.

Holika lifted her chin, glaring at the colossal, fire-spitting Vasuki with a mix of anger, resentment, and a trace of fear. The terror within held her back, preventing her from retaliating directly. Inwardly, she vowed to one day restore her appearance and seek a boon that would render her invulnerable to fire.

...

The Asuras clashed fiercely with Vasuki, while the Devas grew increasingly empowered.

Vasuki's massive tail swayed rhythmically, stirring the Kshira Sagara, whose waves transformed into dark clouds and fell as fragrant, invigorating rain, filling the Devas with renewed energy. In this constant push and pull, the turtle moved, causing Mandara Mountain to shift closer toward the Deva side.

Noticing this, Rishi Shukraacharya struck his staff on the ocean floor and shouted angrily, "Enough! Hold them back! If Mandara Mountain moves any closer to the Devas, they will gain everything, and you will be left with nothing!"

Shukraacharya's words jolted the Asuras into action. Hiranyaksha's eyes flared with anger as he turned his attention back to Vasuki, ignoring the Naga's fiery resistance. He seized Vasuki's neck, pulling it back with all his might. The other Asuras, though suffering from the scorching Vasuki flames, tightened their grip on the serpent's body, channeling their divine power to shield themselves from the heat as they struggled to hold their ground.

Years slipped by in this relentless tug of war. After five hundred years, a colossal vortex began to form beneath Mandara Mountain, and the Kshira Sagara thickened, its waters transforming from the fluidity of the ocean to the viscosity of honey, rich and golden. The stirring grew more arduous with every moment as if the very essence of the ocean was solidifying, resisting their every effort.

Both the Devas and Asuras were tense, knowing that the Samundra Manthan of Kshira Sagara was nearing completion.

Indra, too, was fully immersed in the churning. His accumulated ascetic power had grown for eight hundred years, and with another two hundred, he would finally amass a thousand years' worth of penance, unlocking the first layer of his Sahasrakavacha.

With unwavering focus, he continued his efforts, fully absorbed in the monumental task before him.

Above the vast, swirling Kshira Sagara, a sudden flash of light split the horizon. From the milky depths shot a radiant beam of golden light.

Whoosh!

The golden ray soared skyward, illuminating everything in its path before unveiling a figure of dazzling beauty—Goddess Lakshmi herself.

Vishnu's face broke into a joyful smile; Brahma exhaled in relief; Shiva watched quietly, a soft smile touching his lips. The Devas erupted in celebration.

"Devi Lakshmi has appeared! Our power will be returning soon!"

"With the Goddess of Wealth, the prosperity of Svarga follows close behind!"

"Wonderful!"

Their excitement rippled through the Swarga residents, while even the Asuras observed in awe. Hiranyaksha narrowed his eyes, gazing thoughtfully at Lakshmi from afar, his expression unreadable.

Goddess Lakshmi radiated ethereal beauty, her rose-tinted lips curving into a serene smile. Dressed in a flowing red saree with golden edges, her skin shimmered like moonlight. With four graceful arms, she held blooming lotus flowers in two hands, a golden vessel in a third, and offered a gesture of blessing with her fourth, embodying prosperity, purity, and divine protection.

Whoosh!

Golden rays poured from her blessing hand, spreading throughout the universe and bathing the Devas and Asuras alike in its warm glow.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

A mighty surge of energy awakened as the Devas felt their powers reigniting.

"Ah!" Indra stirred, feeling the change within himself. Beneath Devi Lakshmi's radiant light, his strength blossomed anew, waves of energy rising from deep within.

The essence of all living beings flows through three Nadi (Chanells) and seven chakras:

The three Nadi: Ida Nadi, Pingala Nadi, and the Sushumna Nadi.

The seven chakras, ascending from the base, are the Muladhara (Root Chakra), Svadhisthana (Sacral Chakra), Manipura (Solar Plexus Chakra), Anahata (Heart Chakra), Vishuddha (Throat Chakra), Ajna (Third Eye Chakra), and the Sahasrara (Crown Chakra).

Among the three Nadis, the Ida Nadi, which is the left channel, is associated with lunar energy, representing the feminine, cooling, and intuitive aspects of the mind. The Pingala Nadi, the right channel, represents solar energy, symbolizing the masculine, dynamic, and active aspects of life. The foundation of all divine energy begins with the Sushumna Nadi, the central energy channel, which runs along the spine from the base (Root Chakra) to the crown (Crown Chakra).

Emerging from the root chakra, these three Nadi spiral upward, weaving through each of the seven chakras in a flow of continuous energy. The root chakra, also known as kundalini, gathers all energy—whether sourced from within or drawn from the universe itself.

Boom!

At that moment, Indra sensed a surge of boundless energy stirring just below his navel. His life force pulsed vigorously, but it wasn't just his internal strength—energies of faith and devotion streamed in from the realms of heaven and earth, converging within him. These forces, powerful and wild like dragons and serpents, burst forth from the root chakra, intertwining within the three Nadi and rising with intense heat toward the navel chakra above.

The navel chakra, seat of emotion and source of divine fire, acted as a vortex, pulling in all the gathered power from the root chakra. Spiraling upward, the vortex burned with intensity, mirroring the churning of the Kshira Sagara, refining and transforming raw energy into divine power. Pure streams of divine power flowed steadily from this vortex, ascending with a focused brilliance.

Indra felt a surge of heat and swelling in his lower abdomen, his power increasing continuously. Divine energy coursed upward, flowing into the abdominal chakra through the three Nadi. The abdominal chakra governs will and embodies divinity itself. As the divine power settled there, it transformed into a cascade of lightning—manifesting Indra's essence as the Deva of thunder and lightning.

Within Indra's abdominal chakra, bolts of lightning crackled fiercely, each one like a small storm contained within him. The thunder roared as if echoing from the heavens, and the skies above the Milky Ocean mirrored this intensity. Black clouds rolled in, and serpentine streaks of lightning danced through them, illuminating the scene with a blinding, divine brilliance.

Rumble!

A lightning bolt shot down, striking Indra and enveloping him in a radiant glow. The lightning within him surged, rushing upward toward the heart chakra. The heart chakra represents control and serves as the vessel for the divine body. With this power, Indra's entire being shone with an immense radiance, his form expanding in stature, his skin gleaming and unbreakable, like celestial iron. Divine power, divine fire, divinity, and his divine body were now fully restored.

Around him, one by one, the Devas were regaining their strength, each reborn with their unique essence and power. Yet, Indra's transformation was not complete—he was the Deva of thunder, the ruler of Svaraga, the eldest son of Aditi.

With eyes blazing like twin suns, Indra raised his gaze toward the heavens. A surge of lightning coursed through him, climbing the path of the three Nadis. It traveled upward, its energy intensifying as it reached the Throat Chakra, the seat of creation itself, where the essence of the divine realm dwelled.

Chapter Text

A column of golden lightning erupted from Indra's body, splitting the sky and clouds as it surged upward toward the Svarga. Almost simultaneously, the throat chakras of other Devas—Vayudev, Agni, Varuna, and Suryadev—flared to life. The wind column, fire column, water column, and light column followed, racing toward the Svargaloka.

Swoosh! Swoosh! Swoosh!

The light columns, brimming with the power of the chief Devas, shot upward, joining Indra's lightning column. Indra's lightning reached the Svarga first, exploding upon impact. The lightning danced like dragons and Snakes, crackling as it struck at the very center of the divine realm.

In the heart of the explosion, an immense and indescribable city materialized amidst the lightning.

This city, Amaravati, spanned 2,500 yojanas on each side and rose one and a half yojanas high. Its vast, flat expanse stood as a gleaming testament to divine craftsmanship. The city walls, made of radiant gold, emanated an ethereal glow. A thousand gates, each facing a different direction, were adorned with pearls, conch shells, corals, and lush trees. White clouds floated gracefully at ground level, creating the sensation of walking on a luxurious brocade.

Amaravati was the dwelling place of Indra, the lord of the Svarga.

Not far behind, the palaces of the wind, fire, water, and sun Devas rumbled into existence, rising alongside the divine columns of their respective elements. Wind, fire, and water surged and spread throughout the Svarga, each element blessing the power of the Devas with its divine might.

"Indra's power is coming back!"

Indra felt the surge of energy coursing through his body. His heart raced, his blood boiled, and he couldn't help but mutter in awe.

The Svarga was the domain of the Devas, but it was also the domain of the King of Svarga. While the Devas—Vayu, Agni, Varuna, and Surya—had divided the Svarga into their respective divine realms, the entire expanse ultimately belonged to Indra, the ruler of all.

Lightning flashed in Indra's eyes as he felt a tremor ripple through his mind.

Power.

The power of the entire Svarga flowed through him. It was overwhelming, too powerful to fully grasp.

As Indra reveled in his newfound strength, his senses sharpened.

Meanwhile, Hiranyaksha's eyes opened wide with excitement, his beard curling in eager anticipation as his body trembled with renewed vigor. The power of the earth surged through him, completely restoring him to his peak. As the Asura King, he now had the strength to shake the very foundations of the world. Combined with the divine blessings he had received, he was nearly unstoppable.

"I am invincible!" Hiranyaksha declared, his voice thunderous. His gaze locked onto Indra, and a wild grin split his face as he laughed with manic excitement.

"Hahaha! Let me test the power of the Svarga and see what you're truly made of, Lord of the Svarga!"

With a roar of laughter, Hiranyaksha took a step forward. His massive body covered thousands of miles in an instant, and a colossal golden hammer descended from the sky, aimed directly at Indra.

A terrifying aura filled the air, and Indra instinctively extended his hand, his fingers splayed wide.

In a flash of golden light, a Vajra materialized in his grasp. Violent lightning crackled and surged across the weapon's surface, bursting with destructive energy like the very fire of the Svarga.

Boom!

When the two forces collided, a shockwave of unimaginable power erupted. The air trembled, and even the fabric of space seemed to crack under the strain.

After the initial clash, the aftershock made Indra's wrist numb, but it also cleared his mind. He stood ready for what was to come next.

"Hiss!"

Indra couldn't help but inhale sharply. With the power of the Svarga coursing through him, he felt nearly invincible, ready to charge at Hiranyaksha Ashura and engage in combat. But the power from Svarga couldn't compare with the boon of Trimurti Brahma.

As soon as his mind cleared, Indra swiftly retreated, feigning defeat as he withdrew back toward the Devas.

Hiranyaksha, sensing his victory, raised his hand and pointed at the retreating Indra, a sneer curling across his lips. "Is this all the power of the Lord of Svarga?" he mocked, shaking his head. "After churning the Kshira Sgara, I will return to fight you in the Svarga. Just wait!"

With that, he turned and walked away, his laughter echoing.

Surya, basking in his golden radiance, raised his left hand with a graceful yet arrogant air. "Once Soma returns, and we drink his Soma rasa, these Asuras will be no match for us!" he declared, his golden attire gleaming brilliantly as he walked with a regal swagger.

The darkness that had once clung to him had receded, leaving him with a striking appearance: handsome, adorned in golden garments, and exuding an undeniable arrogance in every step.

"Yes," added Vayu who wore a golden hoop and light armor, his posture noble and confident. "Once Soma is here, our divine power will be strengthened!"

Agni and Varuna stood nearby, both restored to their former glory. Clad in golden armor and jeweled ornaments, their radiance shone brightly as they nodded in agreement.

Indra remained silent, his thoughts deep in contemplation.

Soma was the Deva of wine and the moon. His name was synonymous with the potent beverage that, when consumed by the Devas, significantly increased their strength, boosting their divine power and doubling their combat abilities.

But...

Indra knew that, in comparison to the divine boon, the power gained from drinking Soma was feeble. The true strength lay not in the drink, but in the divine favor bestowed upon them.

Soma's power, while useful, had become outdated. The new generation understood that boons were the true path to greater strength. The ship that once carried Soma had long since sailed.

Boons were the true answer, the key to achieving ultimate power.

"From this perspective, the Devas are conservatives, and the Asuras are the reformists!" Indra couldn't help but reflect, his mind running wild with thought.

At that moment, a radiant cascade of beams of light descended from the Sky, illuminating the world below. From within the celestial glow, Lord Vishnu appeared beside Goddess Lakshmi, his face adorned with a gentle, knowing smile. As he stood by her side, Lakshmi, the Goddess of Wealth, gazed at him with profound affection, her eyes reflecting the timeless bond they shared. In a gesture of sacred devotion, she lovingly adorned him with a varmala—a garland of divine flowers, symbolizing their eternal union.

It was as though the very cosmos had conspired to honor this celestial marriage, a union that transcended all realms and time. In that fleeting, yet infinite moment, the divine couple exchanged a glance filled with love and promise before vanishing together, leaving behind a sense of peace and blessings that made Asuras and Devas happy and jealous.

Seeing this, Hiranyaksha snorted coldly, his face tightening with displeasure. His mission to the Kshira Sagara had been to capture Goddess Lakshmi and enshrine her in Patalaloka, but now she had been taken by Vishnu once again, just as he had finally managed to bring her out. His fists clenched, and his anger flared.

Just then, the Asura general Viprachitti approached Hiranyaksha.

"King, it wasn't just Goddess Lakshmi who emerged just now," Viprachitti reported. "Another Goddess has appeared as well."

"We've located another goddess!" he added.

"This Goddess was recently born. There wasn't much of a disturbance when she emerged, but we found her."

Viprachitti's words caught the attention of the surrounding Asuras, and their eyes lit up with interest. Goddess Lakshmi had followed Vishnu, leaving the Devas empty-handed. But now, they had found another Goddess.

"Good fortune!" Hiranyaksha murmured.

Rishi Shukracharya furrowed his brow, sensing something unusual about this new Goddess.

Hiranyaksha, on the other hand, was ecstatic. "Bring her here, quickly!" he ordered eagerly.

"Yes, King!" Viprachitti responded and sped off. Before long, he returned with the Goddess in tow.

Hiranyaksha's expression shifted as he examined the Goddess. He frowned, confusion clouding his thoughts. The Goddess stood before him in tattered clothing, her hair wild and unkempt. Her appearance was unsettling—her feet were shaped like those of an antelope, her eyes like the unblinking gaze of a goldfish, and her thick, twisted lips were sharp like the teeth of a bull. Nothing about her seemed divine, yet the potent surge of divine energy emanating from her form made Hiranyaksha pause—doubting, but unable to ignore the unmistakable aura of her true nature.

Goddess Lakshmi was a vision of glory, so why did this one appear so ragged and unattractive?

After a long silence, Hiranyaksha finally asked, "Devi... what is your name?"

The unattractive Goddess spoke slowly, her voice rough and grating, like the sound of metal scraping against stone.

"Jyestha," she said, her tone almost like a whisper.

Hiranyaksha crossed his arms, deep in thought. This Goddess, Jyestha, may not be as beautiful as Lakshmi, but being born alongside Lakshmi, the Goddess of Wealth, surely there is some connection between them. Their names are similar too. She must have some significance. We can't let the Devas learn of her—she must be sent away immediately, back to the Patalaloka.

With this decision in mind, he waved his hand, summoning Asura Holika.

"Holika, take this devi back to the Patalaloka at once!" Hiranyaksha commanded.

---

Jyestha otherwise known as Alakshmi, the Goddess of Misfortune, stands as the shadow of Lakshmi, the Goddess of Wealth and Prosperity. While Lakshmi bestows fortune and abundance, Alakshmi represents the absence of both, embodying misfortune, scarcity, and adversity. She is also the wife of Kali (The embodiment of Kalyuga, the Age of Darkness and Strife.)

 ---

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Chapter Text

Asura Teacher, Rishi Shukraacharya, suddenly interjected.

His white sacrificial robe was impeccably straight, and as he took a step forward, the Naga staff was firmly planted by his side. He clasped his hands together and greeted Devi Alakshmi before him.

"Devi!" he exclaimed. "Please remain here for the time being. Now is the time for various items to rise from Kshira Sagara. We cannot afford to send a single asura back to Pataloloka!" Rishi Shukraacharya spoke with deep conviction, his voice steady and urgent.

"As the Amrita is about to emerge from the churning of the ocean, it is vital that we hold our ground. The Devas have regained their strength, and their forces are once again formidable. Sending one of our strongest warriors, like Holika, to Patalaloka at this moment could lead to irreversible consequences. We need every capable Asura here, ready to claim what is rightfully ours before the Devas can make their move."

Though he felt that Devi Alakshmi and Devi Lakshmi were closely related, like sisters, something about the situation seemed amiss. His wisdom urged caution.

"If we send Devi Alakshmi back to Patalaloka now, I fear something disastrous may occur," he continued. "It would be wiser to keep her with the Asura army for now. I will meditate and, through the power of the Vedas, explore the inner and outer realms to uncover the true identity and authority of the Devi."

At this, Hiranyaksha Asura became restless and could not listen any longer.

"Teacher!" he interrupted.

"With me on the battlefield, I will not be defeated by any Deva. What's more, my brother is about to complete his penance. When that happens, the Trimurti will be powerless against us."

Hiranyaksha clenched his right fist and struck his chest. A thunderous boom echoed as if the very earth itself shook with the immense and boundless power within him.

Having said this, Hiranyaksha ignored Rishi Shukraacharya's warning and waved to Asura Holika.

"Go!" he commanded. "Upon returning to Pataloka, build a temple for the Devi, light the Yajna Agni, offer tributes, and worship her!"

Turning to Devi Alakshmi, Hiranyaksha spoke with sincerity. "I swear by King Asura that from this moment on, the Pataloka shall be your eternal home, Devi!" With open arms, he smiled warmly in welcome to the Devi.

Boom!

The ground trembled slightly, as though the oath of Hiranyaksha was being witnessed by the very trilokas itself.

At the sound, Alakshmi 's once grim face flushed slightly, and a mix of emotions swept over her. Her goldfish-like eyes blinked, feeling a surge of emotion, and she nodded firmly.

"From now on, I will remain in the Underworld!" Alakshmi declared gratefully.

"Hahaha, very well!" Hiranyaksha beamed with pride. "My kingdom needs a Devi like you!"

Rishi Shukraacharya's face remained as rigid as a stone statue. He said nothing, merely turning and walking away.

Thud!

It wasn't enough!

Hiranyaksha, not even bothering to glance at him, turned his head dismissively. This old man had been telling him how to do things for too long. It was clear to him that they had welcomed a Devi and would soon defeat the Devas after churning the Kshira Sagara. Yet, this old man continued to talk back and challenge him.

It was better this way, now that he was gone.

Vajranga's gaze followed Rishi Shukraacharya as he walked away, and he took a step to chase after him. But after that first step, he hesitated. He glanced at his eldest brother, Hiranyaksha, unsure of whether to proceed.

"Well..." he murmured.

"I suppose only a Hiranyakashipu can sway Hiranyaksha, right?" Vajranga couldn't help but sigh, then withdrew his steps.

The Hiranyakashipu was his twin brother. Currently, he was in the Bhuloka, enduring a prolonged penance to Brahma, the creator, and had yet to come to the Kshira Sagara.

"Teacher!"

Puloman, visibly anxious, looked around a few times before quietly flying out, moving with care.

"Puloman!"

Rishi Shukraacharya flew high above the Kshira Sagara, his expression dark as he prepared to return to Earth.

"Teacher! Wait!"

Suddenly, a voice called out from behind him. Could it be that Hiranyaksha had changed his mind?

Shukraacharya froze, slowly turning around. A flicker of disappointment crossed his face when he saw Puloman standing behind him.

"Teacher!" Puloman clasped his hands together and bowed respectfully.

"What's the matter?" Rishi Shukraacharya's face was as stone, his voice deep and steady.

Puloman smiled, looking at Rishi Shukraacharya with respect. "Teacher, Hiranyaksha is arrogant and reckless. I have come to apologize for his rudeness."

Shukraacharya, too tired to entertain pleasantries, narrowed his eyes. Was Puloman here for this?

A joke!

"Stop with the nonsense. What do you actually want? If you don't speak clearly, I'll leave." Shukraacharya snorted coldly.

Puloman visibly stiffened, taking a deep breath before speaking. "I ask, Teacher, that you come to the palace of our Danava clan and guide us in our fight to defeat the Devas."

At this, Shukraacharya's gaze shifted, appraising Puloman carefully. "I know you, Puloman," he said, his voice measured. "You are the son of Danu, the mother of the Danava clan. It seems you've grown quite wise."

The Asuras are generally divided into two branches. One branch is the sons of Diti, known as the Daityas. The other branch is the Sons of Danu, called the Danava.

Puloman's excitement was evident as he quickly clasped his hands together and said, "Thank you..." But before he could finish, Shukraacharya's tone shifted, and a sneer crossed his face.

"Ha, it's a pity you're too weak." Rishi Shukraacharya continued, his voice cold.

"Not only are you no match for Hiranyaksha and the Hiranyakashipu, but can you even defeat the Vajrasna? You can't. Without hard work, you can't even become the king of Asuras let alone Triloka."

He stared at Puloman, delivering each word with measured slowness. Puloman's earlier joy quickly faded, replaced by unease.

"The current Lord of Svarga, Indra, is far too cunning and ruthless," Shukraacharya continued. "Even if you control the Bhuloka and Patalaloka and receive the boons, you still wouldn't stand a chance against Indra. He would destroy you without hesitation. What's worse, he's even stronger and wiser than before."

Puloman's face darkened with frustration.

"You still have tens of thousands of years before you could possibly defeat Indra," Shukraacharya's voice was calm, yet it struck deeply into Puloman's heart. "If this is the mindset you have, you'd be better off focusing your energy on serious penance."

Puloman's face turned from blue to black with anger. His lips trembled, his expression deeply troubled.

"Hiranyaksha is indeed arrogant, but his strength is real, and his dedication to training is even more so. Hiranyakashipu may be stubborn, but his strength is also the result of relentless effort. His hard work will make him even more powerful than Hiranyaksha."

Rishi Shukraacharya paused and looked at Puloman with a critical gaze.

"Almost all of Diti's offspring in your generation are stronger than you. Perhaps you should return, focus on having more children, hope for a better chance, and make your mother proud in the future." Shukraacharya's voice grew colder.

"I'm glad you came to me, but I'm angry that it was for such a reason. You are Danu's son but don't forget Hiranyaksha is your King and brother from father's side. Do you want to go against him?"

"Even if you succeed, you still can't defeat Indra! I advise you to focus on taking care of yourself!" Rishi Shukraacharya had barely finished speaking when Puloman snarled in fury.

"Enough!" His eyes burned scarlet, his beard and hair whipped in a wild frenzy—he was furious. A massive scimitar materialized in his hand, its sharp edge gleaming with menace.

At this point, Puloman had lost all control. Knowing something was one thing, but hearing it spoken aloud was entirely different.

"It's just Indra. If Hiranyaksha can defeat him, so can I! I will conquer the Svarga! I will surely defeat Indra!" he bellowed, his voice filled with fury.

"An old man who only knows how to teach—what do you know of war?" he roared. With a flash of golden light, Puloman swung his scimitar toward Rishi Shukraacharya, his anger boiling over.

But Rishi Shukraacharya's gaze hardened, and an overwhelming aura of power surged from him.

"Presumptuous!" Rishi Shukraacharya's voice rang out like thunder, each word shaking the very air. Puloman staggered back, taken aback by the force of the sage's presence. His chest heaved, and slowly, his fury began to subside.

"Puloman, you dare to attack me? I curse you!" Rishi Shukraacharya's white hair whipped violently around him as his voice echoed with divine fury. "Puloman, everything you hold dear will be taken from you by Indra! You will fall by his hand as well!"

At these words, Puloman froze, his expression turning blank as a cold chill ran through him.

"Something I hold dear?" He muttered, confusion seeping into his mind. "My wealth? My throne? Or... my daughter, Shachi?"

---

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Chapter Text

"Ah-choo!" Indra sneezed violently. He frowned, instinctively raising a hand to rub his nose. Strange, he thought. He was the mighty Lord of Svarga, the Deva of Thunder and Lightning—the sovereign of the celestial realms. Could he be affected by something as trivial as a cold? It was perplexing. Could someone be calling him?

He pondered, then shook his head. As the eldest Deva and ruler of the Svargas, he could hear the prayers of any devotee who built an altar, kindled a Yajna Agni, and called upon him with devotion. But to sneeze at the mere mention of his name—unlikely, unless one had attained extraordinary devotion.

Only by opening the Ajna Chakra, the sixth of the seven chakras, could a Deva be alerted when someone simply spoke his name. The Ajna Chakra, a symbol of wisdom, granted insight and awareness, enabling a Deva to feel even the faintest invocation as a tribute and a source of strength.

This heightened perception was just one gift of the Ajna Chakra. Its greater power lay in helping the Devas endure and overcome divine trials. The entire existence of the universe was divided into four cosmic ages, each representing a distinct phase in the cycle of creation, preservation, and destruction. These ages were: Satya Yuga, the Age of Truth, where righteousness reigned supreme; Treta Yuga, the Age of Three, during which Vishnu incarnated in three avatars to preserve the waning righteousness; Dvapara Yuga, the Age where the last two pillars of humanity—compassion and truthfulness—stood firm; and Kali Yuga, the Age of Strife, marked by moral decay and chaos. Together, these ages spanned 4.32 million years.

Satya Yuga was the Age of Perfection, where truth, virtue, and righteousness (dharma) reigned supreme. It was a golden age, where harmony and divine presence flourished. The Devas and humans lived in purity, with no need for strife. Life was long, and the consciousness of all beings was elevated. The divine order was upheld without effort, and sin did not exist.

As time moved forward, Treta Yuga emerged. In this age, righteousness began to wane, with dharma divided into three parts, and human beings became more inclined toward material desires. Although virtue still existed, it was not in its perfect form. Divine intervention became more frequent as the Devas worked to guide the world back toward harmony. It was during this age that Lord Rama incarnated to restore balance, marking one of the greatest divine acts in human history.

Following this was Dvapara Yuga where dharma was reduced to only half of its former strength. The world descended into conflict and strife, with the divine presence growing weaker. The Devas continued their efforts, but the material world was increasingly dominated by greed and ambition. The Mahabharata unfolded in this age, where the epic battle between the Pandavas and Kauravas marked a pivotal moment in the struggle for righteousness.

Finally, Kali Yuga, the Age of Strife, arrived. This was the darkest and shortest of the four yugas, where virtue was nearly extinguished. The world was engulfed in chaos, suffering, and moral decay. Humanity was focused solely on material pursuits, with little regard for spiritual truth or divine connection. In this age, beings were short-lived and plagued by constant strife. The divine presence was veiled, and the Devas struggled more than ever to maintain balance.

4.32 billion years, made up one day for Brahma, also known as a Maha Kalpa which is followed by the "Great Wave of Calamity"—a cycle of day and night that marked the trials faced by the entire universe.

When Shiva initiates the destruction, the world will indeed meet its end, completely obliterated. Without the opening of the Ajna Chakra, the Devas would face full reincarnation, compelled to unravel the karma of their past lives and reestablish their ranks. Only then would Brahma recreate the cosmos. Thus, the Ajna Chakra marks the state of "Reincarnation at the End of Tribulation."

As for the final Sahasrara, Crown Chakra, it is said to represent the state of "Unity of Brahman and Self"—a transcendence even Indra had yet to comprehend. He murmured to himself, "Time is ticking. If I fail to unlock the Ajna Chakra, even I, the Lord of Svarga, will have only 4.3 billion years left."

With a resigned sigh, he pondered his fleeting time, ironic as it was for a being of his stature.

Just then, radiant beams streamed down from above the Kshira Sagara, or Milk Ocean, casting a warm glow that filled Indra with peace. In the heart of this golden light sat Vishnu and Lakshmi, poised on a lotus, their gazes serene yet all-encompassing, observing Devas and Asuras alike.

Lakshmi, radiant with divine light, followed Vishnu's gaze and noticed Alakshmi, who was departing with the Asuras. "She is my sister, born from Kshira Sagara," Lakshmi said softly. Turning to Vishnu, she smiled, "My dear, would you call her beautiful?"

Lakshmi's gentle smile radiated a beauty as serene and pure as a lotus in full bloom. It was as though, in that moment, her splendor filled the entire cosmos.

"Of course she is beautiful," Vishnu replied, a soft smile gracing his lips as he looked at Lakshmi with affection.

Alakshmi, the Devi of misfortune and poverty, carried the energies of conflict, jealousy, hardship, ignorance, and negativity—a near-opposite to Lakshmi. Yet, she shared almost the same origin, bound as both counterpart and contrast to her sister Lakshmi, the goddess of prosperity and light.

In Vishnu's eyes, Alakshmi was indeed a being much like Lakshmi. As radiant as his beloved wife, so was her counterpart, Alakshmi. To praise Alakshmi, Vishnu thought, was also to honor Lakshmi.

"Nath, you know everything that has happened, is happening, and will happen in the entire universe," Lakshmi said playfully, her eyes sparkling. "So tell me, who is more beautiful—me or her?"

Vishnu replied with a calm smile, "Alakshmi is most beautiful when she walks away from me. And you, my beloved wife, are most beautiful when you face me."

The Devas and Asuras, though unable to hear the words exchanged between Vishnu and Lakshmi, keenly felt the undercurrent of the moment. A charged silence fell over the scene as if the very air quivered with the intensity of their gaze. The Devas, ever in awe of their divine lord and goddess, exchanged looks of reverence mixed with slight discomfort. While they adored the bond between Vishnu and Lakshmi, they couldn't help but feel that such open displays of affection were out of place amidst the turmoil of the ocean churning.

On the other side, the Asuras, with their usual bitterness and rivalry, exchanged glances laden with frustration. The sight of the divine couple locked in such an intimate connection only served to fuel their envy. They muttered amongst themselves, growing more irritated with each passing moment. Their task, already arduous, seemed to carry even more weight in the presence of such a display of divine affection.

Indra, observing the scene with a thoughtful frown, couldn't suppress a sigh. He glanced around at the churning ocean and then back at the divine couple, shaking his head. "Ah, love," he muttered, his tone tinged with a mix of envy and resignation. "I can't say I envy them."

He folded his arms, leaning slightly to the side with a rueful expression. "I suppose I'll just keep to my duties," he added, his voice carrying a hint of dry humor. "At least I don't have to deal with the... complications of romance."

Meanwhile, Hiranyaksha confirming that Alakshmi was the sister of Lakshmi, stirred with anticipation. Stepping forward, he rallied his army, readying them to resume their efforts. Victory seemed close at hand—first, the Amrita, and then the ultimate triumph over the Devas.

In the Deva ranks, Indra readied his forces as well. "Only two hundred years left to complete the thousand I need to finish my first layer of divine armor," he whispered to himself, excitement flaring. He could hardly wait.

The two sides took their positions once more. Under the watchful gaze of Vishnu and Lakshmi, the churning of the ocean of milk resumed with renewed vigor.

Boom! Both Devas and Asuras seized Vasuki, gripping its head and tail, and with a united force, they continued the legendary act of churning the cosmic sea.

Mandara Mountain rumbled as Vasuki's vast serpent scales moved like tectonic plates, heating with friction. Chunks of earth broke free, turning into mountain-like fragments that crashed down into the Kshira Sagara, each impact shaking the ocean.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

The Kshira Sagara grew thicker and denser with each churn.

A century passed. Suddenly, a brilliant silvery-white light burst from the depths of the sea.

"Something's emerging!" Hiranyaksha's eyes widened as he saw a silver moon slowly rise from the Kshira Sagara, soaring swiftly into the sky.

"Somadev, the god of moon and wine!" he whispered, his gaze hardening. Hiranyaksha clenched his fists, the sound of his grip echoing.

"Everything coming out from Samundra Manthan shall belong to us, I will bring you down to Patalaloka with me!" Hiranyaksha stepped forward, his resolve unwavering. But as he prepared to advance, he halted, eyes widening as he murmured to himself.

"Mahadeva...?!"

Before him stood a towering figure clad in tiger skin and bearing a trident. The moon ascended, resting above this figure's head and transforming into a brilliant silver ornament.

Vishnu smiled knowingly but said nothing. Indra gazed up, immediately recognizing the imposing figure before him—it was Shiva, the god of Destruction.

Lord Shiva, the Deva of Destruction, the God of Innocence, and the Mahadeva, bearer of countless titles. Among Devas, he was reverently known as Mahadeva.

"Pranama Mahadev!" Indra exclaimed, bringing his hands together in reverence.

The Devas followed, voices raised in unified devotion.

"Pranama Mahadev!"

Amidst the resounding praises, Shiva smiled gently, and a soft silver light drifted down from the moon. The light descended among the Devas, taking the form of the Moon Deva Soma, clad in gleaming silver-white armor.

"Pranama Mahadev!" Soma declared, his silver armor glinting as he joined in reverence.

Shiva nodded slightly, his form dissolving into particles of golden light before disappearing.

"Lord Shiva just came to disrupt us and help the devas! Who doesn't know Soma's drink can boost any army's capabilities to their maximum." Hiranyaksha Asura's face darkened as he clenched his fists, striking the air in frustration, causing tremors throughout the Milky Sea.

"What should we do now, King?" asked Vajranga, anxiously.

"Keep stirring! Next time, it will be ours for sure!" Hiranyaksha replied, his voice steady and determined. "Next time, without a doubt!"

Another fifty years passed.

Boom!

A radiant Mani gem, brilliant as a pearl, rose from the sea. Its light filled the surrounding space, infusing the air with a sense of clarity and renewal.

"This gem is mine!" Hiranyaksha's eyes blazed with anger and disbelief.

"Ha?!" he growled, eyes narrowed as he watched the Mani gem settle on Vishnu.

"A gem?" Indra remarked, unmoved. He recalled what it was said to eventually gravitate toward Vishnu. He watched as the Kaustubha mani, almost instinctively, flew straight toward Vishnu, coming to rest upon his chest, where it shimmered brightly.

Chapter Text

Vishnu smiled faintly. "Kaustubha Mani!" he declared, his voice calm yet authoritative.
"The Lotus-hued ruby is the most magnificent Ratnam in all creation, a symbol of wisdom, holiness, prosperity, and boundless vastness."

As Vishnu spoke, the Kaustubha mani radiated an ethereal brilliance from his chest. Its light shone like the meeting of the bright moon and the first rays of dawn as if offering silent prayers to the glory of the Lord. Hanging resplendently on Vishnu's chest, the gem seemed alive with divine energy.

Hiranyaksha snorted angrily, his head turning aside in frustration.

"What bad luck!" he muttered bitterly to himself. 'Why did everything of worth always fall into the hands of the Trimurti?'

Hiranyaksha's irritation was palpable, and the other Asuras stood silently, unwilling to provoke his wrath. After a tense moment, Hiranyaksha frowned and glanced at the group behind him. His expression darkened as he asked sharply, "Where is Puloman? Why is he missing?"

Both Vajranga and Viprachitti exchanged uncertain glances and shook their heads.

"We haven't seen him for a while my King," Viprachitti replied.

Just then, Puloman stepped forward from among the crowd of Asuras, flying toward Hiranyaksha with an uneasy smile on his face. "I'm here, King!" he announced hastily. "Some of the Asuras at the rear were struggling, so I went back to assist them."

Hiranyaksha's sharp gaze shifted to Puloman, noticing the beads of sweat dripping from his forehead. His frown deepened as he let out a cold snort.

"Lazy fool!" he barked. "Sweating just from churning one mountain when amrita is right around the corner? Go back and train harder!"

Puloman lowered his head, bowing respectfully as Hiranyaksha dismissed him and turned his focus back to the Devas of Svarga.

As Hiranyaksha's attention shifted, Puloman sighed in relief, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. However, his narrowed eyes glinted with malice as he glanced at the Devas.

"Indra..." Puloman hissed under his breath, gritting his teeth in silent fury.

The curse of Shukracharya still echoed in Puloman's ears. At the time, his mind had gone completely blank, and he couldn't even recall how he managed to return to the Asura army.

Meanwhile, the Devas and Asuras continued churning the Kshira Sagara with unwavering effort. Puloman stood at a distance, his sharp eyes fixed on Indra, observing him in secret.

To be honest, Puloman wasn't impressed. Apart from the moment when Indra pulled Vasuki's tail with brute force, the King of Svarga seemed to throw himself into the task with reckless abandon, lacking any semblance of strategic thought.

"Just a foolish brute!" Puloman thought, a sly grin creeping onto his face as he shook his head in disdain.

"Indra, you rely solely on brute strength," he muttered to himself. "You don't even know how to conserve your energy for defense. That's all there is to you!"

Puloman's lips curled into a cunning smile. "Ha! Once I become the King of the Asuras, I'll lead an attack on Svarga, destroy your arrogance, and kill you, Indra! Then the curse will never come to pass!"

He chuckled darkly at the thought, stroking his curly beard with an air of pride, basking in what he believed was his superior wisdom and strategic brilliance.

"Teacher," Puloman murmured under his breath, "I will never let your curse come true."

...

...

"If my calculations are correct, Uchchaihshravas should emerge soon! My penance is only fifty years away from completion!" Indra silently counted the time in his mind.

With the continued churning of the Kshira Sagara, the next treasure to appear should be Uchchaihshravas, the magnificent white horse. Beyond that, the remaining items from the Milky Sea included the horse king, Kalpavriksha, Halahala, and finally, Amrit.

Of all these, Indra's interest was solely fixated on Amrit.

"Vishnu would never allow the Amrit to fall into the hands of the Asuras," Indra mused. "In that case, I'd be better off retreating to avoid any risk of exposure to Halahala."

Indra weighed his options carefully. Vishnu had always been a reliable ally to the Devas, and it was through his efforts that they could claim Amrita, the divine nectar of immortality. With that comforting thought, Indra made up his mind to step back.

Just as he was about to retreat, a voice interrupted him. "Indra, where are you going?" Suryadev tilted his head, his expression curious.

Indra coughed, trying to mask his intention. "Ahem! Ahem! While churning the Kshira Sagara, I noticed Vayu blowing fiercely at Vasuki's tail. Some of the Gandharvas couldn't keep their grip and were thrown off. They were struggling to follow the rhythm, so I thought I'd go help them!"

He straightened up, his tone growing more confident as he spoke. "Yes, exactly that!"

Surya raised an eyebrow, his surprise was evident. "For that reason?"

Turning to glance at the group of Gandharvas behind them, Suryadev noticed that some were indeed injured, their efforts hampered by the chaotic gusts stirred by Vasuki's tail. It seemed Indra's excuse held some truth.

They had never paid attention to such matters before!
"King?!" Soma the moon deva gaped in confusion and shock, unable to contain his astonishment.

Having only just returned, Soma's consciousness was frozen in the moment he had vanished from Svarga. He had no idea what had transpired among the Devas during his absence. Why had their arrogant king and big brother changed so much?

What happened? How many years have passed? What did I miss?

As Soma tried to process his confusion, Brihaspati stepped forward, his pace slow and deliberate.

With a calm smile and a look of approval, Brihaspati turned to Indra and spoke with quiet admiration: "Then let the Ashwini twins accompany you. They are the Devas of medicine and can tend to the injured Gandharvas behind us."

"Great idea! I'll summon them!" Suryadev offered enthusiastically.

"The more hands, the better!" Indra agreed, nodding quickly.

Deep down, Indra was just looking for an excuse to step out of the fray. He hadn't thought too deeply about it, but now he had an opportunity to divert attention.

The Ashwini Kumaras often referred to as the 'Horsemen' forever young, handsome, and athletic, were named Nasatya and Dasra. These twin Devas were the sons of Surya, embodying the brilliance of Dawn, medicine, health, as well as healing sciences.

In no time, two strikingly handsome young men approached Indra, their eyes gleaming with reverence. They clasped their hands together, bowed low, and greeted him respectfully: "Pranam to the benevolent King of Svarga! Only you could think of the warriors' plight!"

Indra: "…"

For a moment, Indra was speechless, caught off guard by their heartfelt praise.

Clearing his throat, Indra straightened his posture, raised his hand to his heart with practiced authority, and said to the twins, "This is simply the duty of the King of Svarga. Now, let's move on!"

Hearing their words of admiration, the Ashwini Kumaras followed Indra with even greater respect. Their devotion and awe only grew as they walked toward the injured Gandharvas.

"The King of Svarga is truly compassionate!"

Rishi Brihaspati observed the scene from a distance, his heart stirred with emotion. Taking out his sacred book, he resumed writing:
"The compassionate King of Svarga, Indra, dispatched the Ashwini Kumaras, the celestial healers, to tend to the injured Gandharvas, offering both medicine and solace..."

...

Soon, both sides were ready once more. The Devas and Asuras assembled at their respective ends of the great serpent Vasuki, resuming the monumental task of churning the Kshira Sagara.

"Asura warriors!" Hiranyaksha bellowed, his voice resonating with fierce determination.
"Let the Devas witness your strength! The treasures of the Kshira Sagara belong to us—the true rulers of the Triloka! We are the rightful heirs to all its riches!"

Raising his fist in defiance, he declared, "I swear by my title as King of the Asuras, the next treasure will be ours!"

Though brimming with arrogance, Hiranyaksha understood the stakes. Having lost the last two treasures to the Devas, he knew morale among his ranks had to be restored. If not, the burden of reclaiming the glory might rest solely on his shoulders.

His rousing words ignited a fire within the Asuras. Their eyes blazed with renewed Vigor, their voices rising in unison.

"Ours!"
"Ours!"

They roared with conviction, their collective fervor shaking the very heavens.

...

The roar of the Asuras echoed through the air, a thunderous chorus of power and determination that sent tremors through the atmosphere. Their energy and unity were undeniable.

From afar, Indra observed the scene with a sigh. He couldn't help but admire their sheer might and discipline. "These Asuras are truly formidable," he muttered to himself.

In stark contrast, his side presented an entirely different picture.

"O Merciful King of Svarga, I dedicate my very being to you!" a Gandharva warrior declared fervently, kneeling before Indra. His eyes brimmed with tears, a mixture of reverence, gratitude, and awe shining in his gaze.

Before Indra could respond, the Gandharva lowered his head to touch Indra's feet with his hands, placing them against his forehead in a gesture of deep devotion.

The act seemed to trigger a ripple effect. One by one, other Gandharvas surged forward, crowding around Indra to perform the same ritual.

Flustered, Indra bent to help the first Gandharva to his feet, but the steady stream of followers showed no sign of abating. Hundreds, thousands of Gandharvas pressed closer, all eager to demonstrate their devotion.

By this point, Indra couldn't help but think wryly, at this rate, I might just complete an ascetic's penance for standing on one leg.

"Enough, enough! This is what a King of Svarga must do!" Indra said, waving his hands. "Now, focus—back to churning the Kshira Sagara!"

The Gandharvas retreated reluctantly, and the grand task resumed.

Boom!

The Mandara Mountain spun ceaselessly, its massive form churning the ocean below. Fiery embers erupted from its surface, as molten rocks fell like meteorites into the swirling waters. The intense heat from the mountain seared the skies, igniting flames that blazed across the horizon.

For thirty long years, the effort continued without pause. Slowly, the waters of the Kshira Sagara thickened, taking on the consistency of honey, their rich texture glowing under the divine light.

And then, suddenly—

Swish!

A beam of radiant white light burst from the ocean's depths, shooting skyward in a dazzling arc.

"There!"

The cry echoed through the air, and both Devas and Asuras immediately turned their gaze toward the spectacle. But before anyone could react, another burst of blinding brilliance erupted from the ocean.

Swish!

"No! There aren't just one, but two treasures!"

A wave of excitement and confusion swept through the crowd. What treasures awaited them this time?

Chapter Text

The two beams of white light shot out from the Kshira Sagara one after the other, soaring over the vast expanse of water before colliding mid-air.

Boom!

The impact was immense. Waves of air surged outward, and the viscous milk of the Kshira Sagara rippled like jelly, their surface undulating violently.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

"What are these wonders?" Puloman muttered, his voice laced with curiosity and greed.

"Wait... could it be?" Agnideva stepped forward, his eyes widening with realization. "Yes! I recognize them!"

"Uchchaihshravas!" exclaimed Vayudev, pointing at the majestic seven-headed flying horse. Its ethereal mane gleamed with the colors of the dawn, each head exuding an aura of divine power. "The King of Horses, born from the essence of purity itself!"

"And there!" Agnidev called, as the massive, cloud-like figure of Airavata stepped forward, its white, radiant form wreathed in mist. "Airavata! The celestial elephant, bearer of the clouds and storms, destined to serve as Indra's mount!"

The Devas and Asuras alike were drawn to the spectacle, their attention fixed on the massive collision. As the radiant white light slowly began to fade, the shapes of two colossal creatures emerged, their forms as tall as mountains. They clashed together with thunderous force.

First came Uchchaihshravas, the celestial steed. Its seven heads reared high, each letting out a harmonious whiny that echoed like a divine symphony through the heavens. The sound wasn't merely a cry but a melody, a layered cascade of tones that wove together like celestial flutes singing in perfect unison.

"Eeeeeh-aahhh! Eeeeeh-aahhh!"

Even as they marveled, the waters of the Kshira Sagara surged again, and from the vortex emerged the towering figure of Airavata, the cloud elephant of legend. Its emergence was marked by a thunderous trumpet, a call so deep and powerful that it seemed to resonate with the core of the Earth itself.

"Prrrraaaahhh! Prrrraaaaahhh!"

The sound rolled across the ocean, shaking the skies and silencing all other noise. Water cascaded from its massive form like waterfalls, crashing into the ocean with deafening roars. As Airavata stepped onto the solidified foam of the sea, each step landed with a heavy, resounding thud, leaving ripples that expanded outward infinitely.

Once again, the two giants collided, their heads and trunks twisting and struggling, creating waves across the milk sea as their forms shook violently.

The Devas recognized the elephant at once. Airavata, the divine white elephant, was unmistakable.

"Then this white horse must be the king of horses—Uchchaihshravas!" Indra thought, his heart stirring with excitement.

"Uchchaihshravas!"

Unable to contain his enthusiasm, Indra stepped forward, calling the horse by name.

At the sound of Indra's voice, Airavata, the six-tusked elephant, shook his massive head, its large ears flapping like fans made of cattail leaves. It was as though the elephant had been stirred by an unseen force, reminiscent of a child calling for its father.

Eeeeiiiihhhh!

Airavata lowered his head with a mighty trumpet before lifting his enormous body. The elephant's trunk swung up, and in a single swift motion, he lifted Uchchaihshravas off the ground with his tusks.

Boom!

With a powerful thrust, the white horse was sent flying through the air, hurtling toward the Asura army.

"Huh? Hahahaha!"

Hiranyaksha let out a gleeful laugh, his knees bending as he prepared to leap into action. In a flash, he shot forward, charging toward the airborne horse.

"If Indra claims the King of Elephants, then the King of Asuras shall command the King of Horses—Uchchaihshravas! Mark my words, I will ensure you never set foot in Svarga again!"

Hiranyaksha sought to subdue the wild white horse, but this creature, with its tall, pointed ears, was furious. It neighed loudly and charged at him like a meteor, its speed and force even faster than the speed of thought.

Boom!

Despite Hiranyaksha's immense strength—powerful enough to lift the very Mandara mountain the axis of the earth and Svarga—the king of horses struck him with a swift kick. Its neck was caught in his grasp, but the sheer strength of the horse caused Hiranyaksha to stagger sideways.

Boom!

Uchchaihshravas's ears standing tall in anger, let out a fierce roar as it crashed into the Asura army, sending shockwaves through their ranks. The Asuras screamed in panic as they were knocked aside, falling into the milky sea.

"Wait a minute! This wasn't the direction I aimed for—why did it land in the army?"

Hiranyaksha cursed under his breath. "I've been unusually unlucky lately."

Still disoriented, the white horse quickly regained its footing, letting out a loud hiss before charging back to its feet. With the fury of a wild king, it began trampling over the Asura army with all four of its hooves.

Hiranyaksha sneered, his eyes narrowing with fury as he glared at the rebellious steed. He straightened up, ready to face the white horse once more.

"Airavata! You've come!" With a smile on his face, Indra raised his right hand and clenched his fist in victory.

PRUUUUMMMMM!

The four-tusks and seven trunks white elephant, Airavata, let out a long cry. His large, watery eyes blinked, and he happily shook his head. His slender trunk reached out and gently touched Indra's fist in a gesture of affection.

Indra nodded, a sense of gratitude swelling in his chest. His beloved elephant had finally returned.

Glancing around, Indra motioned with his hand and whispered, "Come over."

In response, Airavata nodded and, with a quiet grace, moved closer to Indra. His enormous ears, like cattail leaves, folded around Indra, creating a protective shield. The two shared a quiet moment as secret talks began.

"The Kshira Sagara will be very dangerous soon, so don't get too close," Indra whispered urgently.

Airavata nodded, his eyes shifting slightly as if to say he understood everything.

"Good," Indra said, his voice soft. He patted Airavata's head, stepped back, and turned his gaze toward the vast Milky Ocean.

Placing his hands on his waist, Indra sighed in relief, a sense of comfort settling over him. As long as he secured the Amrit, he could focus on his training in peace. He had no desire to be drawn into the dangers of battle with the Asuras in the future.

"Hey! King of Svarga, only a fool would attempt that!"

Indra couldn't help but smile in amusement.

Boom! Boom!

Suddenly, violent tremors shook the Milky Sea. Indra looked toward the disturbance and saw Hiranyaksha engaged in a fierce struggle, repeatedly knocking the white horse to the ground. Each time, the white horse tumbled into the Asura army, seemingly guided by some unseen force. Many Asuras were caught in the chaos, letting out cries of pain as they were trampled by the mighty hooves of the horse which couldn't even be bound by time and space.

Indra couldn't help but click his tongue in disapproval.

Even a mare was difficult to tame, let alone a stallion. And not just any stallion, but the King of Horses—Uchchaihshravas.

Finally, after an unknown amount of time, Hiranyaksha emerged from the Asura army, his expression dark and grim. Behind him, the white horse, its tall ears drooping, was tightly bound by five-colored ropes.

"This white horse is truly extraordinary!" Hiranyaksha muttered under his breath.

"Vajranga, take this white horse back to Patalaloka immediately." Hiranyaksha's tone was frustrated as he addressed his subordinate.

Uchchaihshravas had been a wild force, kicking anything in sight. If not for Hiranyaksha's immense power, taming it would have been nearly impossible. Moreover, if the horse remained in the army, it was bound to cause more chaos and harm to the Asuras. It was better to send it away.

Hiranyaksha paused, a thoughtful look crossing his face.

"I feel as though misfortune has been following me lately. The temple of the goddess Jyestha should have been completed decades ago. She is associated with wealth and fortune. When you return, go to her temple and offer your prayers."

Hiranyaksha's words carried a weight of warning.

"I will fulfill your commands, my Lord," Vajranga replied immediately, his voice firm with understanding.

Hiranyaksha exhaled in relief, then turned to face the Deva army. His fists clenched with determination.

"Continue!" he shouted, his voice ringing across the battlefield.

Indra's eyes flashed with determination as his expression grew serious. He grasped the tail of Vasuki and maneuvered his way among the many Gandharvas.

Only the Kalpavriksha, Halahala, and Amrit remained in the Milky Sea. The white horse and the white elephant had emerged together—two magnificent beings appearing simultaneously.

Halahala and Amrit were also twin entities. Next would be the Kalpavriksha, the wish-fulfilling tree. This sacred tree, which belonged to the Devas, had been transported to the peak of Mt. Meru, nestled within the heart of Indra's five paradise gardens.

Legend had it that anyone who prayed devoutly beneath the tree could have their righteous desires fulfilled. Even Parvati, the personification of the creative energy that sustains the cosmos, once made a wish under its branches for a daughter, and thus Ashokasundari was born.

"The Asuras will surely try to seize the Kalpavriksha," Indra muttered. "Thankfully, my divine armor is almost finished."

His gaze sharpened with resolve as he grasped the long tail of the serpent, pulling it closer to himself. He pressed his arms firmly against the snake's scales and began to pull with all his might.

Airavata, ever loyal, extended his trunk and wrapped it around the serpent's body, helping to pull it as well.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

The massive body of the Snake King Vasuki was tugged from left to right, causing Mandara Mountain to rotate slowly. The sound of its movement was like that of the Patalaloka shaking, a loud rumbling echoing through the air.

As time passed, year after year, Indra felt the power of his penance growing stronger within him, a burst of energy radiating like lightning from his body. His meditation had reached its pinnacle.

Boom!

A deafening crack of thunder and lightning exploded in his mind. Indra's focus was shattered, and he slowly lowered his head, ending his penance.

A faint golden light began to glow around him, and within that radiance, the figure of Surya appeared. The golden sun armor became even brighter, its first layer now complete.

"What power should I bestow upon this first layer of divine armor?" Indra pondered deeply, his mind already turning to the next phase of his preparation. 

…

On the other side, Vishnu's eyes suddenly opened as he returned from his meditation. His gaze fell upon the churning Sea of Milk below, his expression growing serious.

"Narayana, what's wrong?" Lakshmi, the Devadess, asked, her beautiful eyes sparkling with concern.

"I caught a glimpse of the future during my meditation," Vishnu replied slowly. "What comes next is..."

"The Kalpavriksha!"

He paused, his voice heavy with gravity. "This wish-fulfilling tree will be tied to Shiva in the future. The Asuras must not get their hands on it!"

---

Ashokasundari was born from the wish-fulfilling tree, Kalpavriksha when Parvati wished for a daughter to reduce her loneliness. Her name is derived from her creation. Ashoka refers to the easing of Parvati's Shoka, which means "sorrow", while Sundari means "beautiful girl

Chapter Text

Vishnu's gaze drifted downward, his eyes locked on the Kshira Sagara below. Mandara Mountain was spinning faster and faster, its rotation accompanied by billowing waves and flames from Vasuki's mouth. The sky fire fell into the sea, but instead of sinking, it seemed to hover like dust settling on water like oil, rising and falling with the ripples of the milky sea.

The surface of the Kshira Sagara rippled, slimy, and undulating, signaling the imminent birth of a treasure from its depths. The air crackled with energy.

"It's coming out!" Hiranyaksha exclaimed, his eyes narrowing as he stared intently at the base of Mandara Mountain. A realization formed in his mind.

With a sudden rush, a beam of golden light shot up from the sea, soaring into the sky. The light expanded, blooming into a towering, radiant tree. The Kalpavriksha, a tree of boundless power, soared high into the sky, its emerald leaves shimmering with divine radiance. Hanging from its branches were fruits that granted any wish, while the air around it was thick with the scent of blooming celestial flowers. Though its branches did not bear gems, the tree itself radiated an aura of wealth and abundance, as if every divine treasure of the cosmos lay within its reach. The tree shone with brilliance, radiating its splendor in all directions.

The Kalpavriksha, the divine wish-fulfilling tree, was a creation of immense power. The tree could grant any desire, producing everything needed at the perfect moment. However, its gifts were always aligned with Dharma, ensuring that only those whose wishes were righteous and in harmony with the divine order could receive them.

"What a magnificent sacred tree," Suryadev remarked, stepping forward with a proud smile on his face. "This tree rightfully belongs to Svarga. Only we, the Devas, are worthy of its blessings."

He stood to the side, his mind already picturing himself beneath the Kalpavriksha, envisioning the glory and reverence that would follow, imagining himself as the most glorious and heroic figure among the Devas.

"Indeed, the very essence of the cosmos resides in such a tree," Somadev Soma agreed, nodding with a solemn expression. "It was meant for us, not the Asuras."

"I'll bring it back!" Vayudev, the god of wind, volunteered eagerly. His eyes narrowed with resolve as he tapped into his speed, the wind rushing around him.

The Devas could feel the weight of the situation. The Kalpavriksha was more than a mere symbol of power—it was a cosmic tool, capable of reshaping the very fabric of existence. In the wrong hands, especially those of the Asuras, it could bring about a shift in the balance of power, and the Devas feared what that could mean for their dominance.

The thought of the Asuras using the tree for their gain ignited a deep sense of insecurity within the Devas. They could not afford to let the tree slip away; without it, they feared losing the favor of the Brahman, the power that sustained their reign.

As Vayudev shot into the sky, his speed leaving a trail of wind in his wake, the Devas exchanged nervous glances. Their urgency was palpable.

"I'll bring it back!" Vayudev volunteered eagerly. As the fastest among the Devas, he wasted no time. The words had barely left his mouth when he shot into the sky, heading straight for the wish-fulfilling tree.

"Kalpavriksha!" Vayudev's eyes sparkled as the light from the tree grew brighter and brighter. Excitedly, he reached out toward it.

"It belongs to the Asuras!" Hiranyaksha's roar rang out. He lunged forward, crashing into Vayudev with the force of an iron mountain.

Boom!

The impact was deafening. It was like a speeding truck colliding with a stationary wheelchair. Vayudev was sent spinning, tumbling through the air, and crashing into a group of Gandharvas like a flaming wheel.

"Vayu!!!" Surya and his siblings cried out in shock.

Indra, taken aback, stepped forward, his eyes wide in surprise. So fast! Hiranyaksha wasn't just incredibly powerful—he was faster than Vayu, the embodiment of wind itself.

Before Indra could process what had just happened, Vayudev had already plummeted toward them. His eyelids twitched. He raised his hand, and with a sharp crack, a massive electric grid spread out to encompass the area.

Boom!!!

Vayudev was suddenly engulfed by the divine power of thunder and lightning. The air buzzed with energy as bolts of lightning shot out in every direction, swirling like wild dragons and serpents.

Not good! The power is too strong—I can't control it!

Indra quickly dissolved the electric grid, but when he looked up, he saw Vayudev crashing into the Sea of Milk. His body twitched and shuddered as the lightning continued to course through him.

"Vayu, are you okay?" Indra rushed forward, lifting him. Placing his palms on Vayudev's chest, he focused, withdrawing the violent lightning energy with fierce concentration.

"Vayu! Vayu!!!" Soma hurried to his side, concern etched on his face.

Fortunately, Vayudev's divine body was incredibly resilient, so the injury healed almost instantly.

Amidst the many watching eyes, Vayudev slowly rose to his feet, his chest still heaving with lingering pain and his eyes filled with resentment.

"Indra, I admit that you are stronger, but compared to him, your beating hurt more!" Vayu couldn't help but mutter, a bitter edge to his voice.

After speaking, he glanced at Indra, swallowed hard, and then turned his attention back to Hiranyaksha in the distance.

"Indra, what should we do now?" Vayudev asked, his voice filled with anxiety. "This sacred tree is about to fall into Hiranyaksha's hands!"

The Devas shared a collective sense of unease, their eyes turning toward Indra, waiting for his command.

Indra stared into the distance at Hiranyaksha, then raised three fingers, signaling the Devas to listen carefully.

"I have three steps," he declared firmly. "Step one: Retreat!"

The Devas listened intently as Indra continued, his tone serious. "Hiranyakshas is too strong for us to defeat right now. It's better to retreat. Step two: This sacred tree is a divine item, containing the power to change the balance of the universe. The Asuras cannot decipher its secrets, so let them take it. What harm can it do?"

Indra paused, blinking. He forced a calm smile, but in truth, he had yet to think of the third step.

"Well, I think you all understand the plan," Indra said, scanning the gathered Devas with a look of quiet authority.

The Devas exchanged puzzled glances. The plan? They thought. What plan? And what on Svarga was the third step?

Suryadev, ever the thoughtful one, furrowed his brow. I am second only to the King of Svarga, he thought, puffing out his chest a little. If the others understand and I don't, that would be a disaster. I must save face—immediately.

A moment passed, and then—like a bolt of lightning striking through the clouds—understanding dawned upon him. With a sly smile, he nodded slowly, raising his head high, and shot a look at the others as if to say, I get it, guys. I'm so ahead of you.

"I see!" Surya declared, his voice booming with confidence.

"Ah? What did you understand?" Agni asked, his fiery eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

Surya gave a mysterious, yet smug, smile, but said nothing. Agni glanced nervously at Indra, hoping for some kind of guidance, but Indra, too, wore a satisfied smile and remained silent.

For a moment, Agni stood frozen, his face flushing with embarrassment. No! I must understand this, he thought, his brain working overtime. We are brothers of fire, after all. Indra, the fire in the sky; Surya, the fire in Svarga; and me, the fire in Bhuloka. The other two got it—if I don't, I'll look like a fool!

The pressure was too much. Agni took a deep breath and clapped his hands together with a sharp snap, causing the gathered Devas to flinch slightly. "Ah, I get it now!" Agni laughed, nervously wiping his brow. "Oops! I understand! The King of Svarga's plan is brilliant!"

Varuna, the Deva of water, and Vayu, the Deva of wind, both nodded in enthusiastic agreement, their faces lit with understanding.

Somadev, however, still stood there, utterly baffled. What in the world did they figure out?

As Soma tried to make sense of it all, the other Devas—Vayu, Surya, Agni, and Varuna—turned to him in unison, their eyes sparkling with smug self-assurance. It was clear: they knew what was going on.

"Soma, what do you think?" Suryadev asked, his tone dripping with superiority.

Soma was silent for a moment, scanning the group. He could feel the weight of their gazes, all full of certainty. He couldn't let them get away with it. I can't be the only one in the dark!

"Ah, yes... It makes sense," Soma said, nodding with a faux-confidence. "The three-step plan Indra made is indeed sound."

Indra blinked in surprise. What on Triloka did they come up with? Indra thought, taken aback by their sudden confidence. His eyes scanned their faces, all brimming with assurance, and he couldn't help but feel a twinge of surprise.

They seemed so sure... Did they figure something out?

Indra's mind raced. I need to know what they think they understand—quickly.

…

Above the Kshira Sagara, The green shade of the wish-fulfilling sacred tree fell upon Hiranyaksha's imposing figure. The strong winds from the milky sea rustled through the tree's branches, carrying a faint, fragrant breeze that eased Hiranyaksha's spirit and brought him a sense of relaxation.

He gazed at the gathering of Devas and Gandharvas in the distance and couldn't help but raise his head, laughing arrogantly. "Hahaha! A bunch of weak, cowardly Devas! I, Hiranyaksha, shall become the Lord of the Triloka!"

With a booming laugh, Hiranyaksha raised his enormous hand, sweeping away the sky and sun as he reached for the sacred tree. "This Tree is mine! Hahaha!"

Overcome with excitement, he gripped the sacred tree, inspecting it closely.

But in the shadow of the tree, a golden figure materialized, smiling faintly at him. In an instant, the sacred tree vanished with a swish.

"Hiranyaksha, I believe this tree doesn't have a connection with the Asuras," Vishnu said, holding the tree in his hand as he appeared before Hiranyaksha, a smile playing on his lips.

Chapter Text

"I will not take this sacred tree from you without offering something in return. Why don't we discuss the terms?" Vishnu said, still smiling warmly as he held the sacred tree in his hand. His demeanor was calm and serene, as though the angry Hiranyaksha before him were no more than a mild inconvenience. A look of happiness and harmlessness.

"Ha! You want to negotiate terms?" Hiranyaksha retorted, his eyes flashing with fury. He opened his mouth wide and exhaled a blast of air like thunder, causing the very color of the world to shift. The ground trembled beneath him, and the roots of his teeth cracked as though an earthquake had struck deep underground. His fists clenched in rage.

He remembered it all too clearly. The last time someone had dared negotiate with him, it was Indra—and in the end, Indra had tricked him into discarding the Mandara Mountain. Now, Vishnu was here, trying the same thing. He truly thought Hiranyaksha was a fool.

Vishnu blinked, unfazed, his smile unwavering. "This Kalpavriksha is crucial for the balance of the universe," he said slowly. "As long as it is entrusted to the Devas, I will ensure it is shared fairly among you in my capacity as the protector of the Universe. The next treasure that emerges from the churning of the Kshira Sagara, however, will belong to the Asuras."

Hiranyaksha's expression darkened as he stared at Vishnu, suspicion and distrust in his eyes. He glanced down at the Milk Sea below, its surface rippling like sticky glue. It was clear that the churning was nearing its end—there wasn't much left to churn. Whatever emerged next would likely be the legendary Amrit, the nectar of immortality that could grant anyone who drinks it eternal life.

'Should he take a gamble?'

The Kalpavriksha was a valuable treasure, yes, but it paled in comparison to the Amrit. He and his brother, Hiranyakashipu, had worked tirelessly for strength and immortality. If he could obtain the Amrit, he would be invincible against the Devas for thousands of years, able to launch a full assault on Svarga. At that point, all the rare treasures and beautiful Apsaras in Svarga would be his.

As for the protector of the universe before him…

Hiranyaksha would never admit that he was afraid of Vishnu. His eyes narrowed with solemnity as he raised his hand and pointed directly at Vishnu, the protector of the world.

"Hmph! I can't trust the Devas," he said coldly. "I want you to make a promise right now—an oath that no Deva will dare disobey!"

"As you wish," Vishnu replied calmly. He gave a slight nod, raised his right hand, and turned toward Hiranyaksha with a smile.

"In the name of the protector of the universe," Vishnu began, "I vow to ensure a fair distribution for both the Devas and the Asuras. The Kalpavriksha before me will belong to the Devas..."

He paused for a moment, smiled, and then turned to address the assembled Devas.

"The next treasure to emerge from the Kshira Sagara will belong to the Asuras."

Vishnu's words echoed across the Kshira Sagara, spreading far and wide. Two beams of light appeared upon the surface, and the figures of Brahma and Shiva materialized, each nodding in acknowledgment of Vishnu's declaration, standing as witnesses to the oath.

Seeing this, Hiranyaksha felt a sense of reassurance. He exhaled deeply, slowly unclenching his fists. With Brahma and Shiva present, he knew that Vishnu's words carried weight—there was no way he could backtrack now.

On the other side, the Devas clasped their hands in reverence. After the Devas paid their respect and thanks to Vishnu, one by one, led by Surya, they tilted their heads and looked at Vishnu with expressions of grievance.

"Lord Vishnu, how can you help the Asuras?" they silently wondered. "What if the Amrit is taken by them?"

Vishnu smiled faintly but did not explain. He released his palm, and the wish-fulfilling tree descended slowly, bathed in golden light, finally landing before the Devas.

"King of Svarga, please accept this Kalpavriksha," Vishnu said with a smile.

Indra nodded, smiling as he clasped his hands and protected the tree before him. He then gave Vishnu a slight nod in gratitude.

Vishnu's smile widened as he transformed into golden light and disappeared with a soft whoosh.

Indra's face softened with emotion.

Sure enough, Vishnu remained as reliable as ever!

If he remembered correctly, the only treasures left in the Kshira Sagara were Halahala and Amrit—one of them granting instant death, and the other granting immortality.

"Halahala might be a blessing in disguise!" Indra thought, storing the wish-fulfilling tree away safely. His fingers instinctively grazed the surface of his divine armor.

The Sahasrakavacha, his divine armor, was tough yet emanated a gentle warmth that comforted his fingertips. He was prepared to use the first layer of his divine armor to absorb Halahala.

Hope began to blossom in Indra's heart. He turned around to reassure the worried Devas. Surya and the others were anxious, fearing that the next treasure from the Kshira Sagara would fall into the hands of the Asuras.

"Do not worry!" Indra said confidently. "Would the Lord Vishnu harm us? You are not pious enough to warrant that fear. The main event comes next!"

Surya's eyes brightened at his words. He turned slightly and asked quietly, "King Svarga, did Lord Vishnu say something to you?"

Indra shook his head, a gentle smile on his lips. He moved toward Vasuki, the great serpent, and embraced its tail with both hands, feeling reassured and ready for what was to come.

When Surya witnessed this scene, a flash of realization swept across his mind, and the sun's rays flickered in his eyes.

"Lord Vishnu and the King must have shared something we don't know," Surya thought. "Do not worry!" he reassured the Devas.

Hearing Surya's words, the Devas finally relaxed and returned to their respective places.

In the distance, Garuda, who had been assisting the Devas by pulling the snake's tail, suddenly tilted his head. His eyes widened in confusion, a mix of unwillingness, grief, anger, and grievance washing over him.

"Did the Lord tell the King of Svarga something?" he wondered. "I am the Lord's mount—why didn't he tell me?"

"Why does the lord favor the King of Svarga more than me?!"

Garuda, his proud form momentarily hunched, drooped his wings in frustration, unable to understand the situation.

Before he could make sense of it, the Gandharvas around him began to move. They were already pulling Vasuki's snake tail, starting the effort to drag it. Garuda, though still troubled, had no choice but to channel his grief and anger into strength and assist in the task.

Rumble!

With the support of the spirit turtle, the colossal body of the serpent king, Vasuki, shifted once again, rubbing against Mount Mandara with a deep, resonating sound.

Gulp! Gulp! Gulp!

Steam billowed from the Sea, and bubbles erupted from its thick, sticky surface, bursting like a volcanic eruption.

"It's spinning so fast! It seems like everyone is putting in maximum effort!" Indra remarked, watching Mount Mandara spin like a gyroscope. He sighed and gripped Vasuki's serpent body, straining with all his might.

The Asuras were also fully engaged.

Rolling flames and venom spewed from the countless heads of Vasuki, forcing the Asuras to use their divine power to fend off the attacks while pulling with all their strength. In the distance, Hiranyaksha's voice rang out.

"It's the final moment!"

"The protector of the Devas, Vishnu, has promised that the next treasure will belong to the Asuras. The Amrit will be ours, and immortality is within our reach!"

"Quick! Faster!" Hiranyaksha commanded, turning to the Asuras behind him.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

As the forces from both sides continued to churn, the vibrations beneath Mount Mandara grew louder, like the sound of countless planets exploding. The sky and the Patalaloka seemed to crack open, while the Sea of Milk surged with a massive wave.

Boom!

A colossal wave erupted in the Kshira Sagara, forming a swirling vortex.

Hiranyaksha released the serpent head he had been holding, took two eager steps forward, and gazed excitedly at the Sea. Raising his hands high, he shouted with triumph.

"It's here! Our treasure is emerging!"

Chapter Text

"It's coming out!" Hiranyaksha's eyes gleamed with anticipation as he gazed at the massive vortex in the Sea of Milk. At its center, the depths were dark and unfathomable, as if the vortex connected directly to the endless abyss beneath the sea.

Amrita! Could it be the Amrita?

Boom!

With a burst of energy, Hiranyaksha shot into the sky, soaring across the vast expanse of the ocean and heading straight for the swirling vortex. The Devas watched him intently, their curiosity piqued by what the vortex would reveal this time.

Indra, observing from a distance, narrowed his eyes.

Many of the Asuras, too, shot out from the Sea of Milk like meteors, racing toward the enormous vortex.

"I fear Halahala alone won't be enough to end Hiranyaksha," Indra mused, his thoughts shadowed with concern. "This Asura was meticulous when he sought blessings from Brahma. He enumerated nearly every living and non-living entity in existence, securing protection from harm by them. Poison was undoubtedly among the things he remembered."

His gaze darkened as he recalled the details. "The only thing he overlooked was the wild boar. That singular lapse has left a vulnerable thread in the otherwise impenetrable armor of his boon."

Indra glanced toward the Asura army in the distance. "Even if we can't strike him directly, the effects of Halahala should disrupt his forces. The potency of that poison may not kill him, but it will surely cause chaos among his ranks. That, at least, is a start."

Indra pondered the situation as Hiranyaksha reached the vortex. He leaned forward, peering into its depths.

Within the swirling vortex, blue-green light pulsed like an aurora—beautiful and mesmerizing, almost like a painting.

Swish!

Hiranyaksha, undeterred and filled with impatience, leaped into the vortex without hesitation.

Before beginning his rigorous penance, he had already devised a plan. His blessing was meant to ensure that nothing in the world could harm him.

He had made a comprehensive list, writing down nearly everything in the world, and had taken great care to memorize every item.

Whether it was Devas, Asuras, or humans; animals, plants, or toxins—everything in the world had been accounted been by nature or man. Nothing was missing from his list. Nothing in the world could kill him. The swirling vortex of the Kshira Sagara was, naturally, not an exception.

As Hiranyaksha leaped into the massive vortex, Puloman and other Asuras eagerly followed, preparing to dive in as well, their eyes fixed on the swirling depths.

Boom!

Suddenly, the vortex trembled violently, and a dense, blue-green poisonous fog erupted from it. The mist surged into the sky, spreading outward in all directions.

Puloman halted midair, his foot frozen in place as he cautiously observed the poisonous fog with suspicion.

Something was wrong. He took two steps back, and the other Asura generals followed suit, hesitating in uncertainty.

As the blue-green fog swirled around the battlefield, Puloman, Viprachitti, and Vajranga stood atop a craggy ridge, their expressions tense as they observed the devastating transformation of the Milky Sea below. The once-pristine waters had turned into a dark, rotting mass of pus, and the land itself was scorched and lifeless. The oppressive sight chilled even the hardened Asura generals.

Puloman, his fiery gaze flickering with uncertainty, broke the silence. "This... this is poison. A venom so potent it consumes not just life but the very essence of existence itself. Could it have killed the king?"

Viprachitti, his features marred with worry, clenched his fists. "The king... the king isn't dead, is he? Tell me this isn't his end!" His voice wavered, an unusual crack in the stoic general's demeanor.

Vajranga, ever the rational one, glanced at the others, his brow furrowed in thought. "I don't know," he admitted, his tone measured yet laced with unease. "But remember, the king possesses the boon of immortality. Such a blessing should shield him from this poisonous mist."

Puloman shook his head, frustration bubbling beneath his otherwise composed exterior. "Immortality does not mean invincibility, Viprachitti. If this poison can corrupt the sea and dissolve mountains into dust, then even the strongest boon might falter against its wrath!"

Viprachitti's voice rose, defiant against Puloman's grim reasoning. "Enough! Our king is not so easily killed! He has faced countless trials and risen above them all. This poison, no matter how vile, will not claim him!"

Vajranga raised a hand, motioning for silence. "Arguing won't change the outcome," he said firmly, his sharp gaze scanning the decayed landscape. "Our focus must remain on the task at hand. If the king is indeed caught within this vile mist, then we must find a way to aid him—or avenge him."

The three fell silent, their eyes locked on the choking haze swirling in the distance. A shared resolve began to form between them, their loyalty to their king outweighing their growing dread.

"If the king still stands, he will summon us," Puloman said at last, his voice steady but his heart heavy.

"And if he has fallen," Viprachitti added, his fists trembling, "then this poison will meet the full wrath of the Asuras."

Vajranga nodded, his piercing eyes narrowing as he stared into the abyss. "For now, we wait. But prepare for the worst, brothers. This poison is not the only thing that reeks of danger here."

...

Amidst the growing suspicions and fears of the Asuras, accompanied by deafening screams of pain, a massive figure suddenly emerged from the blue-green poisonous fog.

"It burns!! This... cursed poison! "It doesn't touch my flesh, but it feels as if my very soul is aflame!"

Hiranyaksha roared in agony as he staggered out of the fog. His body remained unharmed, but the golden armor and various accessories he wore had decayed completely. They were reduced to a black, brittle form, resembling dough corroded by aqua regia, crumbling away and falling to the ground in shattered pieces.

Hiranyaksha swallowed hard, his face filled with terror as he looked down at his intact body.

It was fine... but...

It hurt!

The poisonous fog couldn't harm him directly, but its touch sent waves of excruciating pain through him. How could something like this be released into the Milky Ocean? Where were his treasures?!

"King, the poisonous fog is spreading!" Vajranga shouted in alarm.

Hiranyaksha turned to see the fog rolling out, expanding rapidly in every direction. "Damn Vishnu! He lied to me! He lied!" His voice filled with rage as he swore, "I'll make you pay for this!"

Ignoring the need to repair his corrupted armor, he surged into the air, flying up with urgency.

Puloman, Viprachitti, and Vajranga rushed forward, their expressions a mix of awe, terror, and concern.

"Lord Hiranyaksha!" Puloman called, his voice cracking slightly. "You've survived! But this... this poison..."

Hiranyaksha swatted the air dismissively, though his movements were sluggish. "The Halahala won't claim me," he growled, his teeth gritted as he straightened his posture. "But its venom reaches where blades cannot. My strength is untouched, yet I feel its vile curse gnawing at the edges of my soul."

Viprachitti's fists clenched as he observed the remnants of Hiranyaksha's once-gleaming adornments scattered like dead leaves at his feet. "This poison..." he muttered, his voice thick with anger. "It's unlike anything we've ever faced. To strip even you of your regalia—it dares insult the might of the Asuras!"

Hiranyaksha shot him a withering glare, though the pain in his eyes softened its impact. "Enough whining," he snapped, his voice regaining some of its commanding force. "If the Devas think this Halahala will be their victory, they are gravely mistaken. Prepare yourselves. If this wretched poison is a test, then we shall conquer it!"

The fear was palpable. Hiranyaksha was forced to retreat. If they didn't leave now, they would likely perish without a trace.

"Retreat!" Hiranyaksha ordered, and the Asuras scrambled to pull back.

On the other side, the poisonous fog was also advancing toward the Devas.

The Devas, confused and unsure, stood frozen in place, uncertain of what to do.

Suddenly, a golden light flashed before them, condensing into a figure that materialized into the elegant form of Vishnu.

His face was solemn as he gazed at the spreading Hela Hela.

"This is Halahala, the poison of death," Vishnu said gravely. "Anything that touches Halahala will be destroyed—even the Devas will fall."

Upon hearing this, the Devas immediately became anxious. They had hoped for more time to enjoy themselves, and now they feared for their lives.

"What should we do? Lord Vishnu, please help us!" Varuna cried for help. "This Halahala spreads so quickly—if it continues, the entire world will be destroyed!"

"Please, Lord, think of a way!"

Suryadev spoke urgently, his hands clasped in prayer as he looked at Vishnu with pleading eyes. The other Devas were equally panicked, glancing at Vishnu with fear and concern etched on their faces.

Vishnu's gaze shifted to Indra.

"I don't know if I can withstand it," Indra said, stepping forward. His Sahasrakavacha shimmered, and a flash of thunder and lightning surged around him, its light a brilliant blue, wrapping around the armor like a protective aura.

"This armor shall have the power to absorb all toxins in the world," Indra declared, his voice steady and resolute.

As soon as the words left his lips, a divine brilliance began to emanate from the Sahasrakavacha. Slowly, the form of Lord Brahma, the Creator, manifested above the armor. His four faces radiated serenity and wisdom as his right hand extended toward the Sahasrakavacha.

"Let it be so," Brahma intoned, his voice reverberating with divine authority. A golden light poured forth, suffusing the armor with a radiant glow, as if the very essence of Brahma's boon had fused into its core.

Indra gazed upon the transformed armor with awe. "It is complete," he said quietly, though his tone carried the weight of accomplishment.

Nearby, Suryadev's eyes widened in astonishment as he watched the spectacle unfold. The resplendent glow of the armor left him momentarily speechless.

"Incredible," he finally murmured, his voice tinged with admiration. "The craftsmanship of the Sahasrakavacha now embodies the divine will of Brahma himself. Truly a treasure worthy of the King of Svarga!"

Vishnu, too, seemed impressed. He looked at the Sahasrakavacha with curiosity, nodding and smiling. "You can give it a try," he said, offering encouragement.

Hearing this, the Devas let out a collective sigh of relief. If the Lord Vishnu had given his approval, perhaps there was hope after all.

"The King of Svarga is indeed a visionary!" Vayu remarked with admiration.

"Yeah! This armor might solve the poison!" Agni sighed in relief.

As the Devas relaxed, Indra smiled slightly, then grasped the edges of his golden sun armor. With a gentle movement, he removed it, the armor glowing brightly as it floated in front of the gathered Devas.

"Now, which one of you will use this divine armor to absorb the Hala Hala?" Indra asked, his eyes glinting with mischief.

The Devas stared in confusion.

Their eyes widened in shock, and they gasped, taking a collective deep breath.

"Wait... if we don't have to get near Halahala, why are you asking us?" Vayu finally managed to say.

Indra cleared his throat, avoiding their gazes. He turned slightly to the side and spoke in a more subdued tone.

"You see, this armor was forged by me after years of dedicated practice. But my divine body is weaker than most, and I don't have the speed to keep up with how quickly Halahala spreads."

Chapter Text

"Which of you is going?" Indra blinked and glanced around at the Devas.

The poison of death, like Halahala, was no trivial matter. Even with the protection of divine armor, he wasn't eager to face it. It seemed much more sensible to stay behind and watch as an observer. The Devas stood silent, exchanging uneasy glances and avoiding Indra's gaze.

Then, Suryadev raised his hand slightly, his golden hair fluttering, and walked over to stand beside the King of Svarga.

Did Surya want to volunteer for the task?

Agni, the Deva of Fire, Vayu, the Deva of Wind, Soma, the Deva of Moon, and Varundev, all watched in stunned silence.

Surya stood tall beside Indra, his posture proud and dignified. He turned to face the others, his head held high.

"The King of Svarga is right," Surya said, his voice calm but serious. "It took immense divine power and effort from Big Brother to forge this divine armor. You must make your decision quickly."

The Devas stared at Surya in disbelief. What a bold move from Surya! Directly pulling out the sibling, little brother card.

"Eh!"

Suddenly, Varunadev, who had been silent until now, spoke up. He raised his index finger, gesturing thoughtfully, a look of sudden realization on his face.

"Speaking of speed, the fastest Deva among us is, of course, Vayu." Varuna's comment made Vayu look at him in shock.

This traitorous little brother!

"That's right! The Deva of Wind is our vanguard—fastest and strongest!" Agnidev, added with enthusiasm. "I would call him the fastest of us all!"

"Yes, that's it!" Soma agreed, nodding.

"Then it's settled. We'll send Vayu!" Surya declared, his tone final.

Vayu fell silent. He folded his hands, turned around, and looked at Lord Vishnu, his face filled with a pleading expression. Please, give me some help!

"Vayu, go ahead," Vishnu replied, his face still wearing that warm smile, as comforting as the spring breeze. "I believe you will be fine."

"Okay~" Vayu could only nod, his words escaping in a strained whisper as he clutched the divine armor. With great effort, he lifted it.

"Go, and we will sing hymns for you, waiting for your victory!" Indra exclaimed, clenching his fists and striking his chest with a thunderous sound.

No sooner had he spoken than Surya and the others immediately clasped their hands together and began singing without hesitation:

'O Vayu, soul-carrier of the universe,
You carry us from birth to death,
With each exhale, we are reborn,
In your breath, we are freed.
Grant us peace, freedom from all burdens,
And carry us to the realm of eternal bliss.'

…

Meanwhile, Indra called upon his divine power, transforming the air itself into a mṛidangam, a sacred drum, so he could play along with the hymns.

"I'm going!"

"Don't come back without success!"

"I'm going!"

"Don't you trust Lord Vishnu! He said you will be fine then you will be fine."

Listening to the hymns, Vayu gritted his teeth. He held the divine armor tightly and activated his divine power. The winds swirled beneath his feet, and in an instant, they transformed into a white horse-shaped divine chariot.

With a leap, he soared into the air, heading toward Halahala. As Vayu approached, the spreading blue-green poisonous mist billowed fiercely toward him. The white horse and divine chariot formed by his power began to disintegrate, corroded by the toxic haze. Halahala surged forward, and Vayu, startled, quickly raised the divine armor in defense.

The Sahasrakavacha shimmered brightly, releasing a devouring force. In an instant, the green and blue poisonous mist was absorbed, vanishing into the armor's depths.

The rolling Halahala immediately ceased its spread, instead pouring into the divine armor, one wave after another. Seeing this, Vayu exhaled in relief, feeling that the danger had been a false alarm.

"Huh~ The blessings for the King of Svarga's hard work are truly invaluable!"

"This divine armor is amazing," he continued, his tone thoughtful. "Once I return, I should encourage the King of Svarga to do more penance. If he grants this armor further blessings, the Svarga will surely be at peace, and the Devas will be able to live in comfort."

The Vayudeva's thoughts were genuine, his belief in the King's power unwavering.

He raised the Sahasrakavacha high, and the golden light flashed brightly. As the rolling Halahala continued its approach, the armor absorbed the poison relentlessly.

With each absorption, the expansion of Halahala slowed, inching to a near halt. Above the sea of milk, Brahma sat cross-legged upon a lotus, gazing into the distance. His eyes focused on the Halahala, now stopped in its tracks.

"It seems the limits of Sahasrakavacha have been reached. But it may be able to contain the poison to Kshira Sagara," Brahma said, nodding slightly in approval.

However, Shiva Mahadeva, watching the poison with indifferent eyes, suddenly spoke up.

"No! Not yet!" Shiva's voice was firm, his tone laden with urgency.

At this, Brahma blinked, a realization dawning on him. He lowered his gaze to the blue-green poisonous mist, his expression tense.

Boom!

Vayu, still holding the divine armor, continued absorbing the poisonous mist, when, suddenly, the Halahala began to churn violently. The blue mist began to contract, no longer spreading outward but pulling inward, toward the center.

Boom!

Endless streams of Halahala gathered in one place, and from it, a terrifying figure began to take shape.

The figure was horrifying: its body gleamed with a blinding light, four large fangs jutted from its mouth, black-brown hair covered its head, and blazing eyes glowed with malevolent energy. Its entire body was encased in a poisonous, bluish hue—undoubtedly a manifestation of the poison itself.

Hala Hala!

Vayu stared in shock at the figure before him. The moment their eyes locked, a sudden wave of pain and weakness surged through his body.

It hurts!

What's happening?

Vayu grimaced, confusion and pain flashing across his face.

Roar!

Halahala let out a low, menacing roar, and in an instant, appeared in front of Vayu. He raised his hand and threw a punch. Vayu quickly lifted the divine armor to defend himself.

Boom!

The full force of the Halahala's strike collided with the armor, sending Vayu hurtling backward. He crashed through the air, shooting toward the other Devas.

The protector of the world, Vishnu, frowned slightly, raised his hand, and transformed into a golden light, catching the rushing Vayu with ease.

"Fortunately, I didn't intervene!" Indra thought, his eyes widening in shock. He took a deep breath and reflected. "I never expected Halahala could turn into a demon!"

Indra hurried forward to assess Vayu's condition. Thankfully, the divine armor had protected him, and Vishnu had caught him in time. Vayu had only been sent flying back without serious harm.

"Lord, what kind of monster is that?" Suryadev asked, his voice tinged with disbelief.

"Halahala," Vishnu replied calmly.

What?! The Devas were stunned. The poisonous fog could turn into a demon?

Their eyes turned toward the figure before them—Halahala's appearance was terrifying. His sharp fangs and fiery, intense gaze made the Devas recoil. The mere sight of him brought intense pain to their bodies, causing them to quickly avert their eyes.

"I am Halahala! I am the poison of death! I am the destroyer of worlds!" Halahala bellowed, his voice booming across the Svargas.

The sound of his roar reverberated through the entire Milky Ocean, causing the waters to churn violently. Even the great Mandala Mountain trembled as massive stone formations crumbled and fell.

No. You are not. I am the Destroyer.

A calm, authoritative voice cut through the chaos.

Suddenly, the sky darkened, and a massive hand descended from the Kailash. It stretched slowly and reached for Halahala.

Boom!

In an instant, Halahala was captured by Shiva's mighty hand, offering little resistance as it was consumed by his fiery nature. The poison flowed into Shiva's throat, not absorbed, but turning his neck a deep, foreboding blue-black. Parvati, alarmed by the impending danger, rushed to her husband's side. With both hands, she gripped his neck, desperately attempting to prevent the poison from reaching his stomach.

Despite her efforts, the poison began to take effect, and Shiva's throat glowed with a dark blue light. As the poison swirled within his neck, Shiva's expression remained calm and resolute, unaffected by the poison.

Parvati, filled with concern and awe, gazed at him with a mix of deep love and worry. Shiva, meeting her gaze, smiled gently, silently assuring her of his strength. He had now earned the epithets Viṣakaṇṭha, the one who held poison in his neck, and Nīlakaṇṭha, the one with the blue throat—symbols of his immense power and sacrifice in safeguarding the universe by ingesting the Halahala.

Without a word, Vishnu appeared beside them, his presence calm and serene. With a graceful movement, Vishnu raised his hand and lightly touched Shiva's neck, an unspoken understanding passing between them. The Devas, watching in awe, stood in reverence, witnessing the strength and selflessness of the god who bore the poison to protect the world.

"Lord Shiva! He endures the poison for the safety of all beings. His sacrifice shall never be forgotten!"

Indra's eyes gleamed with admiration, and he immediately spoke, his voice ringing with reverence.

"This poison may claim to have the power to destroy the worlds, but in front of Lord Shiva, it is as powerless as a drop of water before the Kshira Sagara."

...

The Devas echoed in unison, their voices rising in a chorus of praise.

Watching this scene, Brahma couldn't help but feel a twinge of awkwardness. While Shiva and Vishnu received all the praise for saving the world, he felt almost invisible in comparison.

"At least give me some recognition!" Brahma thought to himself, rolling his eyes. Feeling somewhat slighted, he raised his hand, cleared his throat, and spoke with a touch of irritation:

"Halahala who seeks to destroy the world, I curse…"

As Brahma continued his incantation, he focused on the poison of the Kshira Sagara.

---

Chapter Text

"The demon Halahala is endangering the world!" Brahma declared, his voice resonating with divine authority.

"I curse that once he leaves the neck of Shiva, his ability to think and reason shall be annihilated. His form will be divided into myriad poisons, blending into all things, incapable of sustaining life."

Brahma's words echoed through the cosmos, reverberating across the Svarga, the Pataloka, and the Bhuloka of humans. The power of the curse spread far and wide, shaking the balance of existence.

All living beings, animals, and plants already imbued with poison trembled as they felt the curse take effect. Dasra, one of Ashwini Kumaras god of medicine nodded in understanding and spoke with clarity:

"The poison that moves belongs to the creatures, while the poison that remains still is of the earth. If Halahala were ever to escape from Lord Shiva's neck, it would blend with the poisons of the world, dissolving into the very fabric of existence—forever entwined with the forces of destruction and renewal."

Despite this proclamation, it was evident that Halahala, having been consumed by Shiva, had no way to escape. The curse, though powerful, now served as a safeguard rather than a remedy.

Brahma's act did not go unnoticed. The Devas, with hands folded in reverence, praised him with heartfelt devotion.

"Only Brahma's wisdom could have known the true depth of this poison."

"By his will, the universe is spared from destruction."

Their voices rose in unison, honoring the Creator for his divine intervention, even in the shadow of Shiva's greater sacrifice.

....

Brahma's lips curved into a subtle smile, clearly pleased as he basked in the wave of compliments.

"Uh-huh! Uh-huh!" his four heads murmured to himself, his satisfaction evident.

Before long, amidst the chorus of praise, Brahma. Mahadeva Shiva departed. Their divine presence faded, leaving Vishnu behind, his gaze fixed on the massive vortex created by the churning of Mandara Mountain. A serene smile graced his face, but not everyone shared his calm demeanor.

Indra's thoughts stirred uneasily.

That curse...

His eyes darted to his Sahasrakavacha, the divine armor that had absorbed a substantial amount of Halahala during the events. Would Brahma's curse affect it as well?

Quickly, he lowered his head to inspect the armor. To his relief, the Sahasrakavacha remained intact, its brilliance undiminished. Shining brightly, it radiated divine light. Indra, curious about its current power, activated his divine energy. Wisps of blue light emerged, dancing around the armor. The light shimmered intensely, akin to a miniature sun, radiating in all directions.

But the reaction was swift and unexpected.

"Ah! It hurts!" Chitrasena exclaimed, clutching his head as if the very light were searing his thoughts.

"Indradev, stop it! Stop it!" Tumburu pleaded, his voice trembling with both fear and awe. He staggered back, unable to escape the fiery brilliance of the divine armor.

The light intensified, and their cries grew louder, laced with desperation. The burning radiance seemed to seep into their very beings, overwhelming their senses.

"This light burns! Please, stop!" Vishvavenu shouted, his wings flapping in vain as he tried to shield himself from the unbearable glow.

A cacophony of agonized cries erupted from the surrounding Devas. The blue light emanating from the armor caused them visible pain, as though pierced by a searing force. Alarmed, Indra quickly withdrew his divine power. The blue glow faded, restoring calm to the gathering.

He glanced at his armor, then at the Devas, who were now visibly shaken, their expressions marked by fear and discomfort.

"The poison of Halahala is truly terrifying," Indra remarked. His voice carried a mix of awe and unease. "Even its energy mirrors that monstrous being—merely touching it causes unbearable pain."

The Grandharavas and Devas murmured in agreement, huddling together as they gazed at the Sahasrakavacha in disbelief. The lingering fear was palpable. If a mere glimmer of the armor's glow caused such agony, what unimaginable consequences could its full power unleash?

Suryadeva appeared particularly affected. His expression was dazed, and his gaze was fixed on the sun-shaped emblem on Indra's armor. To him, it seemed as though the golden sun had turned an ominous blue, radiating a toxic energy.

Indra's eyes burned with a mix of pride and excitement.

The effect of this divine armor is astounding, he thought, his lips curling into a faint smile.

"It seems the essence of Halahala within this armor remains potent," he said aloud, almost as if to himself. Then, with a dismissive shrug, he added inwardly:

After all, Brahma's curse targeted the monster Halahala, not the poison absorbed by my divine armor. Plus why would Brahma nullify the boon he gave me in the first place?

Indra stood tall, his confidence bolstered, as the Devas looked on, still uneasy in the presence of the enigmatic power radiating from his Sahasrakavacha.

With a single thought, the divine armor transformed into golden light, enveloping Indra's body in an instant.

Boom!

The whirlpool stirring the Halahala showed no signs of calming. Instead, it churned with greater intensity, sending a brilliant golden beam shooting straight into the heavens.

"At last Amrita! It finally has emerged!"

Vishnu's gaze turned toward the Kshira Sagara, his serene expression flickering with curiosity. Within the dark and viscous whirlpool of the Milk Sea, jars radiating a golden glow slowly surfaced. Rising from the vortex, they ascended along the golden pillar of light, their brilliance illuminating the turbulent sea.

All eyes—Devas and Asuras alike—fixed on the jar containing the coveted nectar of immortality. The air grew thick with tension, an eerie silence preceding the inevitable chaos.

"The Amrita is finally here!" Surya exclaimed.

With that, the stillness shattered. Devas and Asuras roared in unison, surging toward the floating jar. They even ignored the person who was holding Amrita, Dhanvantari, the god of Ayurveda. The Kshira Sagara erupted into frenzied motion as beings of immense power rushed to claim the nectar.

Vishnu, calm and composed, stepped forward. In a single stride, he crossed countless voids, appearing directly before the Dhanvantari. Another formidable figure, radiating golden light from its eyes, materialized alongside him.

Hiranyaksha.

The Asura's colossal form loomed over Mandara Mountain, his presence like a storm that bent the heavens. Winds howled, clouds churned, and the sound of his voice reverberated like rolling thunder.

"Vishnu!" Hiranyaksha's roar shook the Kshira Sagara. "By our agreement, this Amrita belongs to us!" Fury and frustration marred his face as his massive hand reached toward the jar of Amrita.

Vishnu, ever unperturbed, smiled faintly. "No. You were the ones who stirred up the Halahala, and so it should indeed belong to you. However, you abandoned your claim. The Amrita rightfully goes to the Devas."

Hiranyaksha froze, disbelief and rage flashing across his features. His wild, black hair seemed to dance like flames in the chaotic wind. His anger boiled over, his roar shaking the Milk Sea itself. Waves of darkness rose skyward, crashing against the brilliance of the golden light.

"Abandoned our claim?" Hiranyaksha roared, his voice thundering like a storm crashing through the skies. "This is no failure of ours—this is the work of your Maya! Who in all of Triloka does not know of your hatred for us, the Asuras? You will never show us a favor, always weaving your deceitful traps, hoping to see us fall into them!"

The sea beneath him seethed, as though mirroring his wrath, the waves crashing with violent fury. His eyes burned with fury as he glared at Vishnu, his entire being seething with anger. Yet, despite the storm of rage, Vishnu remained as still and serene as ever, his smile calm and unwavering.

"You dare lie to me!?" Hiranyaksha's voice shook the very heavens as he bellowed, his rage consuming him. "It is you who are the cause of this!"

With a roar, Hiranyaksha summoned the full force of his anger and hurled a massive punch toward Vishnu, his arm cutting through the air like a tidal wave.

Vishnu, calm and measured, extended a single hand. The Sudarshan Chakra spun into action, flying from his finger and intercepting the blow with effortless grace. The clash sent ripples of energy through the air, but Vishnu's expression remained composed, though his brow furrowed slightly.

Hiranyaksha is formidable, he mused. Even if I were to manifest the Varaha avatar, it would take a millennium of fierce combat to overcome him. And with so many Devas present, the collateral damage from a battle of that scale would be catastrophic.

It wasn't the time for incarnations. Meanwhile, the Devas surged toward the Amrita. Indra led a host of Gandharvas but intentionally hung back, careful not to rush too far ahead.

Getting too close to the Amrita will only make me a target, Indra thought. The Asuras will swarm, and worse, Hiranyaksha might land a devastating blow.

From the corner of his eye, Indra noticed Vayu darting forward with unparalleled speed. Vayu stretched out his hand toward Dhanvantri and the jar of amrita, the golden light almost within his grasp.

The light of the Amrita reflected in his eyes, and for a moment, it seemed as though nothing could stop him.

But then—he froze.

A sudden force held him in place, as though the universe itself had turned against him. His divine energy surged through his veins, his will commanding him to move, but his body was trapped, immobilized by some unseen power.

What's happening?

Vayu glanced down, his gaze catching something unusual in his shadow. Emerging from the darkness was a strikingly beautiful Asura girl. Her slender figure moved with grace, her waist adorned with subtle patterns of fruit, while her full, undulating curves seemed to defy reason.

Simhika.

Her lips curved into a sly smile, and she licked the corner of her mouth with a pink tongue, a gesture both mocking and provocative. With a casual elegance, she extended a pale arm, and her shadow entwined itself around Vayu's wrist.

The Vayudev was helpless. In a swift motion, Simhika's shadow hurled him backward, his divine form crashing away from the Amrita.

"Hehe~"

Simhika giggled softly, her laughter dripping with amusement. She darted forward, snatching the jar of Amrita from Dhanvantri before anyone else could react. With a triumphant flourish, she flew toward the Asura army.

"Hahaha! Simhika, you've done it!" Viprachitti threw his head back in laughter, his booming voice filled with glee. "Amrita is ours!"

He hadn't anticipated that his wife, Simhika, would silently approach the jar of Amrita. Her innate blessing of shadow control made her a formidable presence—even the Devas were powerless against her manipulation. Bound by her shadows, their movements were completely restrained.

"Mother! That's incredible!" In the ranks of the Asura army, Rahu's eyes gleamed with excitement. His fists clenched tightly, brimming with pride and exhilaration.

Whoosh!

Simhika shot through the air, her trajectory aimed squarely at the safety of the Asura army. Victory seemed within their grasp.

Just as she was about to reach the Asura ranks, Vishnu acted. From his hand, the Sudarshan Chakra spun into motion, its brilliance lighting the battlefield. At the same time, Vishnu's golden eyes gleamed with divine intensity.

A flash of golden light quietly emerged amidst the throng of Asuras.

From the radiant light, a stunningly beautiful woman materialized. She appeared as though woven from the essence of the stars themselves. Her presence radiated an ethereal glow, as if the world itself paused in awe, drawn to the grace of her being.

She was not of this world, but of a realm far beyond, where beauty knew no limit, and no words could ever capture the infinite grace she embodied.

Chapter Text

She was not of this world, but of a realm far beyond, where beauty knew no limit, and no words could ever capture the infinite grace she embodied.

Mohini, the celestial enchantress, was beauty incarnate, her face a flawless masterpiece of divine artistry. Her dark, lustrous hair flowed like a shimmering waterfall, complementing her warm, dusky skin that glowed with an irresistible allure.

Her slender waist curved delicately, and her golden-red gown clung sensuously to her form, swaying gracefully with each step. Despite her enchanting figure, her wide, innocent eyes held a childlike purity, silently pleading for protection—a captivating contrast to her otherworldly allure.

Mohini was not merely an avatar of Vishnu; she was a living paradox—a being who could captivate the heavens and bring even the most steadfast hearts to their knees with a single glance. A divine avatar, the embodiment of beauty and enigma, she was Vishnu's ultimate manifestation of charm and grace, capable of enchanting the cosmos itself.

Gulp!

At that moment, the hundreds of thousands of Asuras charging toward the Amrita abruptly stopped. Their minds went blank as though struck by an enchantment. Frozen in place, they stared unblinkingly at the woman, their throats dry and their breath caught. Many couldn't help but swallow hard, overwhelmed by their desire.

I want her! I need to protect her!

These thoughts burned in the hearts of countless Asuras, consuming them with longing.

"Perfect! The embodiment of Maya's allure, flawless in every way!"

"She is..."

Brahma's four heads turned in unison, all eight of his eyes fixed on the woman. His expression, though serene and composed, betrayed a fleeting glimmer of awe, as if even the Creator himself marveled at this unparalleled manifestation of Vishnu. Even Lord Shiva, known for his unmatched detachment, seemed mesmerized. His gaze lingered, not with desire, but with an intensity that seemed to pierce the veil of her mystery, searching for the divine purpose woven into her ethereal form.

"Out of the three of us, this one does the most outrageous things," Brahma murmured, his tone carrying a blend of bemusement and awe as his many eyes followed her radiant form.

"Jaganmohini!"

"Her name shall be Mohini," Shiva's voice resonated, deep, and filled with a rare reverence that was almost palpable. His intense gaze softened, a flicker of understanding and admiration passing through his eyes. Mohini. The Enchantress.

Just then, a deep, resonant voice echoed softly, as if the fabric of existence itself had spoken. It was Samay, the personification of time, who watched from the endless flow of moments he governed.

"The one who could make even me stand still," he mused, his tone laced with wonder, "just to gaze upon her beauty."

The divine gathering seemed to hold its breath as Samay's words lingered in the air, a tribute to the enchantress whose grace had captured not only the eyes of gods but the attention of Samay itself.

For a moment, it seemed as though his entire world revolved around this enchanting figure.

The Devas, too, were spellbound. Many stood rooted to their spots, unable to look away, their hearts ignited with an unfamiliar fire.

Indra quickly glanced around, noticing the stunned expressions on the Devas. A realization dawned upon him, and he immediately lowered his gaze.

Could it really be Mohini?

The legendary female incarnation of Vishnu, renowned as the most beautiful being in existence, was said to have even fascinated Shiva, the great ascetic, who could not resist her charm.

Indra lowered his head and took a deep breath, forcing himself to regain composure. He needed to resist the allure.

Hmm? A sudden sensation drew his attention. How is my ascetic power increasing so quickly?

To his astonishment, Indra found his ascetic power rising rapidly, burning like an intense flame within him.

Could it be? Rejecting temptation increases ascetic power?! Indra was slightly stunned.

Swish!

Simhika darted into the Asura army, her movements swift and purposeful. She quickly reached Rahu and Hiranyaksha, clutching the pot of Amrita with joy and triumph.

"Child, I got the Amrita! Let's drink it together!" she exclaimed, her face lighting up with excitement as she offered the precious jar to Rahu.

Bang!

To her shock, Rahu raised his hand—not to take the jar, but to shove her aside. Simhika stumbled backward, barely managing to keep her balance.

"Get out of my way! You're blocking my view!" Rahu snapped, his tone impatient and dismissive, his gaze fixed intensely on something far in the distance.

Simhika frowned, confusion and concern flashing across her face. Something was wrong.

She glanced around and noticed that the Asuras nearby were all frozen, their eyes wide and vacant, as if under a spell. Her heart sank. She quickly turned to her husband, Hiranyaksha, hoping for answers.

"Husband, what's going on?" she asked urgently, moving toward him and grabbing his arm.

But as she reached out to shake him awake, she suddenly felt a firm bump against her waist.

"Huh?"Simhika's gaze dropped, and her eyes widened in shock.

Viprachitti's form seemed rigid, he completely ignored his wife who nearly died.

"Husband!" Simhika cried, now shaking his shoulders frantically.

But Viprachitti didn't respond. He stood utterly still, his gaze locked on the horizon. His throat moved in a slow rhythm as he swallowed, seemingly lost in a trance.

What is happening?

Simhika's mind raced, but her instincts drove her to follow his line of sight. Turning her head, she froze as her eyes fell upon a figure approaching in the distance.

Her thoughts shattered.

So beautiful! So beautiful! So beautiful! The woman walking toward them was beyond comprehension—an embodiment of divine allure. Simhika felt her mind spiral into chaos as she struggled to comprehend the sheer perfection before her.

Her body betrayed her; her hands fell limply to her sides, her knees weakened. Like the other Asuras, she could only stand there, trembling. Her lips parted slightly, and from the corner of her mouth, a single crystal-clear droplet of saliva slid down, hanging in the air as if time itself had slowed.

Simhika, like all the others, was utterly captivated, her rationality unraveling in the presence of this divine beauty.

Mohini approached gracefully, like an enchantress weaving a spell over all who beheld her. She delicately tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, her every movement a blend of innocence and allure.

"May I share this Amrita?" she asked softly, her voice tinged with a pleading sweetness that could melt the hardest of hearts. Her enchanting eyes blinked slowly, radiating a guileless charm.

A faint, intoxicating fragrance surrounded her, reaching Simhika and making her cheeks flush a deep crimson. Simhika gulped, her breath hitching, and managed to croak in a hoarse voice, "Of course! Of course!"

Her eyes glazed over with adoration, Simhika continued, "There is no one as perfect as you in the entire world—not among the Asuras, the Devas, or even the goddesses. Only you are worthy to share this Amrita with us!"

Simhika, intoxicated and overcome, raised her hand and offered the Amrita jar with trembling reverence.

"Thank you!" Mohini said with a gentle bow, her smile radiant as she accepted the jar. Her voice was melodious, like the tinkling of delicate bells.

That smile was enough to cause many Asuras to stagger, their knees weakening as if they had lost the strength to stand.

"Y-Yes…" Simhika stammered, nodding fervently. Her gaze followed Mohini as she ascended gracefully into the air. With her eyes sparkling with admiration, she sighed dreamily, "What a polite and wonderful girl. Even her back is so beautiful!"

"Yes, so beautiful!"

"I've never seen anyone like her before!"

"Such beauty—no king, not even ours, could possess it! If anyone dares to claim her, I shall kill them."

The Asuras murmured among themselves, their awestruck gazes fixed on Mohini as she floated effortlessly above the battlefield on the Milky Sea. Even the Golden-Eyed Vishnu watched in silence, his expression calm but contemplative.

Mohini's radiance carried her to the midst of the Devas, who were similarly spellbound. She approached Indra, the King of Svarga, with poise and elegance, her smile as warm as the spring sun.

"King of Svarga," Mohini said, her voice like the lilting chirp of a songbird, filling the air with a melody that made hearts race. "I am Mohini. Here is the Amrita—for you."

Indra, standing amidst his stunned peers, kept his eyes tightly shut. His body burned as if consumed by an inner fire, her voice igniting something primal within him. A soft but insistent whisper seemed to echo in his mind, urging him to open his eyes.

But he resisted. Indra took a deep, steadying breath and extended his hands. "Thank you," he said firmly, his voice even despite the storm within. "Please place it in my hands."

He stood resolute, his closed eyes shielding him from Mohini's overpowering allure, while his heart thudded heavily in his chest.

There was a brief moment of silence, followed by a sensation like a soft kitten's tail brushing against the skin, causing a flutter in the mind.

Finally, a jar landed gently in Indra's hands.

"King of Svarga! I hope we meet again. Next time, open your eyes and look at me!"

The words came like the melody of a lark, light and sweet.

Indra let out a sigh of relief, his body finally relaxing. Slowly, he opened his eyes. He surveyed the scene around him, seeing the Devas with expressions of disappointment. They looked around frantically as if searching for Mohini.

"She was so beautiful! It almost felt like a dream! Do you remember her name?" Surya murmured in awe.

"I forgot… but her face… her face…" Agni said, shaking his head.

"She was beyond beautiful! Even the most beautiful Apsaras pales in comparison! Not even my wife could rival her!" Soma added, his voice filled with longing.

The Devas continued murmuring among themselves, but Indra paid them no mind. He focused on the surge of energy within him, the power of his penance now undeniably greater.

"My ascetic power has increased by a hundred years!" he thought in shock. "What an incredible boost but what a lethal temptation!"

Indra marveled at the power flowing through him, amazed that it had grown so rapidly—without even a direct exchange with Mohini. It was unbelievable. He sighed deeply, lowering his gaze to the golden pot in his hands.

The Amrita inside shimmered with a crystalline glow as if imbued with endless vitality.

"Amrita…"

"The Amrita of Immortality has finally been acquired!" Indra whispered to himself, feeling a wave of excitement wash over him. He slowly lifted the jar to his lips.

---

Jagan – meaning "world" or "universe." Mohini – meaning "the enchantress" or "the one who bewilders."

Samay is a Sanskrit word that means "time" or "moment."

Chapter Text

Indra brought the cool Amrita to his lips. The sweet and pungent taste exploded in his mouth, as fine wine mingled with the clarity of a spring, carrying an indescribable power that flowed from the top of his head to the depths of his divine body. It penetrated his chakras, seamlessly merging with him.

At that moment, Indra felt an overwhelming sense of relaxation and bliss, as though he were immersed in a hot spring that had endured for eons. It was pure comfort, pure enjoyment.

His divine power surged, rising exponentially, growing stronger by the second.

"Immortality and eternal youth! The power of Svarga!" Indra shouted, his voice echoing with excitement. "Hahahahaha!"

He laughed, exhilarated, as the thunder and lightning within his body spread out, extending beyond his divine form. Powerful lightning surged from him, rippling outward like a fountain, crackling with energy.

The Devas looked on in awe, quickly backing away from the overwhelming display of power.

"The King of Svarga has become even more powerful!" Suryadev exclaimed in amazement. "Is this the power of Amrita?"

"I can feel it too... such an increase in divine power!" Soma murmured, his eyes glazed in wonder.

The Devas, eyes wide with longing, stared at the jar of Amrita. Their throats tightened as they swallowed in unison.

Amrita. They all wanted to drink. Meanwhile, Indra, smiling and filled with excitement, felt the Amrita coursing through him, sealing its power into his divine form.

In the 4.2 billion years of this Samsara, he was the first being to achieve immortality. Indra's eyes gleamed, and a victorious laugh escaped his lips. "No Asura can kill me now..."

But then, suddenly, his smile faltered. His eyes narrowed as he blinked, lowering the golden jar of Amrita in his hands.

"Wait a minute..." Indra thought, his brow furrowing. "If I remember correctly, from the stories I've heard, Lord Shiva will bless an Asura in the future. Anything that Asura touches with his hands will be annihilated, even the Trimurti."

Indra's mind raced. There were countless blessings from Brahma and Shiva, and the Asuras were not the only ones who had received them.

The strange blessings bestowed upon various Asuras endowed them with incredibly powerful and peculiar effects. Some were even capable of breaking the immortality granted by Amrita! And how could one forget Indrajit? As an Atimaharathi, he possessed divine qualities that far surpassed those of ordinary warriors. Indrajit was a true Atimaharathi, a status shared by only a few — Rama, Krishna, Parashurama, Indrajit, and Hanuman. What made this even more astonishing was that three of them were incarnations of Vishnu, while Hanuman was a rudra avatar of Shiva.

While there were Asuras who couldn't negate the immortality of Amrita, many others had blessings that allowed them to capture the Devas, imprison them, and even force them into servitude. Dozens of such Asuras remained, their power ever-present. The most notorious being Ravana the father of Indrajit. He was quite a collector, not he would try to capture the Devas including Indra, Surya, Varuna, Vuyu, and Celestial Objects like planets so he could control the destiny of mortals as a master astrologer, Sages, and Wife of Rama, Sita.

Indra's eyes suddenly cleared as realization dawned, leaving him speechless.

Well... it seemed his joy had been premature. The Amrita, which he believed to be the solution, now seemed like the beginning of the Devas' suffering. Indra shook his head, his expression turning complex as he looked at Surya. With a resigned sigh, he stepped forward, raising his hand and placing the jar of Amrita into Surya's arms.

"Drink," he said, his voice filled with a surprising sincerity and a hint of pity.

At that moment, Surya, overwhelmed with joy at receiving the Amrita, failed to notice the change in Indra's demeanor. Like a child with a sweet treat, he happily accepted the jar and began drinking.

Gul-gle! Gul-gle!

Suryadev closed his eyes as he drank deeply, the rolling Amrita flowing into him.

The other Devas—Vayu, the Dev of Wind; Agni, the Dev of Fire; and Varuna, the Dev of Water—watched intently, their gazes fixed on Surya.

"How does it feel?" Vayudev couldn't help but ask.

"Ahhh!!!" Surya exhaled a long sigh of relief. Golden light erupted from his body, piercing the eyes of the Devas around him.

"It's blinding!" Vayu cried. "The power of Amrita is truly a miracle!"

"It's my turn now!" Agnidev exclaimed eagerly. "Hurry up!"

The Devas shielded their eyes from the radiant light, yet the excitement in their expressions was undeniable.

After finishing the Amrita, Surya handed the jar to Agni, the Dev of Fire. One by one, the Devas drank from the jar, and with each sip, strange phenomena began to unfold: flames shot into the air, the water rippled in unnatural patterns, and cold moonlight filled the air with an eerie glow.

"The six of us have finished drinking. Now, let's deal with the Asuras first!"

"Once these Asura armies are pushed back, we can share the Amrita with the other Devas!"
Indra declared.

His gaze shifted toward the Kshira Sagara, where countless Asura armies were already charging in, manifesting as monstrous beings. They clashed violently with the Gandharvas. The roar of battle reverberated through the three realms, as black clouds rolled in, unleashing terrifying fluctuations and sending huge waves into the sky.

Now was not the time to share the Amrita. Moreover, Indra still recalled the Asura Rahu, who could use the illusion of Maya to disguise himself as a Deva and sneak into the Amrita-drinking group.

"Understood!" Soma, holding the jar of Amrita, passed it to Indra.

Indra stored the jar, and with a flash of golden light, his hand summoned a vajra. He pointed it at the Asura armies in the distance.

"Let's go fight the Asura army! The reason for existence! We will never let the asuras destroy the universe for their whims." Indra smiled.

He paid no attention to Hiranyaksha, considering such formidable foes better left to Vishnu. There was no need to bother with them when there were plenty of lesser Asuras to defeat!

The Devas, too, ignored Hiranyaksha, leaving him out of their focus and leaving the battle targets solely on the Asura minions.

"Let these Asuras feel the wrath of the Devas!"

"Onward!"

"Let's go!"

The Devas nodded in unison, brimming with confidence. If they could handle the smaller Asuras, surely they could defeat the others!

Boom!

Suddenly, the sky darkened, and rolling dark clouds rose like flames, continuously swirling into a blood-red hue. A massive hand, stretching across the sky, shot down from above.

"Amrita!!!" The earth-shattering roar echoed through the realms.

"Hiranya....! Hiranyaksha" Suryadev gasped in shock.

All the Devas froze, horrified by the sight. "Lord Vishnu, what are you doing? Why didn't you stop Hiranyaksha?!"

Indra's heart raced as he saw the enormous hand descending closer, its weight causing even the sea of clouds to burn with its heat.

"This isn't good!"

With no time to waste, Indra unleashed his divine power, summoning the Sahasrakavacha, which erupted in a terrifying blue light. The Devas screamed in fear and fled.

The blue light did not scatter; instead, it condensed into a beam, shooting straight into the sky and piercing the clouds.

"Ahhh! Aaaah!" Hiranyaksha's ear-piercing roar of pain echoed again.

The massive hand instinctively clenched, then paused in mid-air, briefly condensing before charging forward again, intent on reaching Indra.

"Airavata!"

Indra was quick to act. He summoned his white elephant mount, and with a powerful leap, white light flashed. The Avrata appeared beneath him, and they soared into the sky together.

So fast! The Devas stood in stunned silence, watching in awe as only the fading white light of Avrata remained visible in the distance.

At that moment, the situation in the sky shifted. The Devas looked up and saw the massive hand descending once more.

They gasped in alarm. "Not good!" Without hesitation, they flew away, scrambling to escape.

Indra, holding tightly to his white elephant, soared into the sky. The white light cut through the Milky Sea crossed the earth, and ascended high into the human world, heading directly for the Brahma Realm.

Leaning forward, he wrapped his arms around the elephant's neck, urging it on. He turned his head, encouraging his mount.

"To the Brahma Loka! Hurry! Come on Airavata, you can do it!"

Indra shouted, his voice filled with determination. Behind them, Hiranyaksha's roar continued to reverberate through the air.

"Amrita! Amrita! Amrita! Give me the Amrita! I was the first one to start looking for Amrita."

"Don't deny me! I will destroy the Triloka and imprison you in the Kshira Sagara!"

The ground trembled as huge footprints appeared in the void, crashing down into the human world. The impact was like an earthquake, causing the sky to shudder, and mountains and rivers shattered beneath the force.

Chapter Text

"Rhaaaa!" A thunderous roar erupted from Hiranyaksha that blazed with fury, shaking the very fabric of space.

The colossal figure loomed over the world, his immense body seemingly capable of supporting the sky and pressing down the earth. He moved with deliberate force, each step creating tremors that shattered tectonic plates and fractured the land. The skies darkened as his form eclipsed the sun, advancing toward Indra like an unstoppable storm accompanied by a dark hurricane.

Perched atop his divine elephant, Indra turned to face the towering menace rushing toward him. His divine power surged in response.

With a flicker of intent, the Sahasrakavacha armor radiated brilliant light. A poisonous, green-blue beam erupted from it with a deafening roar, piercing the heavens and striking the enormous visage of the Asura above the clouds.

"Grraaahhh!" A guttural cry of agony tore through the skies as Hiranyaksha reeled from the attack. The sound reverberated across the three realms, triggering thunderous storms. The mighty being stumbled, dropping to one knee as the ground beneath him splintered from the impact.

Boom!

With an earth-shaking roar, Hiranyaksha's colossal hand ripped into the ground, splitting mountains and valleys. The terrain quaked violently as he hoisted a massive stretch of mountains—spanning tens of thousands of yojanas—and hurled it toward Indra.

Indra's armor flared brilliantly. The divine protection unleashed the venomous essence of Halahala, its radiance corroding the approaching mountains. Under the assault, the towering peaks disintegrated into smoke and ashes, scattering into nothingness.

Boom! Through the cloud of debris, Hiranyaksha surged forward, his enormous figure obscured momentarily. In a sudden leap, he closed the distance between them. His immense fist descended from the sky like a meteor, threatening to crush everything in its path.

Indra's expression tightened in alarm. Leaning backward, he unleashed another surge of divine energy.

Green and blue beams of poison erupted from his armor in a blinding cascade, forming tens of thousands of pillars of venomous light. The projectiles rained down mercilessly, each one slamming into Hiranyaksha's massive chest.

The sheer size of the Asura made him an easy target. Each toxic strike landed with unerring precision, eliciting another pained roar.

Boom!

Hiranyaksha's bloodshot eyes glowed with rage as his grotesque face twisted in anguish. His gigantic form collapsed to the ground, writhing and clutching his chest. His cries of pain echoed across the three realms, shaking the heavens.

"Indra!" His bellowing voice cracked the air, dripping with unrestrained fury. "I will kill you! I will destroy you and finally become the King of Triloka."

The earth trembled as Hiranyaksha's roar grew louder. He plunged his hands deep into the ground, ripping apart the soil and lifting it with monumental strength. His palms turned skyward, and his intention was clear—he would raise the earth itself and hurl it at his enemy.

Indra's eyes narrowed, his jaw tightening as his divine senses heightened. His eyelids twitched, anticipating the next move of the enraged Asura.

A ray of golden light suddenly shot up from the earth, coalescing into a delicate and graceful figure.

Her face was soft and fragile, her beauty captivating. Silky dark hair cascaded to one side, brushing against the gentle curves of her form. Clad in a shimmering golden saari, her allure was undeniable, radiating a charm that seemed almost otherworldly.

She was Bhumi, the Earth Goddess.

Tilting her head slightly, Bhumi blinked her luminous eyes, her expression filled with urgency and desperation. She clasped her hands tightly, as though trying to steady herself, and stepped forward. Her voice trembled slightly, but the resolve behind her words was unshakable.

"King of Svarga, I beg you—please!" she said, her tone raw and imploring. "Hiranyaksha's madness is tearing the Earth apart. He’s drunk on power, destroying everything in his path. I can’t bear it anymore—none of us can."

Her gaze locked onto his, pleading for understanding. "You have the strength to stop him, to save us. Without you, countless lives will be lost. I wouldn't come to you like this if it weren’t the last hope. Please... intervene before it’s too late."

As the Goddess of the earth, Bhumi could feel every tremor, every scar that Hiranyaksha inflicted upon the land. The devastation wrought by his rampage was a pain she bore deeply.

Indra stared at her silently, the corners of his lips twitching as if unsure how to respond.

The beautiful goddess was mistaken. Though his Sahasrakavacha could bring Hiranyaksha to his knees in agony, it lacked the power to end the Asura's life. Bhumi had pleaded with the wrong person. This was not a task for him.

The solution? Varaha. But why isn't he here already?

Indra's eyes widened slightly as realization dawned on him. Of course, the Varaha wasn't just any creature—it was Vishnu's avatar.

With a subtle nod, he offered the Earth Goddess a reassuring smile.

"As you wish," he said.

Bhumi's face lit up with hope. Her eyes sparkled as she gazed at him, her expression brimming with gratitude and anticipation.

But instead of preparing to face Hiranyaksha himself, Indra clasped his hands together, straightened his posture, and cleared his throat. His voice rang out as he addressed the heavens with divine fervor.

"Lord Vishnu! Through penance, I have attained the wisdom of the Vedas and discerned the weakness of the Hiranyaksha. I beseech you to descend in your wild boar incarnation and bring an end to this menace!"

The invocation echoed across the realms, resonating with power. The mention of the Vedas carried immense significance—it was the embodiment of universal wisdom, the eternal essence of Brahman, the source of enlightenment and truth.

Earth Goddess Bhumi watched in awe, her heart swelling with hope, as the skies seemed to tremble in response to Indra's call.

In the sky, Vishnu descended, radiating divine majesty. A regal crown adorned his head, and a golden robe draped elegantly over his form. The Kaustubha gem on his chest shone brilliantly, casting a celestial glow, while his four arms emitted an aura of light that illuminated the heavens.

Vishnu's gaze fell upon Indra, his expression marked by mild surprise.

He had intended to act on his own, yet Indra's warm and timely invitation touched him. A faint smile graced his lips, his lotus-petal eyes gleaming with benevolence. Slowly, he raised his right hand, palm facing Indra.

"As you wish," he declared, his voice as soothing as the first rays of dawn.

From Vishnu's palm, a cascade of dazzling golden light poured forth, resembling a rain of flames and blossoms. The radiant spectacle descended gently to the earth below.

Hum hum! A low, resonant hum vibrated through the ground.

From the golden light emerged a stout wild boar cub. It grew rapidly, its form swelling as though nurtured by the very winds. In mere moments, it had outgrown the tallest mountains, which now appeared diminutive beneath its colossal feet. Its back arched, limbs stretched, and it transformed into a towering giant with the body of a man and the head of a boar.

"I Am Varaha!" The wild boar incarnation of Vishnu, Varaha, had descended to the mortal realm to vanquish Hiranyaksha.

"I am here to end you, Hiranyaksha!" he bellowed, his tusks gleaming like polished steel, exuding an aura of unshakable confidence.

With long, thundering strides, Varaha crossed vast expanses of mountains and rivers, his determination unwavering. Each step resonated like the tolling of great bells, shaking the very earth beneath him.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

Hiranyaksha, noticing the commotion, straightened his massive frame. His fiery golden eyes burned with anger as he cast a venomous glare at Indra before turning his attention to the newcomer. His expression twisted into one of contemptuous arrogance.

Hiranyaksha sneered at Varaha's bold proclamation.

"You? A mere beast?" His laughter boomed like an earthquake, shaking the heavens and the earth. "Even the mighty Sudarshan Chakra failed to end me! The King of Svarga's Halahala poison could not break my skin! Who dares challenge me now? Who has the power to vanquish me, the King of Asuras?"

He threw his arms wide, unleashing a roar so violent that distant mountain peaks crumbled to dust. Waves of destruction rippled through the earth, reducing the ground beneath his feet to ashes.

But Varaha remained steadfast, his boar-headed visage filled with divine purpose. He clenched his fists, each one like a mountain, and stepped forward with thunderous determination.

"I can kill you!" Varaha declared, his voice ringing with the weight of dharma itself. The boar's tusks gleamed with an unearthly light, and his gaze was fixed firmly on Hiranyaksha. The very air seemed to vibrate with his resolve.

Vishnu, speaking through his avatar, allowed a faint smile to curl at the corners of his lips as he regarded the arrogant Asura. "You boast of your invulnerability, Hiranyaksha, but your pride has clouded your judgment. Did you truly think yourself clever when you asked for boons to shield you from men, devas, asuras, and the creatures of the earth? Yet, in your arrogance, you failed to account for the boar when you requested your boon of invulnerability."

His voice grew firm, resonating with the undeniable authority of the Preserver of Worlds. "This form you see—Varaha—is no mere beast. It is the embodiment of dharma itself, the will of the universe given shape. Your sins have overflowed their vessel, Hiranyaksha. The time has come for you to face the consequences!"

Varaha's tusks glinted, and the ground trembled as he charged forward, the embodiment of divine justice.

With a sudden motion, Varaha clenched his five colossal fingers, each as thick as heavenly pillars. Raising his fist high, he struck with overwhelming force, driving it straight into Hiranyaksha's exposed chest.

Boom!

Hiranyaksha's limbs flailed as he was sent hurtling through the air, crashing violently into the ground. The earth trembled under the impact, and for a moment, the world seemed to hold its breath.

The ground beneath him collapsed, forming a deep crater, and Hiranyaksha's face twisted in agony. He lowered his gaze, his expression darkening as he beheld the shattered remains of his golden armor. A massive fist-shaped indentation marred his chest.

"What! What are you!"

Propping himself up, Hiranyaksha staggered to his feet, his horror mingling with rage as he glared at the creature before him. How could this have happened? He—the indomitable Hiranyaksha—was injured! His divine blessings had been broken!

Varaha stood firm, his towering figure exuding unshakable resolve. His deep voice reverberated like a drumbeat across the battlefield.

"I am neither a Deva, nor an Asura, nor a human, nor any being fashioned by Lord Brahma! I am the Varaha, Avatar of Vishnu!"

Without waiting for a response, Varaha charged forward, his massive form tearing through the air with terrifying momentum.

Hiranyaksha's eyes widened, his face contorted in fury and desperation. The golden light in his hand flared, transforming into a colossal sledgehammer. He gripped it tightly and roared, rushing to meet his foe.

"And Now I Shall Kill You!"

Varaha's hand materialized an equally massive sledgehammer. The two weapons collided with a deafening crash.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

The violent sounds echoed through the human world. Mountains crumbled, their peaks collapsing into clouds of dust. The ground beneath them groaned, fracturing under the immense force of their battle.

Goddess Bhumi watched from a distance, her hands clasped tightly in front of her chest. Her delicate face was etched with worry, her body trembling as the earth quaked beneath her feet.

Indra approached her, his movements calm despite the chaos around them. Gently, he placed a reassuring hand on her soft, snow-white arm. His voice was steady as he said, "Let us step back. We must not interfere. The Lord is carrying out the dharma."

Airavata, Indra's celestial elephant, raised his trunk high and trumpeted in excitement, seemingly confident in Varaha's victory.

Goddess Bhumi's worry remained. Her gaze lingered on the battlefield, her voice trembling as she asked, "Can Varaha truly defeat Hiranyaksha?"

Indra blinked and gave a confident nod. "Don't worry Devi! Varaha is the avatar of Lord Vishnu." he declared, his voice filled with assurance.

"In every age, the boar has symbolized raw tenacity and resolve. When faced with danger, it uses its surroundings to its advantage, its strength guided by unwavering instinct. And when it enters battle, its tusks become instruments of fate—striking with precision and power, offering no chance for escape or mercy."

Indra's words carried a calm certainty as he stood beside Bhumi, his hand resting lightly on her shoulder. His gaze was steady, a quiet strength that reassured the Earth Goddess. Her worried expression softened, though the tremor of the quaking ground still tugged at her nerves.

Unbeknownst to either of them, Varaha, Vishnu's wild boar incarnation, heard the King of Svarga's declaration. A deep chuckle reverberated from the boar-headed giant as he turned his determined gaze toward Indra.

"Your words honor me, King of Svarga," Varaha said, his voice like rolling thunder. "Let them guide my resolve."

The battlefield seemed to hold its breath as Varaha stepped forward, his massive form casting an imposing shadow. Though no walls braced his back, his tusks gleamed like celestial blades, poised to end the chaos.

Crack!

Varaha met Hiranyaksha's hammer strike head-on, the collision sending a deafening shockwave through the air. The ground splintered beneath their feet, but Varaha moved with unrelenting purpose.

With a mighty surge, he lunged forward. His tusks, glimmering with divine brilliance, pierced the air with deadly precision, aimed to end the chaos and restore balance to the world.

Chapter Text

Varaha charged straight for Hiranyaksha's giant body. A sharp, cold gleam shot upward, as though piercing through the clouds and splitting the void itself, striking Hiranyaksha's neck with unerring precision.

Once thought invincible and impervious to harm, the Hiranyaksha's body crumbled under the blow. His neck, which even Sudarshan Chakra couldn't mar, yielded as if it were fragile as glass. The skin sank was torn in layers, and with a deafening crack, blood erupted like a storm. A crimson mist filled the air, staining the sky.

A torrential rain of blood fell, painting the earth below in a macabre hue.

Boom!

Hiranyaksha's giant hammer crashed into the ground, powerless in his grasp. Blood splattered across his face, distorting his expression into one of agony and rage. He staggered back, clutching his neck with one trembling hand while using the other to shove Varaha away.

For the first time in his existence, Hiranyaksha felt the cold grip of mortality.

He was dying. He could not accept it. He wasn't the King of Triloka yet.

Desperation ignited within him. His bloodied eyes turned wildly, locking onto Indra, the King of Svarga.

"No!" A sliver of hope gleamed in his frenzied mind. His voice roared like thunder, "Amrita! Amrita! Give me the Amrita!"

Hiranyaksha's cry shook the skies, his blood pooling like rivers and feeding a storm of scarlet clouds. The mountains quaked, the earth split, and the world itself seemed to fall apart, creating a vision of absolute destruction.

Even now, he still had some strength left! Indra's expression darkened, his divine senses recognizing the chaos bearing down on him. He raised the Vajra, his thunderbolt-like weapon, as divine energy surged through him.

The Sahasrakavacha, Indra's celestial armor, pulsed with its power. Wisps of green-blue Halahala poison coiled like serpents around the Vajra. The weapon's tip glowed as thunder and lightning merged with venom, forming a concentrated, deadly force.

With a burst of divine might, Indra hurled the Vajra. The poisonous lightning struck Hiranyaksha's massive form, engulfing him in an incandescent storm of agony.

"Rhaaaa!" Hiranyaksha clutched his head, his roar splitting the blood-red clouds and shaking the earth. His pain was so intense it threatened to strip him of his sanity.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

Varaha, undeterred, charged forward. His colossal form moved with unstoppable momentum. With his fangs gleaming like celestial blades, the wild boar struck again, driving his tusks deep into Hiranyaksha's back.

At that moment, the assembled sages and Devas hastened to the mortal realm.

The once-familiar land was now unrecognizable. Fractured earth, shattered mountains, and rivers choked with debris stretched across the horizon. A blood-red mist hung in the air, staining the world with an ominous crimson hue. Yet even amidst this devastation, the colossal form of Hiranyaksha loomed in the distance, the flashes of divine lightning revealing the source of this apocalyptic scene.

Rishi Brihaspati fixed his gaze upon the wild boar, Varaha. In his reflective eyes, the boar's radiant, golden aura shimmered, and within it, a familiar figure began to manifest—the smiling visage of Lord Vishnu himself.

In that instant, the sage recognized the divine truth. The wild boar was no mere beast; it was an incarnation of Vishnu. Brihaspati's voice trembled with awe as he spoke, "This is… the Yogic Shakti of Lord Vishnu! This is his incarnation—Varaha!"

His revelation spread quickly among the Devas, who turned their astonished eyes toward the battlefield.

"It must have been the combined might of Varaha and the King of Svarga that brought Hiranyaksha to his knees," Brihaspati concluded, still in shock.

The Devas murmured their agreement, their gaze shifting to Indra, the King of Svarga. Draped in thunder and lightning, Indra wielded the Vajra with unyielding determination.

"What a fearless and heroic figure," Vayu, the god of wind, exclaimed, his voice filled with admiration. "Even the mighty Hiranyaksha cannot withstand his power!"

As the forerunner of the Devas, Vayu swelled with pride. Yet a question lingered in his mind, prompting a wistful sigh. "Do you think the Indra left on Airavata to guide Hiranyaksha to the Lord Vishnu's incarnation deliberately?"

Suryadev's brow furrowed in doubt. "Could it be?" he wondered aloud. "Indra, for all his bravado, can be impulsive, proud, and quick-tempered. But when faced with an opponent he cannot defeat, he knows when to retreat."

"Unless…" Suryadev straightened his posture, his eyes narrowing as realization dawned. "Unless he had a plan all along!"

A flicker of pride lit his face as he smiled. "It must be his new divine armor!"

Surya's voice brimmed with triumph. "Yes! Sahasrakavacha has absorbed the Halahala poison, making it immensely powerful."

Surya nodded emphatically, his tone carrying the weight of certainty. "Indeed, everything is unfolding under the careful guidance of the King of Svarga!"

Agni chimed in, his voice steady and assured. "Well said! That is absolutely true!"

The road lay shattered, where the Varuna's wrath had cleaved through buildings.

Soma stood in stunned silence for a moment before nodding. If everyone believed it, then it must be true. Indra had clearly orchestrated this outcome, manipulating Hiranyaksha as if the Asura were merely a pawn in his grand design.

"So, the King of Svarga had a plan all along!" Soma finally exclaimed, a note of awe in his voice.

Hearing the conviction in the words of the Devas, the Brihaspati's eyes gleamed with understanding. He quickly retrieved his pen and began recording the momentous events.

"The King of Svarga," he murmured as his pen danced across the parchment, "guided by the wisdom of the Vedas, lured the Asura King Hiranyaksha to the Bhuloka. This allowed the incarnation of Lord Vishnu, Varaha, to descend. Through their combined strength…"

Sage Brihaspati wrote with an elegant flourish, his script flowing like a dragon and serpent in perfect harmony.

...

...

On the battlefield, Hiranyaksha's bloodshot eyes widened, his final, trembling gaze locking onto Indra. His massive body trembled as his life force ebbed away.

"My brother... Hiranyakashipu… will avenge me!" he rasped, his voice a furious blend of rage and despair. "Revenge shall be…"

With a deafening crash, Hiranyaksha's colossal form crumpled to the ground, sending shockwaves that rippled through the very fabric of the human world.

Let it be an oath, or let the world bear witness—the Asura's shall rise again.

The earth trembled under the weight of his lifeless form, his colossal corpse now a monument to his defeat.

Varaha, the wild boar incarnation of Vishnu, stood victorious. A serene smile graced his face as he folded his hands in reverence and bowed slightly toward Indra.

"Indra!" Varaha said, his voice rich with gratitude. "The Trimurti cannot intervene directly in the world, bound by our karmic duties. But when one who is dear to us calls for help, as you did, we are compelled to answer."

With that, Varaha bent down and seized Hiranyaksha's enormous body. Taking purposeful strides, he began his journey toward the Milk Sea, his towering figure crossing vast stretches of the human world with ease.

The Devas watched in astonishment, their expressions filled with wonder and confusion. They could not fathom what Varaha intended to do.

"I'll follow and see what happens," Surya said, breaking the silence.

...

Viprachitti's voice cracked with shock. "Hiranyaksha is dead!"

Simhika's eyes narrowed in anger and confusion. "The king is gone…"

Puloman growled lowly, his voice full of suspicion. "Did Vishnu kill him?"

Viprachitti, his loyalty unshaken, glared at Puloman. "The Devas couldn't have done this. At least not alone. Only Vishnu could have killed him. We must avenge him." His words were filled with both grief and resolve. The Asuras had lost their king, and now they would seek retribution.

Simhika, ever the supportive wife, placed a hand on Viprachitti's shoulder, but her gaze flickered to Puloman, sensing his rising ambition. She warned, "Puloman, now is not the time for power struggles. We need unity."

Panic rippled through the Asura army, and their once-imposing ranks began to crumble. The Gandharvas, who had been on the defensive, now found themselves watching the Asura army fall apart.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

Varaha, carrying Hiranyaksha's corpse, reached the Kshira Sagara. With a mighty heave, he cast the body into the waters. The colossal splash sent waves surging through the sea, scattering countless Asuras in every direction.

Their arrogant king, once a symbol of their might, had been discarded like refuse. Fear gripped their hearts as the scene unfolded.

"We need to seek out Hiranyakashipu. He is the one who can avenge his brother. We should let our king's last wish known to his brother."

Simhika nodded, her gaze hardening. "We must find him before the Devas can strike again. We cannot allow our enemies to think they have won."

Puloman, his voice tinged with uncertainty, spoke up. "What if we run? Save ourselves. We don't know what the Devas will do next."

Viprachitti glared at him. "No. We are not cowards. We go to Hiranyakashipu. He will know how to fight back. Our king's death will not be in vain."

Simhika placed a reassuring hand on Viprachitti's shoulder. "We stay united. We find Hiranyakashipu and bring him the news."

Puloman hesitated, then growled. "Then let's move quickly. The Devas might already be on their way."

The cries of terror echoed as the Asuras fled, their morale shattered by the sight of their fallen leader and the immense power of their enemies.

...

...

The Asura army crumbled in an instant, their ranks dissolving into chaos.

Puloman's eyes flickered a glint of surprise momentarily crossing his face. Hiranyaksha is dead at last!

His thoughts turned to Hiranyaksha's twin brother, Hiranyakashipu, who was still engrossed in rigorous penance to earn boons from Brahma. Puloman smirked to himself—foolish dedication to such penance would ensure that no one from the Danava clan could rise to power for a long time.

My hard days are finally over, Puloman mused. He was weary of his role as King Danava; it was time to advance to the next stage of his ambitions.

"Puloman- the King of Asuras—that title has a nice ring to it," he murmured with a sly grin.

"Retreat!" Puloman commanded, waving his hand to signal the retreat. The disordered Asura army obeyed, pulling back in utter disarray.

Amid the chaos, Simhika's panicked voice rang out.

"Svarbhānu! Where are you son!" she called desperately, searching for her son. The tumult of the battlefield swallowed her cries, and there was no sign of Svarbhānu.

"Let's go!" Viprachitti urged, grabbing her wrist tightly. He tugged at her with urgency, trying to pull her away from the frenzied scene.

"Husband, Svarbhānu… he's our son…" Simhika froze, anguish etched on her face.

Viprachitti turned to her, his deep gaze filled with both sorrow and resolve. "If our son is lost, we can still hope to begin again. But if I lose you, Simhika, I will have nothing!"

His words struck her heart like a thunderclap, and despite her despair, she allowed herself to be led away, leaving the battlefield behind.

---

Svarbhānu deceitfully quaffed the amrita proffered by Mohini, thereby achieving immortality as two beings despite being beheaded immediately after: his head as Rahu and his body as Ketu.

Chapter Text

Simhika's radiant eyes dulled, her expression blank and dazed, as hesitation clouded her delicate features.

"Besides, Svarbhanu is a master of Maya!" Viprachitti reminded her, his tone resolute. "In this chaos, no one will be able to find him."

He stepped closer, his voice calm but insistent. "Let's go. He's clever—perhaps he'll reach home before us."

Simhika snapped out of her stupor at his words. She turned to her husband, her gaze helpless, her pink lips pressed together in thought. Slowly, she nodded.

She was more than just a mother; she was a strategist, and now was the time to stay composed.

"I just hope Svarbhanu is safe..." she murmured, her voice tinged with quiet worry.

Together, they melted into the retreating Asura army, blending seamlessly into the crowd as they began their escape.

...

...

"Victory!"

"We've won!"

The jubilant voices of the Gandharvas echoed through the sky, their triumphant cries resounding across the Kshira Sagara. Joyful laughter and dancing filled the air, celebrating their victory.

Among the Gandharvas, one armored in golden gear raised a magical weapon high, his eyes glinting with both cunning and confusion, mixed with a look of pride.

"Foolish Gandharvas!" he muttered to himself. "They haven't yet seen the full power of my Maya. All I need to do is follow them back, and with my illusionary maya, I can drink the Amrita too, and become immortal!"

He smirked, his mind racing with ambition. "I will be the first Asura to drink the Amrita. And once I do, the throne of the Patalaloka will be mine forever!"

"Everyone praises King Danava Puloman for his intelligence, but compared to me, he's a fool!"

Svarbhanu felt a surge of excitement, shaking his shoulders in glee. Unlike the foolish Asuras, who only knew how to act on brute force, he knew how to use his intellect to his advantage.

Meanwhile, Varaha's actions remained uninterrupted. He waded through the milk sea, his focus unbroken, as he made his way toward Kurma.

Clasping his hands together, Varaha suddenly lifted the massive Mandara Mountain.

With a powerful whoosh, Kurma transformed into a flash of golden light and soared into the distance.

Deep in the Milky Sea, Vasuki sensed the movement. His many heads swayed slightly, each spitting out snake-like messages, understanding what Vishnu's incarnation was about to do.

Mandara Mountain, the pillar of the Triloka, stood at the center axis of the Triloka, spanning Svarga, Patalaloka, and the Bhuloka. It was time for the mountain to return to its rightful place.

In the tusks of Varaha, Mandara Mountain was torn from the back of the turtle. As Varaha trampled across the milk sea, he gazed upwards, heading straight for the void above.

Boom!

A cataclysmic earthquake rippled through the Triloka. Mandara Mountain stretched across billions of layers of space, cutting through Pataloka, the human world, and Svarga, returning to its rightful center.

"Thank you, Lord Vishnu!"

Varaha smiled, revealing his two sharp fangs. He clasped his hands together, transformed into a beam of golden light, and disappeared.

"It's finally over!" Devi Lakshmi sighed with relief. Her face, radiant like the moon, gleamed with a soft smile. Her cheeks glistened slightly with warmth as she held Vishnu's hand, her joy evident in her expression.

Vishnu blinked, looking at her fondly. "There are still a few things left, but I trust that the Indra and the devas will take care of them."

His gaze met Lakshmi's, and with a slow, deliberate gesture, he raised his hand. Light began to pour from his palm. Wherever the light touched, a vast, clear space unfolded.

The sea of clouds rippled and danced in the newly formed space, sweet melodies echoed in the air, and auspicious colors filled the sky. Flowers bloomed, their vibrant petals swaying in the breeze. Thousands of golden gates appeared, gleaming brilliantly, leading straight toward a magnificent palace.

"What a breathtaking sight! Where is this place?" Goddess Lakshmi exclaimed, covering her lips in surprise.

"Vaikuntha," Vishnu replied with a warm smile. "I call it Vaikuntha. This is the place we'll return to. Our home"

He took her hand gently, guiding her toward the beautiful palace that awaited them.

…

…

Peace had finally returned to Triloka.

In the human world, however, violent tremors shook the land. The colossal Mandara Mountain swiftly pierced through the human world, returning to its rightful position at the center once again.

"Mandara Mountain has returned to its original position!" Indra thought, his mind racing.

While Mandara Mountain had been restored, the battlefield where the war had raged remained in ruins. The earth was cracked into countless jagged pieces, pitted and scarred. Trees were uprooted, and animals were trampled underfoot by the chaos.

Endless waves of seawater began flooding the broken land.

The Goddess of Earth, Bhumi, her delicate face filled with concern, tilted her head slightly. She clasped her hands together in front of her chest and looked at Indra with pleading eyes.

"Indra, I pray that you use your divine power to restore the earth!" Bhumi implored.

Indra hovered in the air, his hand resting on his waist. With a confident wave of his hand, he responded in a relaxed tone, "Do not worry, Lord Vishnu will take care of everything."

Now that Vishnu had vanquished Hiranyakashipu in another incarnation, Indra believed the rest of the aftermath would also be handled by Vishnu's divine power.

Bhumi nodded gratefully, and the two of them joined the other Devas.

At that moment, Vayu rode in on his divine chariot drawn by Wind Horses. He rushed toward the Devas and announced loudly, "Varaha has left Mandara Mountain after returning it to its place. I do not know where he has gone now. Plus the Asura army has run away to Pataloka."

Indra's expression faltered. "Ha, so everyone has left?"

Indra was momentarily taken aback. Varaha had disappeared after defeating Hiranyakashia. Would they now be left to clean up the mess in the human world?

"Could you not pray to Lord Vishnu for help?" Indra inquired, his tone carrying a hint of frustration.

Surya furrowed his brow slightly and responded, "I have offered my prayers and asked for help, but the Lord Vishnu has yet to answer."

At this, a subtle unease crept over Indra.

What is the Preserver of the World doing? If he is not intervening to restore the balance of the earth, why has he suddenly withdrawn from our reach? Could it be... that he is preoccupied elsewhere? Indra glanced at Bhumi, who was looking at him expectantly, her face filled with pleading concern.

"Indra..." Bhumi's voice was soft, almost pitiful.

It seemed they were the only ones left to take action.

"Let's help the Bhumi-devi restore the earth. It's our responsibility as the devas," Indra said, his voice firm.

He turned his gaze downward, taking in the devastation below. After the battle, the human world had been torn apart. Some land had sunk beneath the sea, while other pieces had broken off into islands. Only seven relatively large sections of land remained, encircling Mount Mandara.

"Devas, we must reunite these Continents," Indra commanded.

"Yes!" The Devas responded in unison.

Varunadev controlled the floodwaters, forcing the sea to retreat. Agnidev extinguished the fires still smoldering in the mountains. The Surya, Vayu, and Soma joined by Indra, worked together to piece the islands back into the fractured earth.

Boom!

Indra's divine power surged from his hands, transforming into ropes of thunder and lightning, lifting the islands from the sea and setting them back into place on the earth.

One piece, two pieces, three pieces... Although the islands were vast, they were nothing before the combined strength of the Devas.

As the Devas worked, the shattered earth slowly came together, forming seven broad continents around Mount Mandara.

"Finally done!" Indra exclaimed after several months of hard work. His eyes brightened, and he let out a relieved sigh.

Through these months of effort, his power had grown significantly, accumulating at a pace far quicker than usual. The divine energy he'd gathered now felt as though it had taken nearly a hundred years to amass.

"That's good too!" Indra thought to himself, gazing at the results with pride.

Mount Mandara now stood at the heart of the human world, surrounded by the Seven Continents.

The northern continent was vast, its terrain undulating with mountains stretching in all directions. The eastern continent was crescent-shaped, while the western continent mirrored its form, creating a striking contrast. The southern continent resembled the shape of a chariot.

This southern land was especially fortunate, as much of its life had survived the destruction, with towering Jambu trees flourishing here.

Indra's gaze sharpened, his focus narrowing on the seven continents below. An inexplicable sense of familiarity washed over him, striking his mind with sudden intensity.

"Isn't this..."

Chapter Text

"Seven continents!" Indra murmured.

The seven continents surrounding Mandara Mountain reminded him of the ancient lands he had once known.

Surya standing nearby, nodded in approval. "Indeed seven continents."

He pointed toward the south of Mandara Mountain. "Look there—my son Yama's Yamaloka lies just below. Only with the protection of Yamaloka can this land remain intact. And that land has the most Jambu trees. Why not call this region Jambudvipa?" Suryadev smiled, thinking of his son with satisfaction.

The name "Jambu" refers to the Jambu tree(Rose Apples), a sacred symbol in Hindu cosmology, and Dvipa refers to "island" or "continent."

Agnidev's mind focused on the east and spoke next. "The Yakshas once inhabited this region, which was full of spiritual energy and vast resources. Why not call it Purvavideha where divine energy flows like a river?"

Suryadev acknowledged, "Yes, a fitting name indeed."

His gaze then turned toward the north. "The vast northern plains shall be known as the Kuru Wilderness, the most fertile plains that stretches far and wide. But now, it has taken on new life. We shall call this part the Kuru."

Indra's eyes twitched at the mention of Kuru. Kurukshetra, the field of the great battle between the Pandavas and the Kauravas—a place where countless lives were lost in the war of dharma and adharma. He was reminded of the fate that awaited it in the future.

A sudden realization hit him. "So, this is the land that will eventually bear witness to the greatest war of mortals?"

A quiet hush filled the air as the Indra contemplated the future of this land.

Brihaspati raised his hand and pointed westward. "Indra, this is where you defeated Vritra and rescued Kamadhenu. This land, rich with cattle and resources, will be where the mortal herders will thrive. We shall call it Gokulavideha, for it is the land of cows and pastoral life."

Indra nodded, his gaze turning to the Himalayas. "And to the north, we have the Himalayas, the home of the sages. This sacred range, where the door to Kailasha resides, must be protected, for it is the spine of our world. It shall welcome those who are seeking the meaning of life or those who want to give their life some meaning."

Agni agreed. "The Hima, the greatest of all mountains. Let it be a place where the gods and mortals can do penance."

Then, turning to the south, Suryadev pointed toward the small land of Lanka. "In the far south lies Lanka, an island of great power ruled by Yaksha. It is the domain of Kubera—a place of both divine and mortals. This will remain the sacred realm of the many Yakshas and humans."

Indra deep in thought, then spoke about the Vindhyas, a mountain range that separated the northern and southern regions of the land. "The Vindhyas stand as the natural boundary between the regions, and the lands beyond them are vast and fertile."

Finally, Brihaspati looked to the west and said, "And the Aravallis, ancient mountains full of wisdom and guardianship, must remain as they are. There live the keepers of knowledge and guardians of the lands beyond."

The conversation settled as the Devas gazed upon the mighty Jambudvipa—the land that had been shaped and will continue to shape the mortal and divine worlds. They knew that their efforts in creating these territories were more than just naming places—they were creating the world that would define the future of both mortals and gods.

In a short time, the seven major continents were given names: Jambudvipa, Plaksadvipa, Salmalidvipa, Kusadvipa, Krouncadvipa, Sakadvipa, and Pushkaradvipa. The Devas were pleased with their choices.

At that moment, Bhumidev's beautiful face glowed with a spring-like warmth. She smiled at Indra, her eyes full of gratitude, and clasped her hands together.

"Devas thank you for your help!" Bhumi's voice was filled with reverence.

Indra waved his hand with a chuckle. "Hahaha! It's nothing. As Adityas this is our dharma." He relished the admiration of the goddess.

"May I, then, offer a Nritya for you, O King of the Devas?"," Bhumi said, her eyes shining with excitement.

The Nritya of the Earth Goddess! A rare sight indeed. Indra's eyes lit up, and he nodded eagerly, his divine form standing in rapt attention.

As soon as she finished speaking, Bhumidev, the Earth Goddess, gracefully turned around. Her golden and red dress swirled around her like a peacock spreading its tail, and rhythmic music seemed to emanate from the very earth itself. The mountains, rivers, and forests joined in, producing a melody that was both vibrant and free, resonating with the harmony of nature.

Bhumi's body radiated vitality, her movements as fluid as the winds that swept across her domain. Her slender waist twisted with natural grace, and her arms flowed like the graceful necks of swans, swaying with an ethereal elegance as she moved her gaze left and right. Her steps were light, almost weightless, like a peacock dancing in the breeze, unburdened by the laws of the world.

Her hands hovered near her cheeks, fingers tracing gentle, subtle movements that seemed to call the very elements to dance along with her. Her eyes briefly met Indra's, a flicker of something deeper and ancient passing between them, like the connection of two forces of nature.

Indra's gaze was unwavering, drawn to her every motion with a rapt intensity. A single drop of sweat formed on his forehead, slowly sliding down his face. The sweat, was crystal-clear and sparkling in the light, shimmering like the endless sky, with a faint bluish lightning glimmering within it.

The drop of sweat, carried by the delicate breeze, drifted away from him. It hung suspended in the air for a heartbeat, as if taking its journey, before landing gently on the arms of Bhumidevi, who continued her dance. The air around them seemed to hum with the energy of the universe, as if every breath and every movement were intertwined with the cosmic rhythm.

Tick… tick…

The drop of sweat vanished quietly, merging seamlessly with Bhumi's body as if it had never existed. The very earth seemed to sigh in response. Yet, in that moment, a subtle change took place. Bhumi faltered, a brief shiver sweeping through her. It was a strange sensation, one that rose unexpectedly from her belly and lingered in her chest, like an unfamiliar echo in the vastness of her being.

She froze for a heartbeat, her brow furrowed in confusion, trying to understand what had just transpired. What was this sensation? Why had she suddenly shivered so?

The Devas fell silent for a moment as if caught in the same strange stillness that had gripped Bhumi.

And then, the applause began, breaking the silence like a thunderclap. Indra, his eyes flashing with pride and something akin to admiration, led the Devas in their applause. The claps rang like the roar of thunder, resonating through the heavens.

"This seems to be the Ananda Nritya created by Nataraja," Brihaspathi remarked from the side, clearly pleased with his knowledge, his voice reverberating with satisfaction.

Bhumi nodded slightly, a smile curving her lips as she caught her breath. "Yes, this is indeed the dance created by Lord Shiva," she said softly, a soft chuckle escaping her. She briefly closed her eyes, as if reflecting on the deep power of the dance that had passed through her.

"It was beautifully danced," she continued, opening her eyes again, her gaze lifting to Indra with a mischievous glint, "but a little too brief."

Indra, still standing with his hands raised in applause, cocked his head to the side in slight confusion. A mix of disappointment and gentle curiosity crossed his features.

"Bhumi, why did you stop so soon?" he asked, his tone carrying both concern and a hint of disbelief.

He had been expecting more, yearning for the continuation of such a rare and divine performance, but it had ended too abruptly for his liking.

Bhumi smiled warmly, giving a soft, knowing sigh. "Sometimes, Indra, even the earth must rest," she said cryptically, her voice laced with light teasing.

…

…

As the vanguard of the Devas, Vayu led the Gandharvas back from Kshira Sagara, while the other Devas followed Indra toward Svarga. The Svarga was vast, and its sea of clouds seemed endless.

The mighty legions of the Deva army returned in waves, their presence heralded by thunderous sounds. Indra stood high above, his hands resting on his waist as he gazed down at the unfolding scene.

There weren't many Gandharvas and Apsaras left— but once they drank the Amrita, they would be eternal. Plus humanity will bring forth countless Sages, Pitrus, and righteous souls. As for the Asuras, they would wait until the Rishi Shukracharya performed penance to Shiva and obtained the Sanjeevani Mantra, a powerful incantation capable of resurrecting them. The Asura army, too, would swell in number.

Indra tilted his head, his lips curling in amusement.

"Good grief!" he muttered. "Now I understand why the numbers of Devas and Asuras are always even! The Amrita and the Sanjeevani Mantra are the key."

Suryadev smiled brightly. "Our celestial army has returned with the Amrita. From now on, my son Yama will never have to claim another Dev, and death will stay far away from Svarga."

"Exactly!" Soma agreed his smile just as wide. "This great battle has proven that, with the Amrita, mere Asuras are no match for the Devas."

Vayu nodded in approval. "The Asuras are no longer our opponents."

Agni and Varuna both exchanged knowing glances, their agreement clear.

"Ah, Amrita!" Indra murmured. "This is truly the key for eternal bliss and eternal work."

"Dev, why don't you smile at such a moment worthy of celebration?" Agni asked with a grin, turning to Indra.

Indra raised his hand to his mouth and turned his head, unable to hold back a loud laugh. He couldn't laugh at this time, though. His amusement came not from victory, but from how Surya and the devas were getting ahead of themselves, celebrating too early.

Clearing his throat, he quickly composed himself. "It's better to share the Amrita with the army!" he said, his tone turning more serious.

Chapter Text

The Devas assembled in an orderly line, their presence exuding divine grace. Yama, the god of death; Vishwakarma, the celestial architect and patron of craftsmen; and Bhumi, the Earth Goddess, each approached in turn. With reverent hands, they poured and held golden bowls brimming with Amrita, the elixir of immortality, its crystalline liquid flowing like a pristine spring.

Standing nearby, the Gandharvas Chitraratha and Tumburu began to hum a melodious tune, their voices weaving an ethereal harmony. The Apsaras Menaka, Rambha, and Urvashi danced lightly to the rhythm, their movements were as fluid as the Amrita itself.

As the Devas raised their heads and drank deeply from the sacred nectar, their expressions transformed into ones of awe and renewal.

"The power of Amrita courses through my very being!" exclaimed Kubera, the god of wealth and the king of the Yakshas—nature spirits.

"So warm, so comforting!" remarked Agni his face glowing with blissful contentment.

"I feel stronger than ever!" declared Vayu his voice vibrant with newfound vitality, as the divine essence invigorated his spirit.

The Gandharvas' music swelled, and the Apsaras twirled gracefully, their performance adding to the celestial celebration of rejuvenation and divine harmony.

...

The residents of Svargaloka intoxicated by the power of the immortal Amrita, couldn't help but revel in its effects. Amidst the celebration, Svarbhanu, disguised as a Gandharva, blended into the Svarga's legions. From his vantage point, he looked at the endlessly long line, which stretched so far it made him uneasy.

What frustrated him further were the beautiful goddesses, who occasionally joined the queue, gliding past the Gandharvas with grace.

Svarbhanu watched the line grow longer and longer, his place consistently at the back. His face darkened as a sense of boredom crept in.

"How long will this take?" he muttered. "At this rate, it could take years. I need to find a way out of this."

As he pondered, his eyes caught sight of a goddess in a flowing white dress, passing by numerous Gandharvas. Her elegance left only the memory of her graceful back.

"Who is she?" Svarbhanu wondered, his interest piqued.

The Gandharva standing nearby, eager to show off, replied with pride, "Don't you recognize her? That is Yami, the daughter of Surya, twin sister to Yama, the god of death. She's also the goddess of the Yamuna River."

Svarbhanu's eyes gleamed. He smirked slightly, his hand brushing his beard as he admired Yami's figure.

As a member of the Danava clan, Svarbhanu wasn't as skilled in combat as the Daitya clan's generals. However, his mastery of the Maya far surpassed that of most Asuras. It was this power that had allowed him to slip so seamlessly into the Svarga's army.

"It's time to show my true power," Svarbhanu thought to himself, feeling a surge of confidence.

Without a second glance at the queue, he turned away and strode out of the line, snorting in disdain.

"Only a fool would wait in this endless line. There's a better way, and I'm going to show them how it's done."

Making his way to a secluded corner of Amravati City, Svarbhanu twisted his neck and turned sharply. The magic of Maya began to swirl around him, his true powers coming to life.

In the blink of an eye, the imposing Gandharva warrior vanished, replaced by a serene goddess in a white dress. Her face, strikingly beautiful, was identical to Yami's.

"Devas will never see this coming!" Svarbhanu chuckled to himself, pleased with his disguise.

With a swift motion, he soared into the air, heading straight for the Devas' banquet.

Whoosh!

Svarbhanu moved quickly, eager to drink the Amrita before Yami could. As he flew past the endless line of Gandharvas, he couldn't help but smirk at their unawareness, twitching the corners of his mouth in amusement.

Hum!

Svarbhanu accelerated toward the temple where the Devas were drinking the Amrita. Below, a group of Gandharvas stood idly, watching the festivities from afar, until their calm was broken by a sudden outburst.

"Did you see that? Goddess Yami just looked at me and smiled!" said Vishvavasu, his tone brimming with excitement.

"What? No way! That smile was meant for me!" Chitraratha shot back, crossing his arms indignantly.

"Wait a minute... Didn't Yami just pass by here heading in that direction?" Tumburu interjected, his brows furrowing in confusion. "Why is she now coming from the same way again?"

"Really? You must be mistaken!" Suruchi replied, shaking his head as if dismissing the notion.

"Yeah, you've got it wrong! Yami smiled, and it was at me!" Chitraratha exclaimed with certainty, his chest puffing out proudly.

In an instant, the gathering of Gandharvas dissolved into a chaotic chorus of overlapping voices, each one adamantly convinced that Yami's ethereal smile had been directed at them. Their usual melodious harmony was nowhere to be found, replaced instead by a cacophony of bickering that echoed through the Svarga.

...

As the Devas drank the Amrita, Svarbhanu, disguised as Yamuna, finally arrived at the temple where the divine nectar was shared. He landed in front of the temple, taking a moment to look around curiously before striding confidently inside.

At that moment, Soma was seated, enjoying the Amrita. His eyes immediately fell on 'Yamuna.'

The goddess before him had a youthful glow, exuding vitality and grace. She walked with an air of confidence, her white skirt fluttering with each step, revealing her ankles, as pale as ice, and her slender, snow-white thighs. This appearance was in stark contrast to the usual coldness she radiated.

"She's stunning!" Soma thought to himself. "Yama's sister is truly beautiful!"

Soma's eyes gleamed with interest. He had always been drawn to beauty, especially when it came to women he couldn't attain. Among such women, he had a particular fondness for those who were both gorgeous and unattainable. For instance, he had long admired Brihaspati's wife, Tara, for her elegance, wishing to soothe her loneliness and dispel her coldness beneath the moonlight.

After all, Tara's husband spent most of his time in solitude, following the King of Svarga instead of being with his wife. Soma had yet to find an opportunity with her, but now, the sight of Yamuna filled him with new desire.

"I like what I see!" Soma thought with a grin. "I heard Yama often argues with Yamuna about her free-spirited nature. I wonder if there's a chance for me..."

Nearby, Surya also spotted the 'Yamuna' figure and frowned, a flicker of concern crossing his face. "Yama, keep an eye on your sister," Surya muttered under his breath.

Yama, noticing the 'Yamuna' before him, shook his head in disapproval. He wasn't surprised by the scene—if anything, it confirmed his earlier concerns.

"She always does what she wants," Yama muttered under his breath. "Father never says a word to her. Girls are always favored by their fathers, aren't they? No matter what she does, Father only sees her charm. But if I step out of line even once..."

He pulled a sour face and turned away, ignoring Surya, leaving the latter speechless. Surya rose to his feet, his golden armor catching the light and glowing with divine radiance. His face, handsome yet unyieldingly stern, betrayed no flicker of emotion as he strode purposefully toward the 'Yamuna'.

As he drew closer, Surya's sharp eyes began to notice discrepancies—subtle at first, but undeniable. The light that should have surrounded Yamuna's form lacked her characteristic warmth and purity. Her gait, her aura, her very presence felt…off.

Yama, now glancing sideways, also began to scrutinize the figure he had avoided. His frown deepened. "This isn't her," he muttered, his voice cold and steady.

Meanwhile, Svarbhanu, hidden behind his illusion, felt a surge of excitement. His Maya powers were so potent that even the Devas of Svarga could not detect a single flaw in his disguise or halt his plans.

Amrita—he was almost there.

His eyes gleamed with anticipation as the wind swept beneath his feet, carrying him swiftly past many Devas. His thighs moved so quickly that he nearly tore off the long skirt hindering his progress.

"Devi Yamuna, you're finally here!" Soma greeted with a faint smile. The cold silver light of his armor shimmered, and a hint of concern flickered across his handsome face.

"Mmm!" 'Yamuna' hummed softly, gazing directly at Soma with an intense stare. "It's my turn."

"Of course!" Soma replied, gently pushing aside the beautiful goddess who had been waiting eagerly. He took Yamuna's hand and turned to reveal a glittering golden pot on the divine table.

But just as they were about to partake, a sharp voice rang out.

"Soma!"

Soma's eyes narrowed as he reluctantly released 'Yamuna's' hand.

Svarbhanu, disguised as Yamuna, glanced longingly at the Amrita. He took a step forward, but just as his hand reached out, a strong, fiery-hot grip seized his wrist.

"Daughter!" Surya's voice boomed.

Svarbhanu, frozen in place, tried to pull away but found himself unable to budge against the powerful grip of the Sun Deva.

"Yamuna, what are you doing?" Surya demanded, pulling 'Yamuna' in front of him and glaring at his daughter.

A heavy silence fell over the temple, and all eyes turned toward the confrontation. The air was thick with tension, and the atmosphere was charged with confusion and suspicion.

Then, a deep, joyful laugh echoed from outside the temple.

The Devas turned in unison.

Indra stood grinning, his presence commanding attention. Beside him, a beautiful goddess in a white dress raised her hands, covering her pink lips with a smile of infatuation, clearly delighted by their conversation.

"Yamuna?!" Surya gasped, his eyes widening in disbelief.

The temple fell silent again as several pairs of eyes exchanged puzzled glances.

Chapter Text

There were two Yamunas at the scene—one an imposter. Surya looked puzzled, Svarbhanu was flustered, and Soma's jaw dropped in shock. Yamuna stood frozen in confusion, while Yama frowned deeply.

Indra's expression hardened.

Inside the temple, the Devas were paralyzed with shock, their faces a mix of bewilderment and unease. Their gazes darted around the room, colliding like sparks in a charged atmosphere. The tension was palpable, an invisible flame of conflict igniting between them.

Indra's sharp eyes narrowed at the Yamuna near the amrita.

Moments earlier, he had been standing guard outside the temple, vigilant for any signs of Asuras sneaking in. To his surprise, he had spotted Yamuna lingering hesitantly near the temple's entrance. The noble King of the Devas, unwilling to see a goddess so unsure, had approached to console her.

But then it happened—another Yamuna appeared, identical in every way.

Indra's attention snapped to the jar of Amrita in Soma's hands suspicion flaring in his mind.

The other Devas followed his gaze, their eyes locking onto the sacred jar. A grim realization struck them all simultaneously: one of the Yamunas was an imposter.

For a moment, who is the real devi ceased to matter. The Amrita—divine nectar granting immortality—was paramount.

Soma instinctively turned, clutching the jar protectively. "Amrita!" he gasped.

Indra acted in an instant, streaking forward like a bolt of lightning. His singular focus was the Amrita.

Svarbhanu, abandoning any pretense of innocence, let out a guttural laugh. If he could consume the amrita, he would ascend to immortality. His body swelled grotesquely, his Maya illusion shattered to reveal his true form—an Asura with seven arms and a serpent's tail.

With one hand, Svarbhanu seized Surya, effortlessly pulling him aside. Another hand shoved Soma away, while a third reached for the Amrita.

By then, Indra had closed the distance, lightning crackling in his palm as he prepared to strike.

Svarbhanu's fingers clamped around the jar, and with a triumphant roar, he tilted it back, letting the divine nectar flow into his mouth. In a final act of brute force, one of his massive hands formed a fist and drove it into Indra's chest.

The blow landed squarely against the Sahasrakavacha, Indra's thousand-layered armor.

Snap!

A soft yet ominous sound echoed through the temple.

Meanwhile, the Amrita coursed through Svarbhanu's neck, filling his mind with euphoria and his body with invincibility.

"Hahahaha!" Svarbhanu bellowed, his laughter echoing like thunder. "I have consumed the Amrita! I am now immortal, the first Asura to achieve immortality! There's nothing you can do to stop me now, hahahaha!"

His triumphant laughter filled the air, a chilling sound that resonated with his unrestrained glee.

Svarbhanu couldn't resist spreading his seven powerful arms wide, eager to display his might and intelligence.

Bang! As he rolled his shoulders in a grand gesture, a soft, ominous sound echoed.

Svarbhanu froze, confusion flickering across his face.

He glanced down and felt a chill. His pupils shrank as he took in the horrifying sight before him.

The arm that had touched the King of Svarga was withering before his eyes. Darkness seeped into it, shriveling and rotting the flesh until it turned black and sloughed off his body, collapsing to the ground as a pile of decayed mush.

A faint blue light flickered from the arm, spreading rapidly across his body. It surged over his torso in an instant, racing toward his remaining limbs, neck, and head.

"Oh~" Surya's expression twisted in horror and disgust. He shook Svarbhanu's hand off him as if it burned.

Beside him, Soma recoiled in shock and immediately turned to flee.

"Ahhhhhh!" Svarbhanu's disembodied head let out a blood-curdling scream as the corruption spread.

Boom! Boom! Boom!
In mere moments, three more of his arms blackened, withered, and crumbled to ashes on the ground.

Bang! The jar of Amrita slipped from his grasp, landing heavily on Svarbhanu's massive tail.

The nectar spilled, and the divine energy of immortality coursed into his tail. At the same time, the poison of Halahala—the deadly venom of the cosmos—swept over his body. A violent clash ensued within him, the Amrita's power halting the spread of the Halahala, restraining it to his head and the base of his tail.

Indra, ever swift, darted forward and snatched the jar of Amrita. He cradled it protectively in his arms and turned back toward Svarbhanu with a confident gleam in his eyes.

Svarbhanu was left with only his head and tail intact. His head floated in mid-air, shrieking in agony, while his slender tail thrashed wildly, striking the temple floor in chaos.

But the Devas' eyes were not on Svarbhanu. They all stared at Indra, their expressions a mixture of shock and horror.

"It's not my fault! He did it to himself!" Indra exclaimed, raising his hands in mock innocence.

Still, the gravity of the situation loomed. This was no ordinary affliction. It was the poison of the death itself—Halahala.

With a wave of his hand, Indra absorbed the Halahala, now sublimated into a toxic mist, into his divine armor. The remnants of Svarbhanu's decayed, mud-like body were instantly obliterated.

He then extended his hand, and lightning transformed into a crackling rope. It shot out with a sharp crack, binding Svarbhanu's head and tail securely.

"What should we do now?" Surya asked, his voice heavy with concern. "This Asura drank the Amrita. Even reduced to just a head and tail, he cannot die."

Surya frowned, his gaze sweeping over the grotesque remnants of Svarbhanu.

Soma's expression was stiff and brooding, his face shadowed with gloom. Just moments ago, he had been entranced by Maya, only to discover her true form as an Asura.

"He must be a spy sent by the Asuras from Patalaloka! Detain him in Svarga's prison and interrogate him properly!" Soma said with a bitter edge of disgust.

"That makes sense," Surya agreed after a moment of thought. "Devas, what do you think?"

Indra remained silent, deep in contemplation. He weighed the decision before him: should Svarbhanu be handed over to Vishnu?

The legend lingered in his mind. Svarbhanu had once been caught drinking the Amrita by Surya and Soma. They reported him to Mohini on the spot. In response, Mohini had wielded the Sudarshana Chakra, severing Svarbhanu's neck. Yet, because Svarbhanu had already consumed the Amrita, he could not die. His head became Rahu, and his body became Ketu—two of the Navagraha.

The Navagraha are Nine heavenly bodies and deities that influence human life on Earth: the Sun, Moon, planets like Mercury, Venus, Mars, Jupiter, and Saturn, and the two nodes of the Moon. Rahu and Ketu were the remaining two nodes of the Moon.

"If we imprison him, who knows what could happen?" Indra thought. "What if he begins penance while in prison and grows stronger?"

No, it would be wiser to entrust him to Lord Vishnu.

Indra reasoned that if Svarbhanu ascended to the ranks of the Ninegrahas, he would remain under the King of Svarga's command, making him easier to control. The real threat lay in Svarbhanu discovering the truth of his plight and using that knowledge to cultivate strength in captivity.

The King of Svarga had no desire to plant a ticking time bomb in his own domain. Having resolved his thoughts, Indra prepared to speak, but before he could, Yama stepped forward from among the Devas.

"The Amrita was prepared for us by Lord Vishnu. Now this Asura has drunk it and dared to become immortal!"

"Why not hand him over to the Lord Vishnu for judgment?" Yama suggested firmly.

Indra's lips curled into a subtle smile. This was precisely the outcome he desired.

"It shall be so!" Indra declared, his satisfaction evident. He clasped his hands together in reverence, prompting the other Devas to follow suit as they began to chant praises to Vishnu, the Preserver of the world.

Soma, though inwardly displeased, joined in reluctantly, masking his dissatisfaction.

"Om namo Narayana!"

"Om namo Narayana!"

Their voices echoed in unison, filling the temple.

Amidst the chorus of devotion, a golden light shimmered into existence before the Devas. The radiance was as fluid as water, yet clear as a mirror, and within it appeared the majestic form of Vishnu.

Draped in resplendent golden garments, Vishnu stood with a serene smile. The Sudarshana Chakra, his divine wheel, spun effortlessly at his fingertips, radiating power and balance.

"Lord Vishnu, this Asura used the power of Maya to disguise himself as a Devi Yamuna," Indra began, his tone measured and deliberate. "He infiltrated Svarga and drank the Amrita meant for the Devas. How should we deal with him?"

At Indra's words, Vishnu's gaze shifted, falling upon the bound remnants of Svarbhanu—the head and tail tightly restrained by a crackling rope of lightning, their pitiful state almost laughable.

Vishnu's smile widened, a soft chuckle escaping his lips. The sight was almost too absurd.

Svarbhanu, however, was filled with despair. If he could weep, he would have done so.

Regret consumed him. If only I hadn't flaunted my seven arms… he thought miserably. If I had only three, I wouldn't have touched that cursed armor. I wouldn't be reduced to just a head and tail now.

Breaking the moment, Vishnu's calm and commanding voice rang out.

"Svarbhanu, since you have partaken of the Amrita..."

Chapter Text

"Svarbhanu, since you have partaken of the amrita meant for the residents of Svargaloka, thus you shall remain in Svarga," Vishnu declared.

"From now on, your head shall be known as Rahu, and your tail as Ketu. Both will take their place as the two nodes of the Moon as Navagraha." Vishnu smiled gently as he spoke.

With those words, the golden light surrounding him began to fade, and the Preserver of the world disappeared, leaving the Devas in silent reverence.

Indra stood in the temple, gazing out at Svarga and the boundless human world below. His eyes traveled to the horizon where the human realm and the celestial Svarga met, over the vast expanse of Mandara Mountain. There, amidst the cosmic expanse, stars orbited the sun and moon in harmony. Two faint, dark stars glimmered with divine power, their light subtle yet undeniable.

Rahu and Ketu. The second pair among the Navagraha. Indra had anticipated this outcome.

In truth, dealing with Rahu left few options. Treating him as an honored guest was out of the question. Beheading him was futile since he had consumed the nectar of immortality. And keeping him as a subordinate, like a loyal hound, seemed the most practical solution.

"Recruit him," Indra resolved.

With a wave of his hand, the crackling lightning rope binding Rahu dissolved into nothingness.

"We are all Devas now," Indra announced with a warm smile, extending his arms as if welcoming an ally.

Rahu, however, was still reeling in confusion. Just like that? Am I truly a deva now?

The thought of standing among the Devas and battling Asuras unsettled him deeply. What if the Asura armies attack Svarga? Will I be struck down alongside them?

Doubt clouded his mind, and his eyes grew dull with uncertainty. But then, as Indra stepped toward him with open arms, Rahu froze. His face turned pale, and his fear was unmistakable.

"Hey—!" Rahu cried out in panic.

Reacting instinctively, his head spun wildly as he tried to flee. In his haste, he crashed directly into one of the massive temple pillars with a resounding thud.

Ketu, his tail, flailed in tandem with the head's chaotic movements, smacking against the same pillar with a loud crack.

Together, Rahu's head and Ketu's tail slid down the pillar in a dazed heap.

Indra lowered his head, placing his hands on his hips, and gazed at Rahu with a mix of exasperation and bemusement.

Am I really that intimidating?

"Lord... King of Svarga!" Rahu mustered his courage, his voice trembling as he struggled to catch his breath.

"Yes," Indra acknowledged with a nod. "Svarga is vast. You might feel disoriented at first. Someone should help you get acquainted with it."

As he spoke, Indra glanced around the assembly of Devas.

Hearing this, Surya let out a soft chuckle. He understood the unspoken intent behind Indra's words.

Ah, he means someone needs to keep an eye on this Asura.

"I'll do it," Surya said coolly, his tone laced with authority.

"I'm coming too," Soma interjected in a deep, dissatisfied voice. His face betrayed his displeasure as he stepped forward.

Soma's irritation wasn't just because Rahu had infiltrated Svarga—it was also because he had misinterpreted the signs from the goddess Yamuna, thinking they had been meant for something, or someone, else.

This Asura... truly detestable.

Indra blinked in surprise, momentarily silent. The tension between the two Devas was evident, and neither seemed particularly genuine in their offers.

"I meant someone to guide him through Svarga, literally!" Indra clarified, raising an eyebrow.

"That's exactly what we mean," Surya and Soma replied in unison, their voices steady, though their eyes betrayed their hidden agendas.

"Really?" Indra asked, unconvinced.

"Really," they confirmed, each nodding earnestly.

"Are you leaving, then?" Indra turned to look at Rahu, his tone even but expectant.

"Yes, yes, I'll go!" Rahu looked flustered, his head darting upward as he frantically shook it in the air.

He couldn't bear to remain near the King of Svarga any longer. Just standing in Indra's presence made him feel as though his body was being corroded by the remnants of Halahala. A deep, unsettling sense of powerlessness crept into his heart.

Even now, as he glanced back, he felt a chill lingering on the back of his head.

"Then go!" Indra commanded, waving him off.

At this, Suryadev and Soma began leading the way, and Rahu wasted no time following. He spun around and flew off at a brisk pace, Ketu trailing behind, wagging his tail with erratic enthusiasm.

"That tail's perfect for holding a rope," Indra mused with a smirk, the image of walking a dog briefly amusing him.

Nearby, Goddess Yamuna hurried over to Yama, lifting her skirt slightly as she moved in delicate, hurried steps. "Brother..." she began softly.

But before she could continue, Yama's blue face darkened, his expression growing stormy. He ignored her completely, his heavy steps carrying him directly to Indra.

Clasping his hands together, Yama spoke in a deliberate and measured tone.

"Uncle," he began, "the human world has suffered destruction. My city, Yamaloka, has also been affected and requires repairs. I hope the King can send the God of Craftsman to assist us."

Yama's face softened slightly as he finished speaking, though his tone remained serious.

Yamaloka is said to be located in the southern direction, beneath the earth, as one of the many realms in the afterlife. Where souls go after death, where Yama judges them based on their deeds during their lifetime, deciding their fate and determining whether they are to be reborn, sent to Svarga (heaven), or sent to Naraka (hell).

Indra blinked in surprise at the request. He had originally planned to task the craftsman god, Vishvakarma, with creating a secure place to store the Amrita. But considering the repairs needed in Yama City, he decided it could wait.

"That's not a problem. Just go find him yourself!" Indra replied casually. "By the way, isn't Vishvakarma your grandfather? Why don't you just ask him directly?"

Yama stiffened, his expression grim. "There should still be a formal process," he said solemnly. "Besides, I don't have a good relationship with him."

Indra raised an eyebrow. "Why not?"

Yama hesitated before answering, his voice tinged with bitterness. "Vishvakarma created the Yamaloka, the realm of the dead, without consulting me first. He made it a vast, intricate realm, full of endless paths and overwhelming design—he never considered how it would feel to govern such a place, to be endlessly burdened by the souls and their suffering."

Indra's gaze softened with understanding. "So, it's not just a matter of family, but of how he tied your existence to this ceaseless task?"

Yama nodded slowly, the weight of his role clear in his eyes. "Exactly. His brilliance as a creator is undeniable, but the very structure of Yamaloka is... suffocating. I was thrust into this responsibility without the chance to choose my own path. And that's something I can never forgive him for."

Indra sighed inwardly, shaking his head slightly. What a complicated family dynamic.

...

In the lush palace garden, Vajranga sat cross-legged on the grass, his knees bent. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, and supported his chin with one hand. A melancholy expression clouded his face.

Around him, the vegetation bloomed vibrantly, their colors a stark contrast to his somber mood. Nearby, a majestic white horse grazed with its head bowed. This was Uchchaihshravas, the divine horse churned from the sea of milk.

"Brother Hiranyaksha is really gone," Vajranga murmured, his voice heavy with sorrow. "The Devas have the Trimurti's support, and now they possess Amrita. How can we ever stand against them?"

He paused, his brows furrowing deeper. "I fear what will happen when Hiranyakashipu returns from his penance. If he finds out Hiranyaksha was killed by the Devas and Vishnu, he'll undoubtedly gather an army of Asuras and march straight to Svarga."

He sighed, long and weary. "He might even go so far as to forbid anyone from praising Devas and Vishnu to weaken them."

Vajranga's fingers tangled in his hair as his frustration grew. Hiranyaksha and Hiranyakashipu, twin brothers, were each powerful in their own right—Hiranyaksha, proud and reckless; Hiranyakashipu, unyielding and obstinate. But could even Hiranyakashipu's wrath overcome the might of the Trimurti?

"If only there was a way..."

Vajranga turned to Uchchaihshravas, his tone half-pleading. "Uchchaihshravas, what do you think I should do?"

The divine horse lifted its head slightly, its mane fluttering as if carried by an unseen breeze. It glanced at Vajranga briefly, then returned to grazing, chewing the tender grass with an air of indifference.

"Even a horse can ignore me now," Vajranga muttered, chuckling faintly to himself. "I suppose silence is its kind of advice. Perhaps I should just focus on my penance and grow stronger."

But the white horse stood tall and aloof, its four hooves shifting gracefully, utterly uninterested in Vajranga's plight. Not a single neigh escaped its mouth.

Vajranga laughed bitterly. "Ha! As silent as ever."

Just then, an Asura warrior appeared, his figure flashing into view. He knelt on one knee, bowing his head.

"General, King of Danava has sent an envoy. He requests your presence at the Asura Temple to discuss revenge for the king."

Vajranga's brow creased. "King of the Danavas? Puloman? Why him, of all people? Where is a teacher?"

"The envoy was indeed sent by King Danava," the warrior replied, his tone cautious. "As for the Asuru Guru Shukracharya, no one knows his whereabouts. However, there are rumors he was seen with the two princes."

"Hm?" Vajranga's hand rubbed his rugged chin, his eyes narrowing thoughtfully. A sudden gleam of understanding lit up his face.

"Tell Puloman I am entering penance. I won't attend." His voice was deep and resolute.

"Yes, General!" The Asura warrior bowed before swiftly retreating.

Vajranga sat still for a moment, his expression inscrutable. A faint smile tugged at his lips as his gaze sharpened, brimming with purpose.

"Teacher," he whispered, almost to himself, "are you looking for Hiranyakashipu?" His eyes sparkled with a fiery determination.

---

Chapter Text

Patalaloka: The Asura Temple

The temple stood in shadow, its massive pillars towering like ancient sentinels. Deep scratches from knives and axes adorned the stone, each mark a testament to its age and the violent history of the Asuras. Flames flickered around the temple's perimeter, their light casting eerie patterns on the walls and illuminating faces that alternated between bright and shadowed.

Within the temple, many Asura generals had gathered. They were a diverse assembly—tall or short, fat or thin—but each radiated a fierce, malevolent aura that filled the space with tension.

"I have brought a message. General Vajranga has begun intense penance and will not be attending!"

The sudden report from an Asura soldier broke the uneasy quiet.

Puloman, seated near the center, maintained a calm demeanor. His gaze, however, drifted toward the depths of the temple. At its heart was a raised platform, shrouded in dim light. It was empty save for a dark, imposing throne that loomed in the center. To Puloman, the throne seemed to pulse with an almost magnetic glow.

That was where Hiranyaksha once sat.

"Since Vajranga is occupied with his penance," Puloman began, his voice measured and commanding, "there is no need to wait for him. We must proceed with the discussion here and now."

He stood, pointing a finger toward the gathered generals, his gaze sweeping across the room.

"A Kingdom cannot remain without a ruler, nor can its land go untended. The Asuras need a king. The time has come to decide who will take the throne!"

The generals exchanged glances, their expressions tense. Among them stood notable figures: Viprachitti, Simhika, Shumbha, and Nishumbha. All were once loyal to Hiranyaksha, but his death had left them uncertain, their unity fragile.

"Where is the Asura guru? Without him who will do the Rājyābhiṣeka?" Simhika suddenly demanded, her sharp voice cutting through the murmurs.

Shukracharya, the revered mentor of the Asuras, was pivotal in matters as significant as selecting a new king. His absence was conspicuous and troubling.

Puloman sighed deeply, adopting a look of sorrow. "Alas! After being angered by Hiranyaksha's actions, the teacher has left us. His whereabouts are unknown. Despite our efforts, we have been unable to find him."

He paused, letting the weight of his words settle over the room. "But the throne of the Asura King cannot remain vacant. We have no choice but to proceed without him and choose a new ruler."

Puloman's tone was resolute, his eyes scanning the room for any sign of dissent.

The gathered generals remained silent, their faces grim as the flames reflected their inner turmoil.

The group standing before Puloman comprised the current Asura generals in power. They were formidable individuals, commanding significant influence and numerous supporters.

Yet Puloman was not intimidated. In his eyes, defeating them would not be overly challenging.

The ones he truly feared were Hiranyaksha, Hiranyakashipu, and Vajranga. Against their might, even he could not prevail. But these generals? They were within his reach, especially with the subtle and deceptive powers of Maya at his disposal.

Puloman held the sons of the mighty Hiranyaksha and Hiranyakashipu in utter disdain.

Hiranyakashipu's son, Saṃhrāda, was wholly unremarkable. His military skills were lackluster, his presence almost insignificant—hardly a figure worth acknowledging. As for his other son, Prahlada, he was nothing more than an infant, utterly inconsequential in Puloman's eyes.

Then there was Hiranyaksha's adopted son—a source of endless amusement to Puloman. The child, found abandoned in the wild, was lucky enough to be taken in and adopted by Hiranyaksha as his stepson. The boy was named Andhaka.

What Puloman found most laughable was that Andhaka was blind. A blind man could never become king. And if he dared to claim the throne, it would only lead to his ruin.

"A blind son!" Puloman thought with disdain. "What could a blind man possibly achieve? He isn't even an Asura. No matter how desperate the Asuras might become, the throne would never fall to someone like him!"

Viprachitti interrupted Puloman's thoughts. "The teacher is absent, and Hiranyakashipu and Vajranga are still immersed in their penance. Perhaps it's better to wait before making any decisions," he suggested cautiously.

Puloman's lips curled in a faint sneer. Viprachitti clearly underestimated the dangers they faced. Did he not understand the strength of the brothers Hiranyaksha and Hiranyakashipu? And once Hiranyakashipu completed his rigorous training, who knew what terrifying new power he might wield?

"That's too late!" Puloman countered sharply. "The Devas have already obtained the Amrita. If they decide to retaliate for our actions at the Kshira Sagara and lead the Svarga's army against us, it will be too late to act! We must make a choice now!"

At that moment, Shumbha stepped forward. His piercing blue eyes and golden markings on his forehead gave him a commanding presence. He waved dismissively and let out a cold snort.

"In that case, let the rules of the world decide," Shumbha declared. "Strength is what matters. The strongest among us should claim the throne of the Asura King. Whoever wins in battle shall rule."

"I agree," said Niṣumbha without hesitation.

Puloman allowed a faint smile to grace his face. "Good! That makes it three to two. So be it!"

With a triumphant expression, Puloman strode out of the hall, his steps confident, and his hand gesturing grandly, as though the Asura throne was already within his grasp.

Boom!
Boom!

The ground trembled violently as if the earth itself was about to be turned inside out. Terrifying shockwaves spread across the land, sending ripples through the very fabric of the world. At the edges of the land, the tectonic plates cracked open, and scarlet magma erupted, spilling out in torrents. The searing heat and the pungent stench of sulfur filled the air, spreading like a plague.

Endless waves of sand and debris rained down from the temple, crashing to the ground and disintegrating into countless fragments of dust.

Inside the temple, everyone was thrown off balance, swaying helplessly from side to side, unable to regain their footing.

"The power of penance!"

"This is the power of ascetic practice—an energy so great it reaches beyond the sky. Someone must have pleased Brahama or Shiva through their pure devotion!"

Viprachitti staggered, his eyes locked on the outside of the temple. An invisible force shot out into the world, tearing through everything it encountered, destroying all in its path.

!!!

Puloman's face twisted with fury. His eyes bulged, bloodshot and glowing a deep scarlet, his expression a jumbled mix of resentment, anger, and disbelief. His hands clenched so tightly that his nails dug into his palms, drawing blood. Through gritted teeth, he forced out the words, his voice hoarse with rage.

"Hiranyakashipu!!!"

....

Brahma Loka

A blue-white holy light filled the air, and the fragrant scent of lotus flowers drifted through it. Goddess Sarasvati sat cross-legged upon a lotus, a serene smile in her eyes. In her arms, she gently played the veena, filling the air with the enchanting music of Svarga.

It was another beautiful day in Brahma Loka, though there was one presence that marred the peace.

Brahma sat on a lotus, his snow-white eyebrows slightly raised as his eyes lowered to rest on a chubby, grinning sage below.

This muni perhaps the happiest man in the Triloka, wore a bright orange-red robe and a fragrant garland around his neck. His ever-present, cheerful smile seemed to radiate ease and contentment, and he held a veena of his own.

He was the wandering muni, Narada—ever mischievous, ever bold.

"Narayana Naryana~" Narada Muni chanted, his voice lilting with reverence as he praised Vishnu, his Lord. Then, with a grin, he spread his arms and said, "Father, all the Devas in Svarga have returned, and the threat of Hiranyaksha has been dealt with. Can I leave now?"

Brahma's expression remained unchanged.

"I know you can come and go as you please in the Brahma Loka. There is nothing here to stop you." He paused, his gaze hardening slightly. "But you were the one who told Shukracharya about the Amrita and allowed him to run off to the Kshira Sagara with Hiranyaksha. It caused a great deal of trouble. I had hoped you would remain in peace for a while, but if you refuse, I will have no choice but to keep a closer eye on you."

"Why do you want me to become entangled in family life? Instead, seek the path to Mukti." Narada had asked Haryashvas and Shabalashvas, who were created by Prajapati Daksha to populate the earth.

Narada had tricked the thousand sons of the great Prajapati Daksha, convincing them all to become ascetics and lead a life of renunciation, leaving Daksha with nothing but a multitude of daughters.

This infuriated Prajapati Daksha, who, in his anger, cursed Narada Rishi to never have a fixed abode.

Narada Muni, however, accepted the curse with a smile, pleased by it. He relished the freedom it granted him. The curse allowed him to wander without restrictions, traveling across the Triloka at will, making it easier for him to cause trouble and enjoy himself.

"This is all Rishi Shukracharya's doing," Narada Muni mused, tilting his head and spreading his hands with a soft smile. "I never told him to share this with the Asuras."

"Hum~" Brahma couldn't help but roll his eyes at Narada's words.

At that moment, the sounds of praise echoed throughout Brahma Loka, and the sacred air reverberated, sending ripples through the blue expanse of the realm.

"Om Brahamane namah~"

"Om Brahamane namah~"

…

"There are believers who have achieved perfection through penance!"

Amidst the praises, Brahma's expression gradually softened, and a sense of joy filled his heart. With a smile, golden light radiated from his body, and he vanished from Brahma Loka.

Narada Muni's eyes sparkled at this sight. He clasped his hands together and exclaimed in surprise, "Narayana Narayana~" He then turned and quietly left.

"Narada~ Nath asked you to stay here." The sweet voice of Devi Sarasvati called out behind him.

"I'm just going for a walk!" Narada Muni turned, spreading his hands and shrugging with an embarrassed smile.

Devi Sarasvati smiled, but her silence spoke volumes. She didn't believe him.

Narada Muni clasped his hands together, a pleading look crossing his face as he addressed her, "Please let me go, Mother!"

---

Rājyābhiṣeka is a Sanskrit term that refers to the ceremonial consecration or coronation of a ruler or king, marking their formal anointment and ascension to the throne.

Chapter Text

The Trimurti—the three principal gods, Brahma, Vishnu, and Shiva—represent the cosmic functions of creation, preservation, and destruction, respectively. These gods are self-manifested, emerging not from birth, but from their own divine essence. Brahma, the Creator, is the source of all life, and from him, nearly every form of existence has sprung.

Yet, despite the vast beauty of creation, something was amiss. The universe was void of voice, wisdom, and rhythm. Troubled by this silence, Brahma meditated deeply, seeking a solution. He realized that to breathe true life into his creation, he required something far beyond raw power—he needed Vak, the divine essence of speech, knowledge, and creativity.

From Brahma's mind, radiant as the dawn, emerged Vak, the Goddess of Speech and Wisdom, later known as Saraswati. With her arrival, the silence was shattered, and the universe was imbued with the melody of knowledge, the rhythm of creation, and the voice of wisdom.

Narada Muni on the other hand was Brahma's mind-born son and the first cosmic messenger.

Upon hearing this, Devi Saraswati smiled and shook her head. Her eyelids fluttered slightly before she closed her eyes.

"Thank you, Mother!" Narada Muni exclaimed joyfully, clasping his hands in reverence. He then turned and vanished into Brahma Loka.

"Where should I go next?" He wondered. "That sound of tapasaya must be coming from Patalaloka. My father is there, so I'll head to the Svarga loka instead." Narada smiled to himself as he set off.

…

…

In the heart of a seething magma pool, intense heat radiated, exuding a terrifying power of extreme warmth.

A tall, bare-chested man stood on one foot in the molten lava. His hair was disheveled, his body withered, and his face covered in ashes. Yet, despite his gaunt appearance, his facial features were unmistakably those of King Asura Hiranyaksha, with hardly any difference.

He was Hiranyaksha's twin brother—Hiranyakashipu!

"Om Brahamane namah~"

"Om Brahamane namah~"

Hiranyakashipu tightly shut his eyes, his lips constantly murmuring praise to Brahma, the God of Creation. The immense power of his penance radiated from his body, transforming into countless invisible forces, wreaking havoc on everything nearby. Lava, rocks, and even earth and wood were reduced to ashes under the overwhelming might of his devotion.

A brilliant golden light appeared in the sky, signaling Brahma's descent. Brahma gazed down at Hiranyakashipu, his smile faltering for a moment, feeling a twinge of awkwardness. But now that he was here, there was no turning back. The ritual must be completed.

With a soft grunt, Brahma raised his right hand. A golden light streamed from his palm and descended upon Hiranyakashipu. In that instant, the power of Brahma calmed the magma, dispelled the searing heat, healed the wounds that marred Hiranyakashipu's body, and restored his once-majestic form.

Hiranyakashipu's eyes snapped open. He lowered his gaze to his revitalized body, his eyes narrowing with intense excitement. The long and arduous penance was finally complete!

"You have given everything to this moment. Whatever your heart desires, it shall be yours. Speak, and it will come to pass.," Brahma said slowly.

Hiranyakashipu raised his head, his eyes blazing with anticipation. He spread his arms wide, his voice filled with greed as he made his request. "I want to live forever since I was born!"

"Brahma-pita please fulfil my little wish!" Hiranyakashipu exclaimed, his voice trembling with excitement.

"I cannot grant the blessing of immortality! Life is truth, and death is also truth. Birth, old age, sickness, and death are the cycles of existence and the fundamental laws of the universe. The blessing of immortality goes against these laws. Even Shiva and Vishnu cannot bestow such a boon."

"Ask for something else!" Brahma explained.

Upon hearing this, Hiranyakashipu's initial pride and excitement from his successful penance began to fade.

Is that so? His eyes grew calm. He took a deep breath, steadying himself. Looking up at Brahma, he clasped his hands together, bowed slightly, and spoke the blessing he had prepared.

"My lord, the greatest of gift-givers! If you are kind enough to grant me a favor, please protect me from harm by the beings you have created!" Hiranyakashipu's voice grew louder, filled with rising excitement and ambition.

"Grant me that I shall not die in any house or outdoors, neither by day nor by night, on earth nor in the sky! Let no being, whether living or non-living, be capable of causing my death. I ask that none of your creatures—be it devas, asuras, or mortals—can harm me! No weapon shall have the power to slay me, nor shall man, beast, or any other creature be able to defeat me!"

"Grant that I may never perish from existence or non-existence and that no divine being, demon, or any force shall be able to take my life! Even the Nagas of the netherworld shall not harm me!"

With his arms raised in a gesture of triumph, Hiranyakashipu shouted:

"No one shall be able to harm me on the battlefield. I will be invincible! No enemy will be able to defeat me! No power will be strong enough to overcome me!"

"Therefore, grant me invincibility, O Lord! Give me the incredible power that I have earned through my penance, a strength I can never lose!"

Hiranyakashipu's eyes gleamed, his voice burning with passion. He waved his arms grandly, as though conducting an orchestra, his words flowing like a powerful chant as he detailed his blessings.

Brahma listened patiently to the blessings Hiranyakashipu desired.

Without a doubt, This request was more challenging than the Hiranyaksha blessing. If there were a grading system for asking for boons, Brahma would undoubtedly give Hiranyakashipu full marks for his logical approach. Indeed, this was no major loophole! It was perfectly aligned with the natural laws.

Brahma's face remained expressionless as he raised his right hand. Streams of golden light descended and merged into Hiranyakashipu's body.

"As you wish."

The words echoed through the air, their sound vibrating with the Sanskrit chant of "tathāstu." In these echoes, Hiranyakashipu could feel profound changes within himself. The immense power of the boon raged through his body.

What is invincibility? Hiranyakashipu now understood—he was invincible!

"It's time to return."

Hiranyakashipu walked barefoot, his strides long and steady, making his way out of the now-calm magma.

Suddenly, three familiar figures appeared before him. The leader, holding a snake staff, was a tall figure with snow-white hair and a cold expression—none other than Rishi Shukracharya.
To the left stood a young man with a handsome face, the son of Hiranyaksha. On the right was another young man, ordinary in appearance, save for the black cloth tightly bound across his eyes—Hiranyakashipu's eldest son, Andhaka.

Seeing them, Hiranyakashipu eagerly stepped forward toward his Asura mentor, Shukracharya.

"Teacher!"

He gave Andhaka and Saṃhrāda a quick glance, signaling them, before clasping his hands together in a respectful greeting to the Rishi. Rishi Shukracharya nodded slightly.

Hiranyakashipu, still beaming with happiness, looked around curiously. "Where is my elder brother?" he asked, a puzzled expression on his face.

Rishi Shukracharya's expression stiffened. He turned his head away with a cold snort, his face betraying a hint of discomfort.

Saṃhrāda also looked saddened.

"Father is dead!" Andhaka suddenly spoke, his voice heavy with grief.

Boom!

Hiranyakashipu's body shook, as though struck by lightning. His entire being trembled in disbelief. His eyes widened in shock before filling with tears of sorrow and rage. Murderous intent radiated from him.

"Who did this?!"

Andhaka lowered his head, speaking mournfully. "It was Vishnu, the Preserver of the world, and the King of Svarga who killed my father."

Hiranyakashipu's fists clenched slowly as he absorbed the words. "I will avenge my brother!" he declared coldly, his voice dripping with fury. With that, he turned to leave.

"Wait!" Rishi Shukracharya suddenly stepped forward, raising a hand to stop him.

"The patalaloka is in chaos. Various Asuras and Danavas are fighting for the throne. Before you can take revenge, you must first defeat them and gain the power of the Asura armies. Only then can you become the King of the Asuras."

"In doing so, we will be in a stronger position to confront the King of Svarga and the Preserver of the world," Shukracharya continued.

Hiranyakashipu met the Rishi's gaze, took a deep breath, and quelled the grief and anger that swirled within him.

"I understand," he said hoarsely.

His eyes darkened, and he strode toward the Asura Temple with a powerful, unyielding presence.

"Vishnu, you will pay for this! I will see who dares to stand in my way!"

...

In Svarga, the city sprawled beautifully under the clear skies. Indra was on his way to visit the royal garden.

"Let's plant the Kalpavriksha here," he said, gazing around with a satisfied smile.

---

Chapter Text

"Let's plant Kalpavriksha here!" declared Indra as he strode through the gardens of Amravati City. Heading west, he arrived at the lush forest garden, where the vibrant green grass swayed gently in the breeze.

Outside Amravati City, flowers bloomed in all directions, filling the air with their fragrance.

To the east of the city lay the stables, a grand space where sacred vehicles were stored. Chariots with intricate, ornate frames and iron-clad war chariots stood side by side, gleaming under the celestial light.

Nearby was the Vajra Shilpa, a secure armory where Indra kept his divine weapons: the Indra's Bow, Indradhanush. The divine spear of Indra, Shakti, and the conch Panchajanya, are all displayed as symbols of his power.

To the west of Amravati was Nandana Vana, a tranquil forest garden abundant with Kalpavrikshas, the legendary wish-fulfilling trees. Indra decided to plant this new Kalpavriksha in the northeast corner of the Nandana Vana.

"Kalpavriksha!" Indra mused aloud. Vishnu has said this tree grants wishes that align with Dharma. I wonder if it's truly so."

Standing nearby, Surya tilted his head and gazed at the radiant tree. Excitement sparkled in his eyes as he remarked, "Such a treasure! Look at how it glows with divine light."

"Hahaha, of course, it's true!" Agni laughed heartily. Pointing to a group of Gandharvas busily transplanting the tree, he added, "See? Even as they work, the Kalpavriksha produce food and wine of unparalleled quality. This is its power."

Surya chuckled, shaking his head. "That's a minor wish! A tree this magnificent can fulfill far greater desires!"

Vayu nodded, his expression thoughtful. "We've defeated the Asuras, secured Amrita in Svarga, and now, with the Kalpavriksha our prosperity is overflowing. Truly, the Svarga is truly favored."

"It's time to celebrate!" Vayu exclaimed. "Let's have a party!"

Even Varuna, the usually stoic God of the Oceans, allowed himself a rare smile, joining in the joyous atmosphere.

Indra felt a profound sense of satisfaction. The Svarga was finally at peace, the Bhuoloka was stable, and no bad news had come from Patalaloka. Today was indeed a perfect day.

"Narayana, Narayana~"

The melodious chant of Vishnu echoed across the garden as a lean figure emerged from the shadows, holding a veena. It was none other than the cheerful Narada Muni, his presence instantly catching the attention of the Devas.

"Narada Muni!" they exclaimed in unison, their spirits lifted even higher at his arrival.

The Devas immediately recognized the revered Narada Muni and greeted him respectfully, their hands clasped together.

Narada Muni returned the gesture with a warm smile, bowing slightly before turning his curious gaze toward the Kalpavriksha. "I heard you retrieved the Kalpavriksha from Kshira Sagara, so I came to see it for myself," he said, blinking inquisitively.

The Devas beamed with pride at his interest. "Munivar, behold! This is our wish-fulfilling tree," said Surya, stepping aside to reveal the radiant Kalpavriksha. "Lord Vishnu himself reclaimed it from Hiranyaksha."

"Munivar, take your time. You're welcome to visit anytime!" Agni added enthusiastically.

The Devas exchanged smiles, their hearts swelling with pride. Look at this! Even the esteemed Munivar had come to admire their celestial treasure.

However, Narada Muni suddenly shook his head, his smile fading into a wistful sigh. "What a treasure... what a pity," he murmured, his voice heavy with melancholy.

Indra, puzzled, stepped forward. "Munivar, why do you sigh? What troubles you?" he asked, his curiosity mirrored in the glances of the other Devas.

Narada sighed again and explained, "I was recently in Brahma Loka and saw Brahmadev descending to the Patalaloka to bestow boons. The recipient of these blessings is none other than Hiranyaksha's twin brother, Hiranyakashipu."

At this revelation, the Devas exchanged wary glances.

"Hiranyakashipu is immensely talented and powerful. He was trained by Asura Guru Shukracharya along with his brother from childhood. If he receives Brahma's blessings, he will undoubtedly seek revenge for his brother. When that time comes..." Narada trailed off, letting out a long, sorrowful sigh.

The Devas were momentarily stunned before anger overtook them.

"Does Hiranyakashipu think we Devas are weaklings?" Surya fumed, golden light emanating from his armor in an intense, radiant glow. "Does he believe Svarga can be so easily defied? Even Hiranyaksha couldn't overcome us, and now his brother dares to try?"

"If they challenge us, they will know our strength!" Agni declared, flames flickering fiercely in his eyes. "Strike them hard—strike them until they feel pain until they regret their defiance!"

Devas united in their indignation, and prepared themselves for whatever lay ahead, their resolve burning as brightly as the divine lights and flames surrounding them.

"Let the Asuras of the patala witness the might of the Devas!" Vayu declared, his fists clenched tightly, his voice cold and resolute.

As the fervent voices of the Devas echoed around him, Indra stood in thought. His heart grew heavy, his eyelids twitching as he mulled over the name Narada had mentioned.

Hiranyakashipu?! The name stirred something deep within him—a foreboding familiarity.

Before Indra could delve deeper into his thoughts, Agni stepped forward. With a fiery resolve, he pounded his chest with his fist and addressed Indra loudly.

"King of Svarga!" Agni's voice boomed. "Grant me an army of one thousand soldiers! I, Agni, pledge to lead them, march to the realm of the Asuras, and crush Hiranyakashipu!"

Agni's fiery words roused the others.

"I will be the vanguard!" Vayu stepped forward with unwavering determination. "I will drive the divine chariot and light the path for the Devas!"

Surya joined in, his radiant presence commanding attention. "I shall accompany you! My sun chariot will illuminate the darkest corners of the pataloka and ensure victory for Svarga!"

"I'll go as well, to protect our rear and ensure no Deva is left behind," Varuna added solemnly.

As the Devas rallied with fervent declarations, Indra's thoughts turned inward. He finally recalled the peculiar blessing Hiranyakashipu had received.

Not to die in the sky, not on the earth, not inside a house, not outside a house...

Indra frowned. This was no ordinary adversary. This guy... he's going to be a challenge.

Just as Indra was about to caution his allies against acting impulsively, a Gandharva arrived, rushing toward them with urgency.

"Rajan! There is bad news." the Gandharva exclaimed breathlessly. "An army of Asuras from Patalaloka has emerged at the edge of the human world!"

Hearing this, Indra felt a sinking sensation in his chest. There was no doubt now—a battle was imminent.

"In that case," Indra said, his voice firm, "if they wish to fight, then let us fight!"

As the Devas prepared for war, Narada Muni smiled knowingly. "Narayana, Narayana~" he chimed. "It seems my information was spot on. Svarga is now embroiled in war, so I shall take my leave."

With a respectful gesture, Narada clasped his hands together and turned to depart, leaving the Devas to ready themselves for the battle ahead.

The next moment, a powerful hand tightly gripped Narada Muni's wrist.

"Is the Munivar planning to leave so soon?" Indra asked with a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.

"Hmm?" Narada Muni tilted his head slightly, a flicker of unease crossing his features.

"Munivar, I must thank you for your timely information," Indra began, his tone smooth. "Your warning has allowed us to prepare for the movements of the Asuras in advance. But now, the Svarga's Army requires a wise guide."

Indra's grip on Narada's wrist tightened ever so slightly. "Rishi Brihaspati should remain within Svarga. Munivar, why not aid the Svargas by accompanying Surya and the others in battle?"

Narada Muni tugged at his wrist, but to his growing dismay, Indra's grasp was unyielding. His ever-present smile faltered slightly.

"This..." Narada hesitated. "I'm afraid my wisdom is inadequate for such a task!"

Indra chuckled, his tone filled with faux admiration. "Munivar, you were born from the Lord Brahma himself and are a devout follower of Lord Vishnu. Your wisdom is unparalleled among the Munis."

With a pointed smile, Indra added, "I trust you'll manage splendidly. After all, Lord Vishnu will surely watch over you." He stressed the name "Vishnu" with deliberate emphasis.

Narada's mind raced. Indra's intentions were clear—he was being dragged into a situation he had no desire to be part of.

This is bad. I've been too careless!

"But—" Narada began, only to be cut off.

"No buts!" Indra interrupted with a feigned air of cheerfulness. "The Lord will watch over you. You are his most loved devotee believe in him."

Narada felt the weight of the situation settle over him like a net tightening around an unsuspecting prey.

"Munivar, surely you won't abandon the Devas in their time of need?" Indra continued, his tone laced with subtle menace. "We Devas fight tirelessly for the balance of the world, often without recognition. If we are met with indifference, it pains us greatly."

Indra leaned in slightly, his eyes glinting with mock sincerity. "And when I feel pain, I tend to get... angry. In anger, I might lose my composure and act irrationally. Perhaps, even curse someone. Someone like Garuda, for instance."

At the mention of Garuda, Indra's expression softened into a cunning smile, and he blinked innocently at Narada.

"Munivar," he said casually, "are you familiar with the story of Garuda?"

Narada gulped his thoughts a swirl of dread and regret. I walked into this trap myself!

Chapter Text

Garuda, the Mount of Lord Vishnu!

Not long ago, Garuda went to Svarga in search of Indra. However, in the process, he disturbed the King's penance and was cursed by him, never to see Lord Vishnu again. Narada Muni was well aware of this curse. He broke into a cold sweat.

Indra smiled, his tone smooth yet laced with meaning. "It's never good to curse others," he said, his eyes glinting with subtle amusement.

Narada Muni, ever the skeptic, replied with a hint of displeasure, "I don't like it."

Indra's smile widened, his voice shifting into a more reflective tone. "But blessings…" he said thoughtfully, "blessings are far more versatile. They can be far more powerful—and far more dangerous—than curses."

Narada Muni, considering this, responded with a quiet suggestion, "It would be nice to ask you to forget someone... intentionally."

At this, Indra leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a whisper meant only for Narada Muni's ears. "Narada Muni," he murmured, a trace of warning in his words, "you wouldn't want the lose the protection of Lord Vishnu, would you?"

The expression on Narada Muni's face changed immediately. His smile froze—halfway between a grin and a grimace as if he were smiling but not quite, or crying but not fully.

Trouble!

"Well..." Narada Muni hesitated. "It is our unshirkable dharmic duty as Rishi Muni to help the Devas resist the Asuras, maintain world peace, and spread the righteousness of the universe."

"Of course, I'll join in!" he said, forcing a smile.

Indra nodded, satisfied. "Good!"

"Agni!" Indra called. "You will lead a legion of 100,000 soldiers, with the assistance of Narada Muni, to the human world to resist the Asura invasion and suppress the Hiranyakashipu to stay in Patalaloka for now."

"Yes, my King!" Agni responded with enthusiasm.

Indra then turned to Vayu, his face beaming with approval. "Vayu, you are the vanguard!"

"Yes, my King!" Vayu replied immediately.

"Surya, Varuna," Indra continued, "take your positions in front of the legions!"

"Yes, my King!" came the chorus of responses.

Indra looked upon his arrangements with great satisfaction.

"I'm waiting for your good news from Svarga. I believe you will be victorious and defeat the Hiranyakashipu!" Indra declared, waving his hand.

"Good!" Surya replied, his voice filled with confidence. "As soon as the Heavenly Legions arrive, the enemy will be defeated!"

The other three Devas also shared their confidence. With their army of 100,000 soldiers, empowered by the Amrita and the gift of immortality, they were sure that even the Asuras would pose little threat.

Soon, the four Devas, along with Narada Muni, whose smile was strained, set out. They ordered the 100,000 Gandharvas to begin their march from Svarga to the human world.

As they left, Indra's expression shifted. His eyes narrowed slightly, and he turned quickly, heading towards the small woods in the forest garden.

"Everyone who's coming, except for the Legions, please pack your things. Anyone outside Amravati City should return immediately!" Indra commanded in the Temple of the King of Svarga.

The Gandharvas and Devis were puzzled but complied, gathering the idle Gandharvas and Devis to return to Amravati City.

"Indra, what is happening?" At that moment, Brihaspati rushed into the Temple of the King of Svarga. He looked around at the busy Devis and, confused, turned his gaze to Indra.

"Teacher," Indra said, raising his hand to his mouth as he cleared his throat, his tone grave. "The power of Hiranyakashipu is no ordinary force. He wields boons granted by Brahma himself. With such protection, I fear we cannot defeat him in battle without significant preparation and knowing what his boon is."

Brihaspati raised an eyebrow. "Why? Vayu is brave and skilled in battle. Varuna is calm and composed. Agni is fierce, and Surya is powerful. They've all drunk the Amrita and grown stronger, not to mention Narada Muni."

Rishi Brihaspati, who had trained all four Devas—Vayu, Varuna, Agni, and Surya—was puzzled.

Indra fell silent for a moment, pondering the words of Brihaspati. What he said made sense, but…

They were like the four heavenly kings of Svarga—mighty in their own right, but strangely ineffective, always falling short in battle, defeated early in games, just before facing the final boss.

Every time the Asuras completed their penance and received blessings, the four Devas were always the stepping stones.

Of course, it wasn't just the four of them. Much like the Four Heavenly Kings, who were meant to stand as equals, there was always one more, the "NPC" king, the one who truly mattered in the grand scheme. And that king was none other than King Indra himself.

Indra was the final test, the real challenge, the true gatekeeper of Svarga.

"Better to plan and leave an escape route in case of defeat!" Indra said with a smile.

"Oh?" Brihaspati, the Immortal Teacher, blinked in curiosity. "Then where are you planning to go?"

Indra stretched out his right hand, placing his thumb against his palm and revealing four fingers. "I've thought this through carefully and prepared four routes: south, north, east, and west."

"Going south in Bhu Loka, we could head to Yama Loka, but the location of Yama City is too obvious, which could be problematic."

Indra paused, his expression thoughtful as he weighed the situation. "We could head to Vaikuntha, searching for Lord Vishnu," he began, his voice laced with caution. "Well, if we were to go east, we could try the Kshira Sagara to find Lord Vishnu. But that would involve traveling through the human world's space, which is dangerous and inefficient. And that's something I cannot allow. So, I've decided against it."

He sighed heavily, his thoughts lingering on the weight of the decision. "As for Kailash... it is a place of deep tranquility and asceticism. Disturbing its peace would be an affront. We cannot risk angering Lord Shiva, not when we are already at war at Asuras."

Brihaspati paused for a moment, confused.

"Wait a minute, did you say Amravati City has to be moved?" Brihaspati asked, his brow furrowed.

"Of course! How could we let such a large place go to waste?" Indra replied matter-of-factly.

"It's best to head upwards to the Brahma Realm. It's vast and spacious, and no one can enter and exit freely." Indra nodded and stroked his chin, speaking with certainty.

At this point, Brihaspati was thoroughly confused, his mind spinning with questions.

The Milk Sea and Brahma Realm are not even in the east-west direction—how can they be referred to as east or west?

Brihaspati quickly shook his head, dismissing these thoughts.

Cough! Cough!

"I think we shouldn't rush. The odds of winning are still very high! Let's wait and see how things unfold with the Devas."

As he spoke, Brihaspati waved his hand, and a smooth, glowing mirror materialized before him and Indra. The mirror shimmered as it appeared, revealing a new view.

Kailash.

Shiva Mahadeva sat upon a large rock, one foot resting on the ground and the other on his lap. He nodded slightly, closed his eyes with a serene smile, and entered meditation.

The sacred cow Nandi stood nearby, clasping his hands in reverence as he gazed at his Lord with deep respect and admiration.

"The Lord is smiling—something good must have happened," Nandi thought to himself. His long ears twitched with joy, and a small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, reflecting his happiness.

Above the Sea of Milk.

Vaikuntha.

Vishnu exhaled a long sigh of relief. His serene smile remained, but there was a newfound cheerfulness about him. He turned his head slightly and cast a loving glance at his wife, Devi Lakshmi.

Brahmaloka.

Brahma observed the movements of the three realms. After hearing Indra's plan, his expression grew serious, and he became lost in thought.

No way... he wondered. If the Devas really lose to Hiranyakashipu, he won't actually move the entire Svarga here, will he?

It's all because of that blasted blessing!

"Dev why do you look so troubled?" Devi Sarasvati asked, her voice filled with curiosity. As the music from the veena in her hands came to an abrupt halt, the divine melody faded away, and she turned her gaze toward Brahma.

Brahma's beard twitched, and his eyes darted to one side.

"Devi..." Brahma began softly, clearing his throat, "Would you mind having a few more people in our Brahmaloka?"

"A few more people?" Devadess Sarasvati blinked in confusion.

"Not many, just a few hundred thousand," Brahma explained patiently.

Sarasvati's brow furrowed as she tilted her head, her mind filled with a string of question marks.

Chapter Text

On the other side, in the human world, near the waters of South Jambudvipa, Agni rode a golden-horned billy Sheep, leading countless armies in formations across the skies. The mighty Legions of Svarga, clad in brilliant silver armor and wielding spears, bows, and arrows filled the skies. The dazzling armor shimmered so brightly that it blotted out the sun, casting a silver hue across the earth.

"Aruna, let us become the dawn and light the way forward!"

Surya, dressed in resplendent golden armor, stood atop his sun chariot, waving his mighty hand forward.

The seven divine horses neighed loudly as their hooves pounded the ground in unison. The reins, turbulent and wild, were gripped tightly by the legless young god, Aruna, who drove the chariot with unwavering precision.

Aruna, the God of Dawn, was the elder brother of Garuda and the driver of the sun chariot under Surya's command.

"No force can stand against us, for we are the dawn, and the day is ours to claim!"

"Dawn!!!"

Aruna, with a sudden roar, seized the reins and urged the divine chariot forward. In an instant, they vanished into the human world. The seven horses galloped fiercely, and the chariot radiated the light of dawn, piercing the void and dispelling the cold, silent space around it. The chariot of the sun lit up the world, breaking through the darkness and guiding the Legions behind.

"Soldiers!"

Vayu, holding a sharp divine spear and a divine bow, led the Gazelle, which pulled the divine chariot, moving as swiftly as the wind, right behind the sun chariot.

The hundred thousand strong soldiers followed closely behind, marching under the light of dawn.

Boom! Boom!

The space at the edge of the human world and the Patala loka trembled violently. Shaking quakes rippled through the air, distorting the fabric of the world.

The sun chariot descended like a blazing star, cutting through the layers of void before appearing in the deep, dark realm. Surya narrowed his eyes.

On the cracked, dry red, and black land ahead, a vast Asura army had gathered. The Asura Legions stood in tight formation, weapons in hand, awaiting the arrival of the gods, as if they had long prepared for this moment.

A towering figure, seemingly an Asura, stood at the front of the Asura armies. His imposing presence felt like a mountain of mandalas, exuding an aura of boundless power.

But what was most terrifying... This figure's face was identical to Hiranyaksha's!

"Hiranyaksha…..!"

Surya's face twisted with horror, but then he quickly shook his head. "No, Hiranyaksha was slain by Lord Vishnu avatar, Varaha. You are... Hiranyakashipu!" Surya's voice rang out in disbelief.

His sun chariot soared to great heights, and the golden sun, radiating boundless brilliance, instantly illuminated the entire land.

The Vayu's gazelle-drawn chariot shot forward. Fueled by an intense fighting spirit, he took the lead as the vanguard of the Legions. Drawing the God of Wind's bow, he released an arrow of swirling wind, transforming it into a force of nature.

"Soldiers, heed my command!" Vayu roared as he released the wind arrow.

The arrow twisted and multiplied in mid-air, splitting from one into two, two into four, four into eight…

In an instant, thousands of arrows manifested, a veritable curtain of arrows falling across the land, heading straight for the Asura Legions.

Vayu held the divine bow, his eyes flashing with satisfaction as he watched the onslaught unfold.

Still powerful, he thought to himself. The Asura Legions hesitated, their fear palpable as they watched the arrows fill the sky. But Hiranyakashipu stood firm, unmoving, his presence a daunting calm in the chaos.

General Nishumbha frowned, stepping forward to take action, but she was halted by a cane thrust before her chest.

"Don't rush!"

Asura Teacher Shukracharya's voice was steady and composed. He retracted his arm, and his gaze shifted to the imposing figure of Hiranyakashipu in front of him.

Hiranyakashipu slowly raised his head, his eyes meeting the approaching force of the wind god, Vayu, and the fire god, Agni, whose chariot was now charging forward with a hundred thousand celestial Legions behind it.

The corner of Hiranyakashipu's mouth curled into a slight, cold smile. In an instant, he turned his right hand, spreading his fingers wide.

Light flickered in the palm of his hand, and a massive mace materialized. With a swift motion, he swung the hammer down into the air, its power emanating like a storm.

The mace began to change, multiplying at a terrifying speed. It grew exponentially, and in the blink of an eye, hundreds of massive maces were created, each one spinning as it collided with the thousands of arrows.

Boom! Boom! Boom...

The arrows of the God of Wind, which had once filled the sky, were obliterated in an instant, exploding into nothingness with a deafening sound.

More massive maces rained down from the sky, dark and ominous, crashing down upon the devas and their Legions.

Boom!

Vayu watched in horror as the giant mace grew larger and larger, filling his vision before appearing directly in front of him. With a thunderous impact, it slammed into his head, sending him flying from his sacred chariot, which flipped and crashed to the ground.

In the wake of the hammer's destructive force, many of the Gandharva army were struck down as well. The gods fell to the earth in droves, like dumplings tossed into boiling water.

"Ahhh!"

"It hurts!"

Screams echoed one after another.

Surya opened his mouth in shock, staring at the chaos unfolding before him.

Something is wrong with this situation! Shouldn't the Devas be marching triumphantly, pushing their way into the Patalaloka and defeating the Asura King?

What is happening here?!

A wave of horror washed over Surya as he realized the true power of Hiranyakashipu. He was invincible.

In a panic, Surya called out, "Aruna, we need to leave, now!"

Aruna's expression tightened. Without hesitation, he pulled the reins, turned the chariot, and urged the horses to gallop.

The flying maces rained down relentlessly. Fortunately, Aruna's driving skills were unmatched. He weaved expertly through the chaos, maneuvering the chariot up, down, left, and right, narrowly dodging each hammer.

"Surya!"

At that moment, Agni appeared, riding his golden-horned Sheep.

"Be careful, Agni—!"

Before Surya could finish his warning, a massive mace struck Agni directly. With a thunderous crash, Agni was sent plummeting to the ground like a meteor, creating a giant crater upon impact.

"!!!"

"Agni!"

Surya gasped in horror, clutching the frame of the chariot. His heart raced as he caught sight of countless war hammers barreling toward them. The sacred chariot bucked violently, and Surya's panic intensified.

The power of this Hiranyakashipu rivals that of the golden-eyed warrior, and may even be greater.

Vayu had fallen without resistance. The same fate had befallen Vulcan.

"Let's go! We must retreat immediately!"

"Quickly, head to Vaikuntha and seek help from the preserver of the world!" Surya shouted, his large hand outstretched in urgency.

All of this was being watched by Rishi Brihaspati and Indra. As the mirror rippled and turned off.

Rishi Brihaspati stood frozen, his mouth agape as he watched the scenes unfolding before him. The 100,000-strong legion in Svarga—gone in an instant?!

"Fortunately, I was prepared," Indra muttered, clicking his tongue in annoyance. He sighed deeply and began to turn away.

All the Devas had consumed the Amrita of immortality, so casualties were no longer a concern.

Rishi Brihaspati hurried forward, patting Indra's arm in a panic. "King, you're going to Brahma Loka. What about the others?"

Indra glanced at the Rishi with a puzzled expression.

"Am I such a selfish person?" Indra replied. "As a member of my Svarga Loka, I'll ensure every resident is cared for. You needn't worry. I'll head to the Suryaloka now and escort Surya's subjects to Brahma Loka first."

"As for rescuing the Devas in the hands of Asuras, we need to plan carefully. Don't worry, teacher."

"But is it too late?" Rishi Brihaspati asked, his voice tinged with concern.

"Don't worry," Indra said with a reassuring smile. "The Devas, Gandharvas, and the entire legions are immortal. Hiranyakashipu is no easy foe but even he won't kill them."

Indra patted Rishi Brihaspati's shoulder comfortingly. "By the way, mentor, your wife Tara is still in the human world. Would you like to join us?"

Upon hearing this, Rishi Brihaspati breathed a sigh of relief.

"There's no need to worry. Last night, Soma came to me and told me that Tara was not safe in the human world, so I had him transform into moonlight to bring her here."

"They should be back in Svarga soon."

"Soma is quite thoughtful!" Rishi Brihaspati smiled brightly. Indra stared at him, utterly confused.

Chapter Text

Indra frowned, his brows knitting together as realization dawned. No wonder Soma was absent!

"Let me handle things like this from now on. Soma has proven unreliable," Indra muttered, his tone sharp with disapproval.

He did have a good relationship with Soma—one might even call it camaraderie—but that only made his frustrations more poignant. Soma, the god of the moon and Soma ras, was notoriously indulgent, far more so than even Indra in his younger, wilder days. If Indra had once been careful to avoid "stirring the waters too close to home," as the saying went, Soma made no such distinctions.

More troublingly, Soma's affinity for intoxicants wasn't just his divine domain; it was his greatest temptation. Indra couldn't help but worry. Would Soma's indulgences lead to harm, intentionally or not?

Turning to his teacher, the wise Rishi Brihaspati, Indra spoke with a mixture of concern and authority. "Teacher, please watch Soma more closely in the days to come. Teach him the essence of Dharma."

Brihaspati tilted his head, his expression bemused. "What exactly do you mean by that, Indra?"

Indra sighed and shook his head. "Never mind if you don't understand, Teacher. When the time comes, I'll spar with Soma myself and knock some sense into him." His voice carried an edge of humor, though it was clear he meant every word.

Having said his piece, Indra wasted no time. He turned on his heel, his form shimmering with divine energy, and launched himself into the skies toward Suryaloka.

The journey was swift, the wind bending to his will as he raced toward his destination. Before long, Indra arrived at the main temple, a structure so radiant it seemed to embody the very essence of the sun itself.

Standing before the dazzling edifice, Indra's divine form began to expand. His presence magnified tenfold, his radiant eyes gleaming like miniature suns. Thunder crackled in the skies above, wrapping his body in bolts of lightning as he assumed his greatest form—a god of storms and thunder.

The Suryaloka responded to his arrival, its light intensifying, beams of celestial energy spilling forth to illuminate the heavens. The divine architecture trembled under the weight of Indra's power, as though bowing to the King of Svarga.

Indra smirked, though his expression remained focused. This was his realm, his domain. No power within Svarga could defy him.

Boom!

The palace shuddered violently, the ground quaking as Indra's aura rippled outward, shaking the celestial realm itself.

"This ends here," Indra murmured to himself, his gaze hard and determined.

The palace had no choice but to yield to its King.

At that moment, a devi adorned in a flowing red dress stepped gracefully out of the Surya's adobe.

Her beauty was mesmerizing, with a delicate cinnabar mark gracing her forehead, a symbol of her divine heritage. Her golden gown draped around her figure, accentuating her curves and radiating an aura of vitality and fertility. She exuded a presence as vibrant and life-giving as a mare in her prime—an embodiment of abundance and nurturing energy.

This was none other than Sanjna, goddess of clouds and dusk.

The wife of Surya, daughter of the celestial craftsman Vishvakarma, and mother to Yama and Yamuna, the Ashwini twins. Sanjna's identity was etched into the skies. Her radiance, soft yet commanding, was unmistakable.

"Indradev, what are you doing here?" Sanjna asked, her voice trembling. She instinctively stepped back, crossing her arms protectively over her chest. Fear flickered in her wide eyes as she continued, "Where is Surya?"

"There's no time to explain!" Indra's voice was sharp, his tone urgent. "The legions of Asuras are preparing to attack Svarga. I must send you to Brahmaloka for safety."

Without waiting for her response, Indra clasped his hands together in a gesture of divine command. The entire palace rumbled violently as its very foundations detached from Svarga, lifting into the skies.

Boom!

Sanjna staggered, her footing unsteady as the temple trembled and surged upward. Confusion and fear played across her face as she swayed, clutching a nearby golden pillar for support.

"Hold on! I'm speeding up!" Indra shouted, his eyes fixed resolutely ahead.

The palace accelerated, propelled by Indra's divine power. Sanjna gasped, her cheeks flushed with terror as she slid to the ground, leaning against the pillar to steady herself.

Above the skies of Svarga, the celestial expanse unfolded—a vast, boundless realm shimmering with ethereal light.

"Pranam Devi Sarasvati!" Indra called out, his voice echoing with reverence.

His gaze fell upon the radiant form of Sarasvati, goddess of wisdom and knowledge. She rode a graceful swan, her veena resting delicately in her hands. Her luminous presence illuminated their path forward.

In an instant, the celestial space transformed.

The skies turned a serene, endless blue, a sea of clouds rising in majestic waves. The air was perfumed with the delicate fragrance of blooming lotus flowers, and divine tranquility enveloped the realm.

At the heart of this sacred realm, Brahmaloka, sat two radiant figures cross-legged, their forms exuding an aura of timeless wisdom and boundless power.

"We've arrived," Indra announced solemnly, his voice carrying the weight of the moment.

The palace came to rest, its journey complete. They were now in Brahmaloka, the abode of the Creator.

Indra curled his lips into a faint smile as he descended gracefully on a cloud, carefully placing the Sun Temple down with practiced ease.

"Pranam Brahmadev! Pranam Devi!" Indra greeted, bowing with his hands pressed together in reverence to Brahma and the goddess Sarasvati, who sat resplendent in the celestial radiance of Brahmaloka.

"The Svarga is under siege," he explained, his tone steady yet tinged with urgency. "The Asura King, Hiranyakashipu, armed with a new boon, has launched an assault on the Devas. I've had no choice but to relocate the Suryaloka here for safety. I'm afraid it will have to remain in Brahmaloka for some time."

Indra's expression softened slightly as he offered a faint, apologetic smile, his words carrying the weight of duty.

Sarasvati, the goddess of wisdom and learning, shifted her gaze to the silent Brahma beside her. Her knowing eyes lingered on her husband, whose guilt was all too apparent. She understood the situation immediately.

Hiranyakashipu's newfound power was clearly the result of a boon granted by Brahma himself. Yet Sarasvati, in her wisdom, had also ensured that the Devas retained the blessing allowing them entry into Brahmaloka—a safeguard that was proving indispensable now.

"It is permitted," Sarasvati said calmly, her voice resonating with divine authority.

At that moment, Sanjna regained her composure. Glancing around the divine realm, her gaze fell upon Lord Brahma and Sarasvati. It was only then that she realized her earlier misunderstanding of Indra's intentions. Embarrassed, she quickly bowed low in apology to the celestial couple.

Before she could turn and offer her apologies to Indra, however, the King of Svarga was already gone.

Whoosh!

A flash of thunder illuminated the skies as Indra sped back to Svarga, his movements swift and purposeful. His destination was clear: Chandraloka, the adobe of the Moon.

At the Temple of the Moon

As Indra arrived, the temple was bathed in a soft, silver glow, reflecting the serene radiance of the lunar deity it housed. Almost immediately, twenty-seven ethereal figures emerged, their graceful forms moving with urgency.

Rohini, the chief consort, led the group, her beauty radiant even amid chaos. She was accompanied by the other Nakshatra goddesses, each representing a star constellation and each more exquisite beauty than the last. Together, they bowed deeply before the King of Svarga.

"Pranam, Raja Indra!" they chorused, their voices harmonious and tinged with concern.

Indra wasted no time. "The Asuras are advancing. Svarga is in grave danger. I must transport you to Brahmaloka for your safety," he declared.

Rohini stepped forward, her face a mix of worry and longing. "King of Svarga," she began, her voice trembling slightly, "my husband has not returned in a long time. Where is Soma? Why is he not here with us?"

Her question hung in the air, the other goddesses looking to Indra for an answer. But the King of Svarga's face remained impassive, his thoughts hidden as he prepared for the task at hand.

Indra froze for a moment, his mind racing. How does she know Soma isn't with Vayu and Agni?! Blinking rapidly, he suddenly had a spark of inspiration.

"Eh~" Indra's voice shifted to a more confident tone, his expression brightening. "I'm not sure where Soma has gone, but it might indeed be dangerous. However, worry not. I will send you all to Brahmaloka shortly. There, you can ask the Lord Brahma and Devi Sarasvati directly."

He paused, letting the brilliance of his plan unfold. "Lord Brahma is the creator of the Universe who has created everything in the Tri Loka, surely knows Soma's whereabouts and can summon him back. Additionally, you could perform penance before the Brahma and devi Saraswati, seeking their blessing to grant you the ability to see Soma at any time. In that way, you will never have to worry about him again."

Indra clapped his hands together, a satisfied smile on his face. Wonderful! He was indeed truly full of good ideas today!

Rohini's eyes lit up at the suggestion, and the other Nakshatra goddesses exchanged enlightened glances.

"Surely this resolves the greatest challenge in your lives," Indra said with a teasing grin, raising an eyebrow as he spread his hands in mock impatience. "Why has no one thanked me yet?"

The Nakshatra goddesses, with Rohini at the forefront, beamed with radiant smiles. In an instant, they clasped their hands together in sincere gratitude.

"Thank you, O great and wise King of Svarga!" they chorused in perfect harmony, their voices filled with admiration.

Indra wasted no time, acting with the precision and efficiency befitting the King of Svarga.

The Moon Temple was the first to be sent to Brahmaloka. One by one, the grand palaces of Agni; Varuna, and Vayu were also carefully transported to the Satya Loka. Each was safely secured under the watchful eyes of Brahma and Sarasvati.

Soon, Svarga stood eerily empty. The once-bustling realm of the Devas was now devoid of its glorious temples, its grandeur relocated for protection.

All that remained was the magnificent Amravati city, the abode of the King of Svarga.

Back at Amravati

Indra strode purposefully into the palace of the King of Svarga. His gaze fell upon the grand Throne of the King of Svarga, which stood proudly at the center of the temple. Its brilliance seemed to outshine the entire space, glowing with a golden radiance that evoked awe and reverence.

This throne, the symbol of divine authority, was the center of the cosmos—bright, dazzling, and undeniably alluring.

Indra sighed deeply, his expression softening.

"It's all because of this seat," he murmured to himself. "Hiranyakashipu desires it so much. Very well… I'll leave this seat to anyone who asks for it."

His thoughts lingered for a moment, heavy with resolve. He knew the throne's symbolic power, yet his duty to Svarga and its people far outweighed personal pride.

Indra, the King of Svarga, was prepared to make sacrifices.

He shook his head, striding purposefully out of the palace of the Heavenly King. His steps echoed with finality as he walked along the road leading out of Amravati City. With each step, his form began to expand, growing vast and imposing. His divine skin glowed like molten gold, radiating brilliance across the sky. He inhaled deeply, swallowing the air like storm clouds, and exhaled with the force of a gale. Waves of terrifying pressure rippled outward, a silent warning to anyone who dared oppose him.

"This is the last city of Amravati left…" Indra murmured under his breath.

The King of Svarga paused, rubbing his hands together as if preparing for an immense task. Amravati City, the crown jewel of the heavens and the largest of all was left for last.

Just as he was about to lift the grand city, a sudden cry for help broke through the stillness.

"Indra, save me!"

The voice, unmistakable and filled with desperation, jolted Indra's focus. He turned around sharply, his eyes narrowing.

From the distance, the figure of Varuna came into view. Varuna was astride his divine mount, the great Makara—a fearsome creature with the shape of a crocodile, the head of a sheep, and the tail of a fish. The Makara moved with incredible speed, darting like lightning across the skies.

Chasing close behind was an Asura general, his presence exuding malevolence as he pursued relentlessly.

"Who?!" Indra's eyebrows shot up in surprise, his expression incredulous. "It's not Hiranyakashipu, yet you dare to chase all the way into Svarga?! Are all Asuras so bold now?"

His tone grew sharp, crackling with divine authority. "Who gave you the courage!"

Indra planted his feet firmly on the ground, his towering form casting a shadow over the heavens. His neck twisted with a resounding crack, like thunder rolling through the clouds.

Slowly, with the air around him shimmering from his divine power, Indra raised his hand.

In a flash, a magnificent seven-colored bow appeared in his palm, its radiance splitting the sky. The bow, glowing with celestial hues, seemed to pulse with the power of storms and lightning.

"Indra Dhanush!"

The very air trembled at the sight of the King of Svarga's legendary weapon.

Chapter Text

Indra stood sideways, his colossal elemental form stretching as vast as the sky. Blue lightning coiled around him like serpents, crackling with divine energy. His Sahsrakavacha gleamed brilliantly, radiating a light that seemed to illuminate the sky. At this moment, he appeared as a furious giant who shall crush all who opposed him.

His eyes, blazing like twin suns, burned with an intensity that could pierce through any shadow. His presence was as immovable as a mountain, exuding an aura of overwhelming dominance.

In his immense hand, he held the divine bow, its bowstring shimmering like a rainbow across the skies. With a steady motion, Indra drew back the string, the tension crackling with raw energy.

Whoosh!

A thunderbolt of light burst forth, slicing through the air with terrifying speed.

The blue lightning streaked past the edge of Makara, narrowly missing the divine beast. The sheer force of the bolt caused Varuna and Makara to freeze in terror. Both trembled, momentarily stunned by the devastating power that had just been unleashed.

The pursuing Asura general halted in his tracks, his expression shifting from rage to alarm. His grip tightened on the scimitar in his hand—a weapon forged by the legendary Asura craftsman Maya, imbued with waves of divine power. With a defiant roar, he swung the scimitar downward.

The blade gleamed, radiating a galaxy-like cascade of light as its power surged forward in a torrent of destruction.

Boom!

Indra's arrow struck with perfect precision. The thunderbolt tore through the void, meeting the scimitar mid-swing. The weapon shattered into countless shards, each fragment glowing with remnants of divine energy.

The fragments shot backward, embedding themselves in the Asura general's chest with explosive force.

A blinding thunderstorm erupted from the impact. Lightning surged outward like a swarm of furious serpents, writhing and striking with relentless fury. The electric Naga coiled around the Asura's form, biting deep into his flesh.

In an instant, his chest was ripped apart. Flesh and blood erupted violently, scattering in all directions. A gaping, smoldering wound now marred his once-imposing figure.

"Ahhhhhhh!"

The Asura let out an earth-shaking scream as his body twisted in agony. In his desperation, he revealed his true form—a massive, grotesque giant with three heads, ten arms, and a serpentine tail. Yet even in this monstrous shape, a gaping hole remained in his chest, leaking divine ichor.

With a swift motion, the Asura turned and fled, his serpentine tail undulating wildly as he retreated into the distance.

Indra tilted his head slightly, a mix of amusement and disdain flickering across his expression.

"It didn't die in one shot?" he mused aloud, his voice laced with both awe and irritation. "This Asura is quite capable."

Yet his sharp gaze never wavered. Indra raised the divine bow again, drawing another arrow with ease.

Boom!

This time, the thunderbolt struck its mark with absolute finality.

All three heads of the Asura exploded simultaneously, bursting into countless fragments. The sky was filled with a cascade of blazing light as the remnants of his form were obliterated.

The battlefield fell silent, the Asura's monstrous figure reduced to nothing but ashes scattered by the winds.

Varuna quivered slightly, his face shifting from alarm to astonishment. He quickly clamped his legs together, urging his mount, Makara, forward. The divine beast, swift as lightning, charged toward Indra.

"Indra! My good brother, the commander of the Devas, I'm glad you're here!" Varuna called, his voice laced with a hint of fear as his gaze darted around, searching for any sign of danger.

Indra, standing with an air of supreme calmness, observed the space behind Varuna and asked, his voice steady yet tinged with suspicion, "Where is Surya? Didn't he retreat?"

Indra's eyes had witnessed Surya retreating from the battlefield with his gaze, and now, it troubled him to see his absence.

"He should have gone to the Kshira Sagara to find Lord Vishnu," Varuna answered quickly, his expression grim. "Vayu and Agni have both fallen into the hands of the Asura."

As he spoke, Varuna's face darkened, a sudden realization flashing in his eyes. "Many Asuras have already reached Svarga, what should we do?"

Indra frowned deeply. He grasped his divine bow with practiced ease and extended his senses, scanning the entire realm of Svarga.

The divine light of Svarga illuminated everything, its vastness stretching far and wide, reflecting in Indra's focused eyes. The clouds shifted lazily overhead, the essence of all things visible. But something was amiss. Not only were Asuras here, but a surge of "foreign objects"—likely enemies—had begun appearing, converging upon their position.

He exhaled slowly, assessing the dire situation. "You move Amravati City to Brahma Loka, and I will handle the rest."

Indra took a step forward, his eyes narrowed in determination. With his back to Varuna, his presence was all-consuming. His power radiated as he prepared for the battle ahead.

Varuna looked around, bewildered. In the vast expanse of Svarga, only the massive Amravati City remained—every other city and palace had vanished.

"Brahma Loka?!"

The realization struck him like a thunderbolt. Indra had already thought of an escape route.

Varuna's eyes brightened, his anxiety easing into understanding. "I understand now!"

Nodding rapidly, he called to his mount, Makara, and urged it toward Amravati City, moving swiftly to carry out his part of the plan.

Meanwhile, Indra stood still, his eyes gazing into the horizon. With a calm, measured motion, he raised his divine bow and pointed it toward the heavens.

In that instant, he drew the bowstring back, and the full moon-shaped string crackled with blue lightning. The electric energy coiled around it, transforming into dozens of lightning arrows.

Whoosh!

With a thunderous release, the arrows shot into the sky, their streaks of blue light like bolts from the gods themselves.

The Svarga shuddered, as the Asuras, already swarming in, rushed forward with unrelenting fury. Their numbers surged like a tidal wave, and leading the charge were the fearsome Asura generals, Nishumbha and Shumbha.

The battle was about to begin.

Nishumbha had wild black hair, his form was encased in dark armor that seemed to pulse with primal energy. His body was massive and sturdy, exuding a raw, ancient power like a beast unleashed from the depths of time.

Shumbha, on the other hand, had piercing blue eyes that glinted coldly, his lean frame deceptively powerful. In his hand, he gripped a crescent-shaped sword, its sharp edge gleaming ominously in the light.

"Is this Svarga?" Nishumbha muttered, his voice rough as he gazed around in awe.

"It's vast... far more spacious than I imagined," he added, scanning the endless expanse. His eyes widened as he took in the sight of the empty, rolling sea of clouds.

"Why is there nothing but clouds?" Nishumbha's voice was laced with confusion.

"No!" Shumbha suddenly interrupted, his sharp eyes narrowing. "Over there, a city!" His cold tone carried the weight of realization. "They've all run away, but there's still one city left. We'll go there!"

Nishumbha's lips twisted into a grin as he laughed heartily. "The Devas are nothing but cowards. It's good they've fled. This place is ours now!" His voice boomed, filling the space with mocking amusement.

The entire Asura legions joined in, their laughter echoing ominously through the clouds, adding to the growing darkness.

Boom!

Suddenly, the sky above the horizon exploded with a brilliant blue light. A pillar of radiant energy shot into the heavens, casting everything in Svarga into chaos. The serene white clouds instantly darkened, turning into ominous black masses, swallowing the light and plunging the realm into shadow.

Varuna, standing beside Amravati City, turned his gaze upward. His eyes filled with awe as he clasped his hands together, bowing deeply.

"Everything else is up to you Indra!" he chanted reverently.

As the black clouds rolled in, they devoured the light, slowly erasing the Asuras' shadows as they fell into the consuming darkness. The sea of clouds trembled violently, and in the distance, the air crackled with energy.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

Thunder rumbled through Svarga, shaking the very foundations of the realm. Lightning tore through the void, and endless bolts of thunder cascaded from the sky like torrents of rain. The air was thick with the sizzling heat of divine power.

Each bolt of lightning struck down, exploding upon impact, tearing into the Asuras with terrifying force. Thunderous Nagas—serpentine beings made of pure lightning—danced in the air, their bodies flashing like streaks of light, amplifying the chaos. The Asuras screamed in pain, their bodies consumed by the relentless bolts of thunder.

Screams echoed through the clouds, the sounds of Asuras scrambling to escape the storm of destruction.

"Scatter, you fools! Get out of here before we're all dead!"

"No! Don't leave me here! Someone, help me!"

"Please, I throw down my weapon! Have mercy!"

The Asura legions fell into disarray as they were blasted apart by the divine fury raining down from the heavens, their pleas drowned out by the thunder that echoed through the very heart of Svarga.

Accompanied by screams of agony and terror, more than half of the Asura legions were obliterated in an instant. The remaining ones, paralyzed with fear and unable to flee, were left helpless in the wake of the storm.

"Ah!!!"

In an instant of carelessness, Shumba's thigh was struck by a massive bolt of thunder. The flesh blackened and began to smoke, the smell of burnt meat filling the air. The destructive power of the lightning coursed through his body, searing him from the inside out.

Uh-huh!

With quick reflexes, Shumbha swung his scimitar, severing the blackened flesh from his mount. His heart raced as he realized the intensity of the assault.

"It's the King of Svarga!" Shumbha exclaimed, his voice filled with disbelief.

He had not expected Indra, the King of Svarga, to remain in Svarga while the Asuras ransacked it.

"I will block these arrows!" Nishumbha's eyes glowed with renewed vigor. "I have the blessing of invulnerability! Let's kill him together!"

A deep, rumbling roar escaped Nishumbha's throat as he struck his chest with both fists. His body expanded in size, turning into a massive beast that blotted out the sky and sun. Lightning arrows rained down upon him, but they seemed to have no effect, dissipating harmlessly against his indomitable form.

Shumbha, seeing this, quickly darted behind Nishumbha for cover, following closely as they charged forward.

In the distance, Indra stood, eyes narrowing as he observed the charging Nishumbha. He tilted his head slightly, a faint flicker of interest in his eyes.

"Is that so?" Indra's voice was cold and deliberate as his gaze lingered on the approaching beast. Blessing? A dangerous thought crossed his mind.

A flicker of light sparked in Indra's eyes. Without hesitation, he pulled his divine bow once more, releasing a volley of arrows. Rolling black clouds descended again, heavier and darker than before. Thunder and lightning crackled through the air, and arrows of pure divine energy sped toward the massive beast.

The lightning rained down upon Nishumbha's form, but it was as if the arrows were mere droplets in a storm. The power of Nishumbha'sinvulnerabilityy shielded him, and the bolts dissipated without even leaving a mark.

"No Astra and Shastra, Dev, Asur, or men can kill me!" Nishumbha roared triumphantly, his voice booming across the battlefield. "You can't defeat me, Indra!"

His voice echoed through the clouds, filled with maddening confidence as he prepared for the next move in this divine confrontation.

Chapter Text

"No Astra and Shastra, Dev, Asur can kill me!"

Nishumbha's booming voice echoed across the heavens, his colossal figure barreling toward Indra like a living storm. The Asura's every step shook the ground beneath them, confidence radiating with the unyielding arrogance of his supposed invulnerability.

Indra's eyes narrowed. The golden glow of his irises flickered, his expression calm but calculating. Nishumbha's words repeated in his mind like a riddle meant to confound a lesser deity.

This blessing... It's surprisingly simple to unravel.

If no Astra and Shastra couldn't harm him, Indra thought, then the answer was clear: Don't use weapons at all. If the divine and demonic energies offered him immunity, then Svarga, the celestial realm, would serve as his battlefield.

As these thoughts churned, the air before Indra shimmered with the force of Nishumbha's approach. The Asura's body surged forward, a living wave of destruction. His fist, as large as a mountain peak, swung with enough momentum to sunder the earth.

Boom!

Indra moved with divine precision. The golden light of his Sahsrakavacha armor flared as he slung his bow across his back, raising his arms in readiness. His skin, shimmering like molten gold, shone brighter than the midday sun. Muscles coiled like the Naga kings of the Nagaloka, and with a single motion, he unleashed a punch that rippled through the fabric of reality.

The impact was cataclysmic. Nishumbha was hurled backward, his enormous form crashing into the sea of clouds that stretched across Svarga.

For a moment, silence reigned—broken only by Nishumbha's guttural laughter as he pulled himself up.

"You can't kill me!" he snarled, baring jagged teeth. His voice carried a mocking edge as if daring Indra to try again.

With a roar, Nishumbha lunged forward, hands outstretched, aiming to crush Indra in his grip.

But Indra stood unshaken.

From behind the chaos, another figure emerged—Shumbha. Smaller in stature but no less dangerous, he darted from Nishumbha's shadow. His eyes gleamed with cunning as he leaped into the air, both hands gripping a magic blade that shimmered with an eerie light.

"Attack his knees!" Shumbha roared, descending with the force of a falling star.

The blade flashed as it sliced toward Indra's knees, but before it could connect—

The Sahsrakavacha armor ignited. Bluish-green light blazed outward, and with it came the searing, toxic glow of Halahala. The venom's energy crackled like chained lightning, sending waves of agony through Shumbha's body. His attack faltered, and in his moment of weakness, Indra struck.

A golden foot shot forward, impossibly fast. The air itself roared in protest as the kick connected, sending Shumbha spiraling through the sky.

Boom!

The Asura's body arced like a rainbow, crashing into the distance with a force that rattled the heavens.

Meanwhile, Nishumbha's sneer turned into a pained grimace. Even he was not immune to the poisonous aura radiating from Indra's armor. The briefest touch had sent him recoiling, his immense form staggering backward.

Indra's lips curved into a faint, knowing smile.

"My Sahsrakavacha armor bears the venom of Halahala," he said, his voice calm, yet brimming with divine authority. "Its light alone brings pain. Its touch ensures destruction."

The battlefield stilled, and the Asuras were left writhing in agony. Above it all, Indra stood radiant, his golden figure shining like a beacon of unyielding power.

The Asura before Indra let out a harrowing scream, collapsing onto the ground in agony. Its massive frame trembled as it writhed in pain, unable to withstand the radiant force of Indra's presence.

Indra smiled, a glimmer of satisfaction in his golden eyes. "The venom of Halahala. Even its faintest light causes unbearable pain. A single touch ensures certain poisoning."

He cast a glance at the two Asuras struggling nearby. Neither had even laid a hand on his divine armor, yet both were already incapacitated by the mere radiance of the Halahala's light.

"Not as resilient as Hiranyaksha," Indra remarked, his tone almost dismissive. "Their pain tolerance is disappointing."

Without hesitation, Indra bent down, his hand closing around the spindly calf of one fallen Asura. The creature thrashed weakly but was powerless against the god's overwhelming strength.

As Indra's grip tightened, his form began to shift. His figure expanded, towering and colossal until his size dwarfed the Asura entirely.

Now, Indra stood like a mountain against a mere mound, an elephant before a lion, a tiger looming over a helpless wild dog.

With a roar of effort, Indra swung the Asura's body in a wide arc, wielding it as effortlessly as one might swing a cloak. Left and right, he slammed the flailing creature against the storm-darkened clouds. Each impact reverberated through the heavens, a deafening rumble echoing like a divine drumbeat.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

"This Asura," Indra mused, a grin spreading across his face, "makes a fine weapon and shield. The balance, the weight... it's perfect. I'm getting better at this at the moment."

He chuckled, his booming laughter filling the sky as he swung the Asura like a war hammer, crushing everything in his path. Clouds dispersed in chaos, and the battlefield trembled under Indra's relentless might.

...

The Kshira Sagara stretched endlessly beneath the blazing chariot of the sun. Its dark, abyssal waves churned violently, their frothy peaks glinting under the searing rays of the sun. The celestial chariot, drawn by seven radiant horses, galloped across the stormy waters, each hoofbeat leaving shimmering trails of sea mist in its wake. The reflected brilliance of the sun painted a golden path over the enigmatic black waters.

Surya clung to the edge of the chariot, his usually composed demeanor shaken. He cast nervous glances over his shoulder, his fiery gaze laced with unease.

"Faster, Aruna!" Surya urged, his voice tinged with panic.

Aruna tightened his grip on the reins, spurring the celestial steeds to an even greater speed. The chariot surged forward, a streak of light against the Milk Sea's darkness. At last, their eyes fell upon a figure standing ahead—a silhouette both unexpected and familiar.

"Narada Muni!" Surya exclaimed, relief washing over his golden face.

The celestial sage, cradling his veena, turned abruptly at the sound of his name. His expression froze, caught between recognition and hesitation.

"Ah... Lord Surya," Narada said awkwardly, his eyes darting from the chariot to the abyssal sea around him.

"Thank the heavens!" Surya called out, waving his hand to signal Aruna to halt. The chariot slowed to a graceful stop beside the sage. "Narada Muni, I can't believe you're unharmed!"

Narada offered a nervous chuckle, adjusting his grip on the veena. "Narayana Narayana. It's fortunate indeed."

"Quick, get in!" Surya leaned over, extending his hand toward the sage. "We're heading to find Lord Vishnu and plan our next move to rescue Svarga!"

Narada hesitated, but seeing the urgency in Surya's gaze, he allowed himself to be pulled into the chariot. "Narayana Naryan," he murmured reverently as he climbed aboard.

Surya grinned, his relief palpable. "I didn't think you'd escape the Asura legions unscathed! You're truly fast, Narada Muni."

Narada's smile faltered slightly as he settled into the chariot. The memory of his escape lingered, a far cry from the Sun God's heroic assumptions. The truth was far less dignified—when the Asura legions descended, Narada had discreetly slipped away amidst the chaos, avoiding confrontation entirely. It seemed ironic, even laughable, that his retreat had brought him face-to-face with Surya in the middle of the Kshira Sagara when he was deciding where to go.

"Yes, well... I was fortunate," Narada replied, a sheepish grin spreading across his face.

Surya gripped Narada's arm with surprising force, his golden eyes blazing with determination. "Come! We'll find Lord Vishnu, and together, we'll reclaim Svarga!"

Narada winced inwardly at the Sun God's vice-like grip but managed to maintain his genial smile. "Of course. Lord Vishnu will surely have a plan."

As the chariot surged forward once more, Narada cast a fleeting glance back at the Milk Sea, wondering if perhaps his escape from the Asuras had been the easy part after all.

Three figures soared through the celestial skies, carried by the sacred vehicle. Below them, the Milk Sea shimmered endlessly, its dark waves reflecting the divine glow of the heavens. Suddenly, a magnificent golden shrine materialized above the sea, radiating brilliance that seemed to hold countless mysteries and ethereal beauty.

A faint black speck appeared in the distance, growing larger as it approached, its wings flapping with purpose.

"Garuda!"

Aruna was the first to recognize the approaching figure. His voice carried a mix of surprise and joy.

"Brother!"

Garuda also spotted Aruna and called out in astonishment. Despite their differences, the bond between them was unshakable—they were brothers, born from the two eggs laid by Vinata. Aruna, the elder, had emerged prematurely, while Garuda, the younger, hatched fully developed, brimming with power.

"Garuda!"

Surya clasped his hands together, his radiant eyes filled with hope. "Thank goodness you're here! Hiranyakashipu's boon is quite overwhelming. We need the Lord Vishnu's intervention. Please, ask the Lord to help us defeat Hiranyakashipu!" Surya's voice was fervent, his head bowed in a low prayer.

Garuda's powerful wings stilled as he hovered before the group. A solemn expression crossed his face as he shook his head. "The Lord is in Vaikuntha, just beyond here," Garuda said, gesturing toward the resplendent shrine in the distance. "But He has decreed that He will not intervene. Hiranyakashipu has not yet violated the dharma. You must return."

The weight of his words hung heavy in the air.

"Is there truly no way?" Aruna stepped forward, his hand grasping Garuda's arm. His golden eyes pleaded with his brother. "Garuda, are you certain the Lord will not act?"

Garuda looked at his elder brother with a mix of pity and helplessness. He sighed deeply before replying, "The Lord said… the time has not yet come."

Aruna lowered his gaze with a sigh, his shoulders slumping in resignation. Surya, too, seemed disheartened, his earlier hope dimmed.

But Narada Muni, ever curious and restless, leaned forward eagerly. His eyes sparkled with intrigue as he gazed past Garuda toward the divine abode. Standing on tiptoe, he craned his neck, trying to catch a glimpse of Vaikuntha.

"Narayana Narayana!" Narada exclaimed with a wide grin. "Is that the Lord's new adobe, Vaikuntha? Oh, what grandeur! I haven't been inside yet!"

His excitement provided a stark contrast to the somber mood of the others, his curiosity unshaken even in the face of divine restraint.

Narada Muni's expression shifted to one of surprise as he instinctively raised his foot, ready to leap off the Sun Chariot. But before he could act, a massive golden wing unfurled before him, blocking both his view and his path.

"By the way," Garuda said, his voice steady yet firm, "the Lord has a message for you, Narada Muni. He instructs you to remain with Surya Dev and continue aiding the Devas. When the time comes, you will be called to Vaikuntha."

Garuda curled his lips slightly, his tone tinged with a subtle satisfaction as he lowered his wing. He silently thanked the Lord for sparing him from a trip to Svarga. The thought of encountering Indra again was enough to make his feathers bristle. Narada Muni, on the other hand, was a dependable ally—but under no circumstances could he be allowed into Vaikuntha now.

"Wait, what?!" Narada Muni was stunned, blinking in disbelief.

Surya, his face heavy with disappointment, shook his head. "It seems we have no other choice but to return. Lord Vishnu must have His reasons for this decision."

Turning toward Aruna, Surya gestured resolutely. "Let's go back to Svarga. We must inform the King of this news without delay."

Aruna nodded in understanding, bidding a quick farewell to Garuda before commanding the Sun Chariot forward.

As the radiant chariot surged into motion, Garuda watched his elder brother and Narada Muni depart. He noticed the sage's lingering gaze toward Vaikuntha, his longing palpable even as the distance between them grew.

"Huh~ That's perfect!" Garuda exhaled in relief, a bright smile spreading across his face. He flapped his wings vigorously, the golden light emanating from his feathers shining brilliantly. With Narada Muni bound for Svarga to assist the Devas, Garuda could remain in Vaikuntha, ever close to the Lord.

"Cool!" he thought, his heart soaring as high as his flight.

The Sun Chariot raced across the heavens, its seven horses galloping at divine speed. The sacred vehicle blazed with endless brilliance, piercing through layers of space and cutting through the veil of darkness like the first light of dawn. Its destination: Svarga.

Standing tall on the chariot, Surya peered into the distance. His radiant face was lined with worry, his voice tinged with urgency.

"The Legions are crumbling!" he exclaimed. "Svarga cannot withstand this assault. We must act quickly. Hasn't Indra already fled to Brahma Loka?"

His panic was evident as the Sun Chariot soared onward, leaving trails of light across the vast cosmic expanse, heading straight for the embattled Svarga.

---

Chapter Text

Surya's chariot sped through the void, its wheels turning relentlessly as it carried the endless light of the sun. The chariot tore through layers of darkness, racing toward Svarga.

Whoosh!

The shining expanse of Svarga grew closer with every passing moment. Suddenly, the chariot lurched violently. The divine horses neighed in panic, their hooves striking the air with wild abandon. Aruna panicked, grabbed the reins, and pulled them tight, struggling to regain control of the frenzied steeds.

Surya and Narada Muni were thrown about by the sudden jolt. Both grasped the sides of the chariot to steady themselves.

"Who's ahead?" Surya demanded, his voice tinged with alarm. His eyes scanned the void ahead.

A dark presence emerged: a swarm of Asuras, heading straight toward Svarga. At the front of the horde stood Hiranyakashipu, his gaze sharp and menacing.

"Hiranyakashipu!" Surya gasped, his voice shaky. "Aruna, hurry!"

Aruna's hands tightened on the reins, urging the divine horses into action. With a sudden tug, the chariot veered, its golden wheels spinning faster as it surged toward Svarga.

Hiranyakashipu's eyes narrowed as he spotted the sun god's chariot in the distance. His voice rang out across the void. "That is Surya's chariot is ahead! After him!"

With a single command, the mighty Asura legions surged forward, their pursuit relentless.

"Faster Aruna faster!" Surya urged, looking back in terror as the Asuras closed in.

Narada Muni's eyes flickered with thought as he strummed his Veena. "Narayana Narayana. The other Devas are in Hiranyakashipu's grasp, Suryadev. Perhaps you should rescue them first."

Surya shook his head vehemently, his words a blur of urgency. "No! No! The Devas drank the Amrita. Hiranyakashipu can do nothing to them. We must find the King of Svarga and unite our strength to free them!" He turned to Aruna with determination. "Aruna, go straight towards Svarga!"

At Surya's command, Aruna yanked the reins with a sharp snap. The seven divine horses raised their heads, their manes flowing in the wind as they neighed loudly. In an instant, they transformed into blazing white light, accelerating with the speed of a celestial fire.

Narada Muni watched the spectacle, disappointment flickering in his eyes. This one is too cowardly, he thought.

Swish!

The distance between the two parties widened rapidly.

"Huh~" Surya exhaled deeply, his heart still racing. "They can't keep up with my divine horses!" He patted his chest in relief, a long sigh escaping his lips.

Swish!

The Sun God Chariot neared the edge of Svarga, its golden wheels cutting through the air. As it drew closer, the sunlight burst forth, painting the sky above Svarga with a pale, fish-belly white glow. The light pierced through the endless black clouds, bright and clear.

Huh?! In Svarga, Indra, sitting atop his throne, glanced to the side. His sharp gaze swept across the distance, where a gleam of light gradually reflected in the sky. His eyes widened with realization.

The sun was about to rise! Surya had returned!

With a swift motion, Indra hurled Nishumbha to the ground with a single hand, his expression hardening. The sea of clouds roiled beneath him. Nishumbha, blood staining his hands, slowly rose to his feet, his scarlet eyes burning with fury.

"You can't harm me!" he roared, his voice echoing like a cataclysmic earthquake, shaking the very sea of clouds around them. His massive body swelled once again, his hair writhing like cosmic ravines, a storm of energy swirling around him.

Indra stepped forward, his golden skin radiating a fiery brilliance as if forged from the molten core of a star. His eyes burned with divine resolve, and the very air around him seemed to hum with anticipation. Each breath he took charged the atmosphere, a harbinger of the storm to come.

With a deep breath, Indra drew his fists back to his waist. The skies reverberated with a sound like the awakening of the Sheshanaga—a guttural, otherworldly roar that silenced all else. The clouds above darkened, crackling with sparks of divine energy.

Then, with a sudden motion, Indra launched his fists forward.

Boom! Boom!

The force of his thunderous strikes collided with Nishumbha's chest, shaking the skies themselves.

Nishumbha's massive body trembled violently as his flesh split open, a blinding light erupting from the wound. The agony was etched across his face, his features contorting in pain as sharp, ferocious fangs bared in a twisted snarl.

Staggering, Nishumbha gazed in disbelief at the damage. It hurts! he thought, shock and anger seething within him. I'm actually hurt!

Indra's cold, piercing voice cut through the air. "My fist is neither a Divine or Demonic Astra nor Shastra. Now tell me, do you have the strength to fight me in Svarga?"

With a steely gaze, Indra took a step forward, his movements calculated and powerful. He twisted his waist, drawing his right fist back, and in a flash, it shot forward.

Boom!

The punch struck Nishumbha's left shoulder with the force of a divine hammer. The shoulder exploded, sending shockwaves through the air. Nishumbha was hurled backward, struggling to maintain his footing.

The second punch followed instantly, the golden fist expanding to fill Nishumbha's vision.

Boom!

The impact shattered Nishumbha's consciousness. His body flew through the air like a comet, a burst of light trailing behind him as he crashed into the distant landscape of Svarga.

"It seems your boon's immunity was insufficient." Indra turned slowly, not bothering to look at the explosion behind him. He shook his head, a faint sigh escaping his lips.

KO!!!

Clang!

The wheels of Surya's chariot slammed onto the black clouds beneath, creating a resounding crash. The sky brightened with an endless surge of light, and the oppressive black clouds began to dissipate, revealing the clear, vibrant sky of Svarga once more.

But just as the scene seemed to settle, a shout echoed through the air.

"Indra, it's not good. Vayu and Agni have been captured by Hiranyakashipu!" Surya's urgent voice carried through the clearing sky.

As Indra turned, he saw Surya leap from the sun god's chariot with the fluid grace of a fish, soaring effortlessly toward him. Indra blinked in surprise, his brow furrowing slightly. He reached out and gave Surya a reassuring pat on the shoulder.

"I've seen it too."

His gaze shifted, eyes narrowing as they scanned past Surya and out toward the distant Svarga. A powerful ripple stretched across the horizon, signaling the arrival of the Asura armies, who surged forth like a relentless tide.

Hiranyakashipu's eyes gleamed with sharp focus as he entered the heavenly realm. His gaze swept over Svarga, his vision cutting through the distance like a blade, allowing him to see the entire realm in a single glance.

In an instant, his pupils narrowed. He spotted the bodies of his two Asura generals, Nishumbha and Shumbha, lying motionless on the ground.

He slowly raised his head, his eyes locking onto the distant figure of the King of Svarga. A low chuckle escaped his lips as he murmured to himself, "The King of Svarga actually killed two of my generals in a row. No wonder you were able to defeat my eldest brother."

Suddenly, there was movement.

Shumbha, who had been lying motionless, shot to his feet as though revived from the dead. He fled toward Hiranyakashipu with the frantic speed of a cornered animal, his movements erratic and panicked.

"King!" Shumbha's voice rang out, a mix of shock and relief. He had narrowly escaped death, fortunate to have been kicked aside rather than pummeled into oblivion like Nishumbha.

Hiranyakashipu tilted his head, raising an eyebrow as he watched the general. His lips curled into a wry smile. This one pretended to be dead, he thought, his amusement evident. He waved his hand dismissively, signaling for Shumbha to retreat.

Hiranyakashipu's gaze shifted, eyes narrowing again as he spotted another figure on the horizon—another mountain of body blood flowing from his chest. This one, however, was eerily still, offering no sign of life.

Seems like he's truly dead, Hiranyakashipu mused.

With a dismissive grunt, he stepped forward, brushing past the still-uncertain Shumbha, his footsteps echoing with power. Each step seemed to warp the space around him as he moved with purpose toward Indra.

"You are strong," he said, his voice heavy with respect and challenge. "No wonder you were able to kill my eldest brother and Nishumbha. But you are no match for me. You see, my hard work far exceeds yours."

Chapter Text

Hiranyakashipu stood amidst the swirling tempest, his figure looming like a mountain carved from the void. His eyes burned with an unholy light, his voice carrying the weight of divine defiance as he addressed Indra, who stood resolute but watchful before him.

"Foolish Indra!" Hiranyakashipu bellowed, his laughter rolling across the Svarga like distant thunder. "Do you not see? Your and Svarga's struggles are meaningless! I have surpassed the limitations of mortals, of devas, of this entire Triloka!"

He stepped forward, his shadow stretching across the broken battlefield as his voice grew louder, more triumphant. "Brahma himself has granted me his blessings, and with them, I have become immortal! No weapon forged by man or god can harm me. No force of the Svarga or the earth can touch me!"

He raised his arms as if to command the skies themselves. "I cannot be slain be it day or night, within the walls of a home and outside them or beneath the open sky! I cannot perish by the hands of man, beast, or divine! The very laws of this universe protect my existence!"

Hiranyakashipu's eyes narrowed, his lips curling into a mocking sneer as he fixed his gaze on Indra. "And you, King of Svarga, dare to stand against me? You, whose might is nothing compared to the boons bestowed upon me?"

He took another step forward, his voice now a low growl, dripping with menace. "Know this, Indra: your thunderbolts will shatter like brittle glass. Your armies will crumble like sand before the waves. I am beyond defeat, beyond destruction, beyond death itself!"

His laughter erupted once more, wild and unrelenting as if daring the heavens to refute his claim. "Come then, Deva! Test your strength! Let the heavens and earth bear witness to the futility of your defiance!"

Boom!

The shockwave of his power reverberated, sweeping outward, making the very ground tremble beneath it. With the blessing of the earth's might, his strength surpassed even that of his brother Hiranyaksha, reaching an entirely new level.

Rishi Shukracharya and the Asura warriors nearby recoiled, instinctively retreating from the overwhelming force. None dared challenge it.

The Asura army gathered in hushed awe, their eyes fixed on the towering figure of their king, Hiranyakashipu. The air was thick with anticipation, the atmosphere charged with the raw energy of his newfound power.

"Today, Hiranyakashipu stands stronger and more fearsome than even Hiranyaksha!" Viraksha muttered, his voice heavy with respect and a touch of awe. He was an old warrior, and he had seen many battles, but nothing like this.

Durnita, a younger strategist with a nervous streak, shifted uneasily beside him. "Stronger? He's unstoppable!" His eyes darted nervously toward the horizon, as though expecting a challenge. "Even Indra, with all his might and thunder, is no match for our king now. The Devas must be trembling in their golden halls."

Raktashira, bold and brimming with pride, snorted at Durnita's words. "Indra? He won't even be able to break through our king's defenses!" The Asura's chest swelled with pride as he spoke. "The Tri-Loka is as good as his. No dev, no man, no beast can challenge him—not with the boons granted by Brahma. Have you heard how he laughed off Indra's latest assault? A single roar and the Svarga shook!"

Manthaka's youthful eyes gleaming with ambition, leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "I heard he plans to rewrite the laws of the universe itself. No more sacrifices, no more devas ruling over us. It will be an age of Asuras, an age of power!"

Bhimaratha, the elder of the group, nodded solemnly. His face was marked with wisdom, yet his voice held the caution of experience. "And under his rule, none shall dare to defy us." His gaze shifted toward the horizon, where the golden gates of Svarga were now a distant memory. "The Devas are already in retreat. Soon, we will march on Svarga and claim the Svarga as our own."

Rishi Shukracharya, holding his snake staff, eyed the scene with cold calculation. His gaze flickered, and he spoke with unwavering confidence, "The King of Svarga will fall today."

Indra, however, frowned. He could feel it—the weight of Hiranyakashipu's power. It was more troublesome than Hiranyaksha, his brother. There was no desire to engage in battle. After all, he had already killed Nishumbha; now, faced with the true strength of Hiranyakashipu, a real threat, Indra knew a direct confrontation would be disastrous.

No, this can't be the way! Indra's mind raced. There had to be another way. He could try to outsmart him—find a loophole, a chance to strike without facing the full brunt of Hiranyakashipu's might.

He narrowed his eyes, watching the Asura king approach with measured steps. Slowly, he raised his hand, palm aimed squarely at Hiranyakashipu.

Hiranyakashipu's eyes narrowed, sensing that the King of Svarga was about to act. But he was unphased, his steps unwavering.

Whatever attack Indra planned—be it a vajra or a lightning arrow—Hiranyakashipu had no doubt in his victory. With the blessings he bore, no force could stand against him.

The eyes of Surya and Narada Muni Rishi also lit up, their curiosity piqued. The King of Svarga was always composed, even in the face of such power. Could it be that Indra had received a divine boon too to counter Hiranyakashipu's strength?

"Wait!" Indra called out, his voice breaking the tension. "Before we begin, I have a question."

Hiranyakashipu halted, his gaze turning to the King of Svarga. His voice was slow and deliberate, tinged with impatience. "Speak."

"Are Agni and Vayu both your prisoners?" Indra asked, his tone sharp.

"Yes," Hiranyakashipu answered, nodding slowly. "I bound them with my divine power."

Among the Asura legions, the Vayu and Agni were dragged forward. Both were bound tightly with divine ropes of light green power securing them in place like human-shaped stakes. They were completely immobilized.

"Brother save us!" Agni cried, struggling against the ropes.

"Damn Asura!" Vayu shouted, furious. "Let us go if you have the courage!"

Hiranyakashipu sneered at their pleas, raising his arm and pointing toward the King of Svarga. "Next, you shall join your fallen brothers here, Indra. You who think yourselves untouchable, having drunk Amrita, believe that no power can touch you. But know this—your time of arrogance is over. I will crush you, break your spirit, and render you no more than slaves to my will. You will know the agony of eternal degradation, for this is the price you will pay for the death of my elder brother!" His voice dripped with cold malice.

Indra chuckled softly, his gaze sharp as he slowly lowered his head and rolled his eyes. "It's a good plan, but you've miscalculated," he said, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips.

Hiranyakashipu's eyes narrowed in confusion.

Indra's mind raced, remembering something from his past life. His divine memory was sharp, and as the pieces fell into place, he recalled the name with clarity—Saṃhrāda.

"Your son's name... it's Prahlada, isn't it?" Indra said, his smile widening.

Hiranyakashipu froze for a moment, his face contorting in surprise. "How do you know?!" he demanded, his voice tinged with disbelief.

It was true—his son, Prahlada, had been born to his wife, Sumukhi, after thousands of years of penance. The child had only just been born when he completed his penance, and no one—aside from him and his wife—should have known the name.

Indra nodded, his expression both calm and knowing. "Yes, that's right." He smiled, his eyes glinting as he slowly raised his head to meet Hiranyakashipu's gaze directly.

A moment of silence passed before Indra continued, his tone suddenly turning more pointed. "Isn't it strange, though, how empty my kingdom feels?"

Hiranyakashipu narrowed his eyes. "What are you talking about?" he asked, though a sense of unease crept into his voice.

Indra's lips curled into a grin. "Oh, by the way, you've never been to Svarga, have you?" He spread his arms wide as if presenting a grand revelation. "But Rishi Shukracharya should know well how many Gandharvas reside in my realm. Tell me, do you really think I only have a legion of 100,000 in Svarga?"

Indra's laugh echoed across the battlefield, as if he were in on a secret Hiranyakashipu had yet to understand.

Hiranyakashipu frowned, turning to look at Rishi Shukracharya in surprise.

"That's right," Indra said with a sly grin, "There's more to Svarga than just my legions."

Rishi Shukracharya scanned the surroundings, his eyes narrowing as he noticed the emptiness. The palaces had vanished, and there was no sign of the Gandharva warriors. A chill ran down his spine.

"Where did everyone go?" he muttered, unease creeping into his heart. "Is your remaining army attacking Patalaloka?" Rishi Shukracharya asked, his voice tinged with shock.

"Exactly!" Indra's eyes lit up, his excitement palpable. "Rishi Shukracharya, you're so sharp!"

Hiranyakashipu's face darkened, the uneasiness in his chest growing. He suppressed it with a scowl.

"Hmph, you think you can deceive me?" he sneered. "My territory is guarded by Puloman and Viprachitti. There's no way you can defeat them."

Indra's eyes narrowed as he processed the situation, his mind working quickly.

"Devas might not be able to," Indra muttered under his breath, "but an Asuras might be able to sneak in."

He took a deep breath, his hand rising in a sweeping motion. The thick clouds and mist in Svarga parted, dissipating like a mirror of water, revealing shadows of the human world below. Stars surrounded Mandala Mountain in a stunning display.

"What is this?" Hiranyakashipu demanded, his voice laced with anger.

Indra raised his hand, his fingers pointing toward two dim stars among the constellation. "Do you see these two stars?" he asked calmly.

Hiranyakashipu's eyes narrowed, confusion crossing his face as he looked at the stars. He turned his head, searching for an answer in Rishi Shukracharya's expression.

The Rishi's face hardened, his gaze piercing through Svarga and locking onto the two stars. A cold shiver ran through him as he recognized their faint glow. The familiar, despised power of Vishnu radiated from them.

The stars flickered and slowly coalesced into a hazy light and shadow, revealing the silhouette of a ferocious Asura's head and a giant tail.

It was a form Rishi Shukracharya knew all too well—the very power he had feared.

"Rahu!"

Rishi Shukracharya's expression shifted abruptly, and the words seemed to force themselves out of his throat.

"Rahu?!" Hiranyakashipu's face twisted in confusion.

Rishi Shukracharya gritted his teeth, his anger bubbling over. "This is the power of Vishnu. He turned Rahu into a star god, and now he is one of the Devas!"

"So what?" Hiranyakashipu sneered. "Patalaloka is guarded by Puloman and Viprachitti. Even if this Asura knows the world well, there is no way he can breach it so quickly."

"No!" Rishi Shukracharya shook his head. "You've been focused on your penance, you don't understand. Rahu is Viprachitti's son!"

Boom!

The words struck Hiranyakashipu like a thunderbolt. His mind went blank, and for a moment, everything around him seemed to fade away. His eyes turned bloodshot, and his head snapped toward Indra, his gaze sharp with realization.

All the pieces fell into place.

"You deliberately led us to the Svarga," Hiranyakashipu hissed, his voice laced with fury. "Then you sent a large legion, led by Rahu, to secretly invade Patalaloka, colluding with Viprachitti to capture my wife and children. No wonder my elder brother died at your hands!" His fists clenched, the sheer rage in his voice impossible to ignore. "You are the most despicable man I have ever met!"

At that moment, Hiranyakashipu wanted nothing more than to strike down the King of Svarga. But his wife and children were still in Indra's hands—he couldn't afford to act recklessly, not yet.

Rishi Shukracharya too, looked at Indra with shock and fury.

What a vile scheme! What treachery! What brilliance in planning! Even his old rival, Rishi Brihaspati, would never have been able to deduce such a move.

It could only have been the King of Svarga, the mastermind behind it all. Indra had sent Rahu to infiltrate the underworld, to prepare this devious plot. Surya and Narada Muni, who had been watching in stunned silence, now shared their disbelief.

Indra had sent a legion, and they had been kept in the dark all this time.

Surya's voice broke the silence. "He even deceived me. No wonder he deserves to be the Protector of Svarga. He truly deserves to be the King of Svarga!"

Indra blinked, momentarily caught off guard by the reaction.

"Well," he said, raising his hands in a mock gesture of defeat. "That's right. You're absolutely right. That's exactly what I did." He nodded solemnly, his face serious but oddly calm in the face of the accusations.

Chapter Text

"Hiranyakashipu, you are truly worthy of being King of the Asuras. You saw through my plan so easily!" Indra said, his voice steady but tinged with respect. He nodded in acknowledgment.

Hiranyakashipu gritted his teeth, his face a mix of fury and fear. His eyelids twitched like taut bowstrings, and his fists clenched so tightly they trembled with barely restrained rage.

At this moment, capturing Indra was not the problem. The real issue was how long it would take.

The Amrita of immortality, a powerful elixir that blessed the Devas, was a serious obstacle. And the Svarga realm itself was a seat of divine power and authority. If he tried to capture Indra, time would be his greatest enemy—by the time he succeeded, the earthly realm would likely be turned upside down.

What's worse, his son, Prahlada, was now in the hands of the King of Svarga.

Hiranyakashipu slowly lowered his head, releasing the tension from his clenched fists. "What do you want?" His voice was cold, a trace of resignation in his tone.

Indra's lips curved into a slight smile, surprise flickering in his eyes. This arrogant Asura king actually backed down?

After a brief moment of thought, Indra spoke again. "Hiranyakashipu, I admire your courage and fearlessness. I believe we should settle this between us—compete openly to determine who truly is worthy to become the king of Svarga."

Hiranyakashipu's eyes brightened with anticipation, and he made a move to act.

"But!" Indra raised his hand, a playful smile on his lips. "Not yet."

Hiranyakashipu paused, waiting for what was to come.

"You will release Vayu, Agni, and all soldiers," Indra continued, "and I will call off Soma and Rahu's legions. In return, I will free your wife and son respectfully."

A shadow of suspicion crossed Hiranyakashipu's face. "How can we trust you? What if you don't follow through?"

Rishi Shukracharya, ever vigilant, gripped his snake staff tightly, his voice sharp with doubt. "How can we be sure you'll keep your word?"

Indra clasped his hands together, his gaze narrowing slightly as he remained calm. "I will swear an oath to Lord Vishnu as the witness that I will not harm your wife or children today. Let the devas and the Svarga bear witness to this solemn oath."

"Wait!" Hiranyakashipu's voice rang out, powerful and commanding, cutting through the air as he raised his hand. His eyes locked onto Indra's with a piercing intensity that sent a flicker of doubt through the King of Svarga.

Did he see it?

Indra's heart skipped a beat. Divine chakra surged within him, ready to spring into action. He braced himself, prepared to flee at a moment's notice.

Hiranyakashipu snorted coldly, his expression darkening with anger. He gritted his teeth, clearly dissatisfied.

"Change the witness to Brahma!" he commanded. "And if you break your oath, I want you to relinquish your position as King of Svarga immediately."

His eyes were icy, his tone sharp. Indra and Vishnu were the ones responsible for his eldest brother's death. Having to submit to Indra today had already been a blow to his dignity. If Vishnu were to be used as a witness, it would be the greatest insult of all.

It seemed clear that Hiranyakashipu did not trust Vishnu.

"I, Indra, will never break my word uttered once," Indra replied, his voice steady despite the tension that hung in the air. His words carried a weight of ancient pride, a Kshatriya's sense of honor and duty.

He paused for a moment, deep in thought, before quietly nodding in agreement. Then, raising his palms toward the sky, he spoke with unshakable conviction.

"In that case, I swear to Brahma that if Hiranyakashipu releases Vayu, Agni, and the Heavenly Legions today, I will not harm his wife or children. I will withdraw the Legions from the Patalaloka and leave the entire patalaloka untouched. Should I break my vow, I will relinquish my position as King of Svarga."

His voice boomed like thunder, echoing across Svarga, carrying the weight of his words to every corner of the realm.

Hiranyakashipu exhaled slowly, feeling a sense of certainty settle in his chest. He raised his hand, his voice cold as ice.

"If Indra fulfills his promise, I will release Vayu, Agni, and the other Devas, as well as the Celestial Legions. If I break my oath, I will die at the hands of my enemies."

The gravity of his words hung in the air.

In Brahma's realm, the Creator God sat cross-legged on his lotus throne, a serene smile on his face as he looked down at Svarga. He listened to the exchange below—Indra and Hiranyakashipu invoking his name as a witness. Some still remembered him as the Creator, and for that, Brahma felt a sense of satisfaction.

But he couldn't help but chuckle inwardly. How could Indra claim to have large legions in Patalaloka? All the legions were under Brahma's domain in Satyaloka, especially Rahu, who was currently enjoying himself immensely.

With a slight movement of his eyes, Brahma glanced toward the divine cities of devas in Brahmaloka. The Gandharvas were steadily restoring order, resuming their duties of guarding the realm.

In a grand palace surrounded by a host of guards, Rahu lounged comfortably, his eyes glinting with pleasure as he watched the Apsara dance. He casually coiled his tail around the wine glass, sipping the intoxicating drink.

Though the wine dripped lazily from his throat, his face was flushed, a sure sign that he was thoroughly intoxicated—whether from the Soma Ras or the beauties before him, he couldn't say.

"Hahaha! This is great! I truly love Svarga!" Rahu laughed heartily, his voice full of drunken joy.

Brahma, observing from afar, looked away, lost in thought.

Boom!

Suddenly, the clouds above Svarga gathered, swirling in strange, ever-changing patterns. A massive shadow formed in the sky, casting its presence over the realm. It was Brahma's projection, a manifestation of his divine power. T

hough an ordinary oath wouldn't have required his direct intervention, the situation between the King of Svargaloka and the King of Patalaloka demanded a more serious approach.

"As you wish!" Brahma's voice rang out across the heavens, resonating in waves that echoed and lingered long after.

The dark clouds began to dissipate, and the sky cleared. Surya's radiant light bathed the realm, casting everything in a warm, golden glow.

"Retreat!" Hiranyakashipu ordered coldly, waving his hand dismissively.

At his command, the divine ropes binding Vayu and Agni snapped, and the two gods staggered before quickly retreating toward Indra, panic evident in their movements. Behind them, the antelope and white sheep mounts leaped into the air, making their way toward the Devas. Finally, the Gandharva Legions, mighty and steadfast, followed suit.

Hiranyakashipu fixed Indra with a cold, steely gaze, his voice low but filled with a deep, seething promise. "I will defeat you next time."

Indra's response was calm, almost casual, as if the confrontation were already over. "Yes, definitely next time."

"I will win!"

"Of course, next time," Indra replied smoothly, maintaining his composure.

Hiranyakashipu snorted disdainfully, his face darkening with anger. With a final, bitter glance at Indra, he turned and led his legions, storming toward the earthly realm, his mood as heavy as the atmosphere around him.

Indra stood tall and unwavering, like an immovable mountain, silently observing the asuras retreating from the earth. Vayu and Agni, along with a vast legion of Gandharvas, had also returned.

"I didn't expect Soma to head to the underworld with Rahu. No wonder I haven't seen him around," Vayu remarked, his voice laced with surprise. "I thought he had gone to the human world. Looks like I was wrong about him."

Agni sighed. "The King of Svarga shouldn't have promised them anything. They can't kill us, after all. Soma can just destroy the patalaloka instead."

"That makes sense," Surya nodded thoughtfully, his eyes glinting with understanding.

The Devas gathered together, reflecting on their previous tactics. As the group deliberated, Narada Muni, ever the sage, tilted his head, blinking his eyes as he gently plucked the strings of his veena. A knowing smile spread across his face.

"Narayana Narayana! Do you think we can wait for these asuras to return, then pursue them and catch their legions by surprise?" he asked, his tone almost playful.

"Plus Indra is bound by oath, but the devas and the entire army is not bound by the oath between the King of Svarga and Hiranyakashipu," Narada muni pointed out, and his smile deepened.

"What about Hiranyakashipu?"

"The King of Svarga will deal with him," Narada Muni responded, his eyes gleaming with hidden wisdom.

The Devas' eyes widened in realization. The plan could actually work.

"This could work," Surya murmured, his thoughts racing. "The King only needs to hold Hiranyakashipu. If we, the Devas, act together, we can strike the Asura legions with overwhelming force. Since we're acting separately, it won't violate the oath, and the legions on patala won't be involved."

Surya turned to the King of Svarga, his expression filled with anticipation. "Indra, what do you think?"

Indra's gaze flickered momentarily as a flash of thought crossed his mind. His eyes reflected a distant vision, crossing the void to Brahma Loka.

"Why aren't you running faster to Brahmaloka?! There are no legions in the Patalaloka!"

The roar reverberated in the ears of the Devas, echoing for a long time.

The Devas froze in shock.

"No legions?"

"Then where are Soma and Agni?!"

A cold chill ran down their spines. This was bad.

"Aruna!" Surya's eyes widened in realization. He whirled around, moving faster than the wind itself, faster even than the God of Wind. Without hesitation, he flew toward the Sun Chariot, shouting urgently for the God of Dawn.

Aruna, already knowing what was coming, reacted instantly. With a swift wave of the reins, a sharp crack echoed through the air. The horses neighed loudly, the wheels of the chariot creaked, and the chariot took off at full speed.

"If there are no legions, what happens when the Asuras return?" Surya thought grimly. "This isn't good."

The Devas and the Gandharva legions immediately grasped the severity of the situation. One by one, they rushed toward the Sun Chariot, scrambling to climb aboard.

Fortunately, the radiance of the Sun Chariot was like a tangible thread, an ethereal rope that they could cling to. The Gandharvas grasped the shining strands as though they were lifelines, swinging onto the chariot like a train, racing toward Brahmaloka as if they were pulling the Milky Way itself.

"Slower! Wait for me!"

"Add me in!"

Aruna's eyes widened in horror as he looked at the stumbling horses. His heart raced. Now, it was time for his skills to shine. This was high-stakes driving, a test of precision and speed!

Chapter Text

"Quick!" On the other side, Hiranyakashipu's expression was tense with urgency. He nearly outran his own legions, plunging through layers of void and across vast stretches of space.

Boom!

As soon as Hiranyakashipu returned to Patala, he shot toward the Asura Temple like a meteor streaking across the sky. He looked down, the landscape of Patala passing beneath him in a blur.

But soon...

He noticed something amiss. The surroundings were eerily silent, almost unnaturally so. The area was pristine, untouched—no sign of bloodshed, no evidence of a battle.

"What is this?!" Hiranyakashipu's expression darkened. A wave of realization hit him, and his unease deepened.

As he reached the Asura Temple, the figures of Puloman and Viprachitti came into view, walking side by side with a group of Asura guards flanking them.

Boom!

Without slowing down, Hiranyakashipu crashed to the ground like a meteor, landing in a massive crater. His powerful strike sent shockwaves through the Patala, and he waved his hand violently, clearing the rising smoke with a gust of wind.

His golden eyes scanned the two figures before him.

Puloman instinctively recoiled, taking a half step back in surprise.

"King?"

"When did you come back?" Viprachitti asked confusion and surprise clear in his voice. He raised one hand to his chest, gesturing a respectful bow.

Something about their reaction was all wrong.

A sinking feeling settled in Hiranyakashipu's gut, his suspicions quickly taking root. He stood motionless for a moment, the weight of his growing anger reflected in the deepening scowl on his face.

"Is everything alright in Patala?" Hiranyakashipu's voice came out hoarse, each word struggling to escape from his throat.

"King, everything is normal!" Viprachitti answered, his tone calm, though a flicker of uncertainty flashed in his eyes.

Hiranyakashipu's face twisted in fury, his silence amplifying the weight of his anger. Without a word, he spun around and launched himself into the sky with a resounding bang.

Moments later, he crashed into a palace like a meteor. His feet barely touched the ground before he stormed inside, his pace relentless. There, he found his wife, a beautiful Asura woman, Sumukhi, cradling a child in her arms as she breastfed.

"Husband, have you returned victorious?" she asked, a smile playing on her lips. "No wonder Prahlada suddenly stopped crying!"

She looked up in surprise, the joy on her face quickly fading as she saw the rage in Hiranyakashipu's eyes. His face was bloodshot, and a deep, unsettling gloom hung around him. The sight of her husband's fury startled her, and she instinctively rocked the child in her arms, trying to calm the tense atmosphere.

But Hiranyakashipu wasn't listening.

"That lying dev...!" he growled, his voice trembling with rage.

"Indra!!"

"Rahu!!!"

His pupils turned blood red as his hair whipped around him in a frenzy, his powerful, terrifying form trembling slightly. He clenched his fists so tightly that his knuckles cracked, letting out a bloodcurdling roar that seemed to shake the very foundations of the palace.

He had been deceived. Betrayed.

"Damn Indra! Damn him to the depths of hell!" he screamed, his rage boiling over.

Boom!

The entire palace shook with the force of his fury. Without a second thought, Hiranyakashipu rose from the ground like a tempest, crashing through the palace walls in an instant. He shot straight toward Svarga, his body propelled forward by the sheer force of his wrath.

He was like a furious bull, a shooting star streaking toward Svarga, consumed by the humiliation and anger of having been played by his enemy. The dark, destructive nature that had always lurked within him was now fully unleashed, filling him with an uncontrollable rage.

The Asura Legions, who had just returned, were caught off guard by the unstoppable force of the "meteor" that Hiranyakashipu had become. The impact was catastrophic, like a natural disaster in motion, shattering the statues and sending them crashing to the ground. The shockwave of air tore through everything in its path.

Rishi Shukracharya, who had been observing from a distance, stumbled as the force of the impact rattled him. He looked up, his eyes widening at the sight of Hiranyakashipu's flying figure.

"Hiranyakashipu!" Rishi Shukracharya gasped, his voice filled with surprise.

Moments later, Viprachitti appeared, soaring toward the scene with confusion in his eyes.

"What happened to the king?!" Viprachitti called out, his voice tinged with concern. "Did you lose?"

He was baffled by the sight, unable to understand what had just unfolded.

Rishi Shukracharya looked at the confused Viprachitti, his voice sharp with disbelief. "Your son Rahu hasn't returned?!"

"Ah! My son is still alive?" Viprachitti's body swayed slightly, his eyes widening with shock.

The realization hit Rishi Shukracharya like a bolt of lightning. He understood now—he had been deceived by Indra, just like Hiranyakashipu. Not only had the King of Svarga tricked Hiranyakashipu, but he had also outwitted the teacher of Asura, leading him down a false path. A sense of shame washed over him.

He had been the teacher of Asura for countless eons, revered for his wisdom, yet he had fallen for Indra's deception.

"!!!"

"Damn him!" Rishi Shukracharya's rage erupted in a roar that echoed through the sky. His eyes burned with fury. Without hesitation, he lifted his snake staff high and turned toward the Asura Legions behind him. "Return to Svarga! We will make them pay!"

With a wave of his hand, Rishi Shukracharya soared into the sky, the Asura Legions close behind him, their massive presence ready to strike.

Only Viprachitti remained on the ground, still stunned and confused, trying to make sense of the chaos unfolding around him. "What about my son?" he murmured to himself.

…

Boom!

Hiranyakashipu, consumed by fury, crashed into Svarga like a meteor, his body plummeting through the sky, scattering clouds in all directions. The deafening explosion of his impact shook the heavens.

"Indra!" he roared, his voice reverberating with primal rage. "Indra!"

His body, bloodshot and crackling with energy, surged with power. Muscles bulged like rolling naga coils, veins pulsing with fiery blood that flowed like the Ganges. The terrifying shockwaves from his rage sent ripples through the air, shattering the white clouds around him.

Svarga lay in ruins, empty of its divine inhabitants... or so it seemed.

But there was something else. Something waiting.

Hiranyakashipu gritted his teeth, his bloodshot eyes narrowing as he scanned the Svarga. There, in the center, atop a cloud of pure white, sat a golden throne. It was draped with divine satin cushions and radiated a brilliance so intense it seemed to outshine the very heavens.

His anger flared as he marched toward it, each step heavy with fury.

"King of Svarga!" he roared, his voice shaking the air itself.

With a roar of pure rage, he grasped the sides of the throne. His powerful arms exploded with divine energy, lifting the throne effortlessly, as though it were nothing more than a toy. The golden throne rose high, bathed in a brilliant light that shimmered like a rainbow, like sunlight dancing across the water, like the silvery traces of the moon. It cast radiant beams of brilliance across Svarga.

Hiranyakashipu stared at the throne, his bloodshot gaze seething with contempt. His chest heaved, and the air around him seemed to vibrate with the weight of his fury.

Boom!

He slammed the throne down with a cold grunt, his expression twisted in disgust. Spinning on his heel, he waved his robe in a flourish and seated himself on the throne, gripping the golden sword that lay beside him.

A wave of satisfaction washed over him as his body sank into the throne, a deep sense of comfort flooding through him.

"Despicable Indra..." Hiranyakashipu muttered under his breath. "What qualifications does he have to sit on such a throne? A coward who only knows how to run away!"

His anger simmered down, replaced by a dangerous pride as he leaned back, his hands resting on the throne's arms. Slowly, he began to shift his weight, rubbing his backside against the seat like a child playing with a new toy.

"Svarga belongs to me now," he declared, his voice full of arrogant certainty.

As he sat there, his thoughts turned inward. "Brother, I can do what you couldn't. I can achieve what you never would."

He closed his eyes slowly, his breathing steadying as he focused his immense power. His energy spread out across Svarga like ripples on a pond, the very fabric of the realm responding to his call. It was as though he had become one with Svarga, the power of the realm gathering and surging back into his body, making him feel unstoppable.

At that moment, Rishi Shukracharya arrived, flying in with the Asura Legions behind him. His eyes immediately locked onto Hiranyakashipu, sitting proudly on the golden throne, and he felt the tremendous surge of power emanating from his comrade.

"Hiranyakashipu!" Rishi Shukracharya shouted, a mix of awe and concern in his voice. "What have you done?"

Hiranyakashipu opened his eyes, a maniacal grin spreading across his face. The power that surged through his body filled him with an almost intoxicating excitement.

"My power is endless!" he roared, his laughter echoing throughout Svarga, reverberating through the very clouds.

Rishi Shukracharya could feel it—an overwhelming wave of power, like a storm ready to break. Hiranyakashipu had transformed, and the heavens themselves trembled before him.

Hiranyakashipu rose from the golden throne, his imposing figure towering as he opened his arms wide. Each step he took toward Rishi Shukracharya carried an air of unyielding authority, his voice ringing out like thunder.

"From this day forward, Svarga will belong to the Asuras!" he declared, his tone brimming with unshakable resolve. "The entire Tri Loka will bow before us!"

His fists clenched tightly as visions of his enemies flashed in his mind—figures bathed in divine light, their gazes piercing with the cold fire of hatred.

"Vishnu," he spat, his voice dripping venom. "And Indra!" His roar echoed through the skies, his disdain palpable.

Hiranyakashipu's eyes burned with a fiery intensity, his voice resounding like the roar of a tempest as he declared his will to the heavens and earth. "Hear me, all who dwell within the Tri Loka! From this moment forth, let no prayers be offered to Vishnu! Let no hymn of praise be sung to Indra! Let the trembling Devas, those craven usurpers, receive neither offering nor reverence!"

He paused, his gaze a piercing flame that swept across the gathered Asuras, commanding their unwavering loyalty.

"From this day, the people of the Tri Loka shall bow only to me—the true lords of existence! And they shall revere but one sovereign, one ruler above all…" His voice rose, a thunderclap of defiance that shook the firmament itself. "Hiranyakashipu! The undisputed King of the Tri Loka!"

The proclamation hung heavy in the air, the sheer weight of his words sending shockwaves through his audience.

Rishi Shukracharya's eyes widened, his composure faltering as the enormity of Hiranyakashipu's ambitions became clear. For a moment, the great Rishi was frozen, caught between awe and alarm.

Brahmaloka

In the radiant city of Amravati, Indra stood at the gates, his sharp gaze fixed on the horizon. In the distance, the sun chariot gleamed as Gandharvas leaped gracefully from its celestial platform. The divine horse pulling the chariot snorted, white-hot air streaming from its nostrils like trails of fire.

Indra's expression hardened, his brows furrowing as an unsettling sensation washed over him. A faint weakness crept into his body, gnawing at the edges of his divine strength.

"Without Svarga… my power has begun to wane," he murmured, his voice laced with concern. His hand instinctively gripped his Vajra tighter.

Yet, amidst the encroaching vulnerability, a strange realization dawned upon him. He closed his eyes, sensing the shift within.

"But…" he said, his voice tinged with surprise, "the power of my penance… it's growing stronger!"

Indra's eyes snapped open, a mixture of shock and determination flashing within them. He straightened, the divine resolve of the King of Devas rekindling as he prepared for the trials that lay ahead.

Chapter Text

The issue of divine weakness wasn't confined to Indra alone.

The great Devas of Fire, Water, Wind, and Sun also felt their strength waning. They had always drawn their power from the prayers and devotion of the mortal world. The faith and reverence of humans had always served as a conduit for their strength—each prayer, each ritual, and each offering from the worshippers had bolstered their divine forms, allowing them to maintain their positions as the caretakers of the natural world.

However, this connection had been severed as they had lost Svarga to Asuras. It was as if an unseen force was draining their power, leaving them hollow and frail. Among them, Surya, the Sun God, seemed to suffer the most.

Surya groaned, one hand pressing against his lower back as exhaustion weighed heavily on him. His golden complexion looked pale, a bitter expression etched across his face.
"Enough!" he snapped, waving his hand frantically. "Get out of my chariot! All of you, out!"

The sun-god chariot, dazzling with celestial radiance, was crammed with Devas and Gandharvas. The overburdened vehicle had pushed Surya's divine power to its limits. If not for Aruna's masterful navigation and the unparalleled strength of the chariot's fiery steeds, they might never have reached Brahmaloka.

Boom!

The overloaded chariot finally landed with a resounding crash, like a small mountain collapsing. The Devas spilled out of the chariot in a chaotic tumble, looking more like mortals than divine beings.

The Gandharvas, more agile, released their grip on the chariot's luminous ropes and landed gracefully on the ground. They straightened themselves, gazing around in awe and curiosity.

Before them stretched the divine expanse of Brahmaloka—a vast, tranquil void perfumed with the delicate fragrance of lotuses. Ethereal music, soft and otherworldly, resonated faintly in the air, filling their senses with peace.

And then, amidst the divine light that bathed the realm, a magnificent sight emerged. A radiant pink-and-white lotus materialized in the void, its petals unfurling like a sunrise. From the center of the lotus, the Creator, Brahma, appeared, seated cross-legged. His four faces gazed in all directions, embodying wisdom and omniscience. In his hands, he held the Vedas, a rosary, a lotus flower, and a kamandala, each symbolizing aspects of his boundless divinity.

The assembled crowd fell silent, humbled in the presence of the Creator. Indra, ever mindful of decorum, stepped forward, clasping his hands in reverence. His expression was solemn and respectful, his pride tempered by the gravity of the moment.

"Pranam Brahmadev!" he intoned, his voice carrying both humility and authority.

One by one, the Devas aligned themselves behind Indra, their movements now coordinated and dignified. The Gandharvas, ever graceful, mirrored their composure, standing neatly in rows.

In unison, their voices rose, a chant of devotion and respect.
"Pranam Brahma-Pita!"

"Pranam Brahma-Pita!"

Their words echoed through Brahmaloka, resonating like a hymn that reverberated into infinity.

The echoes of "Pranam" rippled through Brahmaloka, reverberating endlessly across the divine expanse. Fragrant lotus blossoms ascended into the air, filling the void with an otherworldly beauty.

The Gandharva guards stationed throughout the temple, along with the celestial dancers mid-performance, all turned toward Brahma. They paused in unison, bowing deeply to honor the Creator God.

Rahu, still groggy from his intoxication, stirred abruptly. His tail scratched the side of his head as if trying to shake off the haze. Then, with a sharp jolt, his detached head sprang into the air, swiveling toward the wine glass precariously balanced on his tail.

His disoriented expression shifted into irritation. "Seriously!" he muttered, spitting in exasperation.

Rahu raised his head—now reattached to his neck—and looked in the direction of Brahma. For the first time, a rare flicker of reverence appeared in his demeanor. Slowly, almost reluctantly, he lowered himself into a posture of worship.

"Pranam, Brahma-Pita," Rahu murmured, his voice uncharacteristically solemn.

After all, Brahma was his ancestor. Rahu's father, Viprachitti, was the son of Sage Kashyapa and Diti, making Rahu a direct descendant of the Creator himself. Though his lineage was steeped in rebellion—his father Viprachitti, his mother Simhika, and the Asuras at large had waged countless wars against the Devas—Rahu could not completely deny the respect owed to Brahma.

Brahma's serene gaze swept across the Devas and Gandharvas gathered before him. Their collective chants of devotion resonated like waves, and for a fleeting moment, Brahma's snow-white beard twitched upwards in a subtle smile.

This level of reverence was once reserved for Vishnu, the Preserver of the universe. Yet now, here he was, basking in the honor.

With a deep, resonant voice, Brahma addressed the assembly. "Hiranyakashipu has seized the Svarga and declared himself the ruler of the Tri Loka. He outlawed prayer and rebelled against the Dharma. Mark my words—his downfall is inevitable!"

His gaze softened as he regarded the Devas, their weakened forms a testament to their suffering. "Devas," he continued, "for now, I can only ask you to endure this hardship."

For a moment, unease flickered in Brahma's eyes. Hiranyakashipu's ascent had been facilitated by a boon Brahma himself had granted. He silently hoped the Devas wouldn't hold it against him.

Indra stepped forward, his expression a mixture of resolve and satisfaction. The penance he had undertaken filled him with surging energy, like a kundalini fire spiraling through his body. The sensation was exhilarating.

"Lord Brahma," Indra began, his voice steady, "Hiranyakashipu may have overthrown Svarga, but in doing so, he has given us the opportunity for reflection and growth. Though we've lost the Svarga, I am confident that with the guidance of Trimurti, we can preserve the order of the universe."

Indra's lips curled into a slight smile. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, he felt a flicker of hope.

Brahma's eyes opened slightly, their radiance casting an ethereal glow across the gathering. A subtle yet satisfied smile played on his lips, revealing his delight.

He relished hearing such optimism. "Stay here in Brahmaloka for now and live well," he said warmly, his voice imbued with reassurance.

With a nod of approval, Brahma's figure shimmered and vanished, leaving the Devas in his wake.

As soon as the Creator God disappeared, the solemn atmosphere dissipated like a passing storm. The Devas, their spirits rejuvenated, quickly returned to their usual jovial selves.

"Even though we've lost Svarga, we're now in Brahmaloka—the very realm of the Creator!" Agni declared, his fiery presence practically radiating confidence. "We're still above the Asuras, trampling them beneath our feet. And let's not forget—we haven't lost a single soldier yet!"

His words struck a chord.

"That's true!" Varuna chimed in, his watery gaze sparkling with newfound clarity.

The Devas' morale lifted even higher as a group of figures approached—Soma, the god of wine, alongside Brihaspati's celestial attendants and Brihaspati's wife, Tara.

Soma exuded a carefree aura, his silver armor gleaming brilliantly under the celestial light. His smile was as intoxicating as the divine drink he was known for.
"You've all fought countless battles against the Asuras—you must be exhausted," Soma said, his tone both soothing and inviting. "I've prepared plenty of soma ras for everyone to enjoy. Whenever you're ready, it's yours!"

He gestured grandly before adding, "The Apsaras have also prepared a dance to celebrate your safety and survival. Let us revel in this moment of peace!"

Cheers erupted among the Devas. The promise of wine and festivity was all they needed to lift their spirits completely.

"Drink with us, Soma!" Rahu shouted.

"Let's go!" Varuna cheered, already heading toward the festivities.

Surya, however, paused. A fond smile touched his lips as he turned toward the Sun Palace.
"Wait for me—I'll join you soon," he called over his shoulder. "I want to check on Sanjana first."

With that, the sun god took off, his radiant figure streaking toward his palace to reunite with his beloved wife before joining the celebration.

Vayu glanced at Indra, who was still standing beside him, a contemplative expression on his face. A playful smile tugged at Vayu's lips as he nudged his friend.

"Come on, Indra! Let's go!" he said with a teasing lilt. "You've got the strongest drinking capacity among us all. I want to see you outdrink everyone in one go!"

Indra stiffened, shaking his head vigorously like a rattling drum.

"Drink?!" he exclaimed, incredulous. "That would ruin my penance! Absolutely not! I'm not drinking!"

With an air of finality, he crossed his arms. "I need to rest. You go enjoy yourself."

Vayu's expression shifted to concern. "Rest? Are you hurt, King?"

As one of Indra's closest companions, Vayu's worry was genuine. His inquiry drew the attention of the other Devas, who had been boisterously preparing for the festivities but now turned toward their king, their faces etched with concern.

"I'm fine," Indra assured them quickly, waving off their worries. "I was just thinking about the grand counterattack to get back Svarga. When the time comes, I'll lead the charge to the Svarga and force out all the Asuras!"

His words, though spoken with conviction, were little more than bluster. The so-called grand counterattack was as nebulous as the shifting winds—plans on paper that changed with the seasons. Spring counterattack! Summer counterattack! Autumn and winter, too! It was a recurring cycle of ambition and delay.

The Devas, reassured by Indra's confident declaration, returned to their revelry with eased hearts.

Indra, however, slipped away into his palace, seeking solitude to resume his penance.

The Palace of the King of Svarga was a masterpiece of opulence. Every corner gleamed with golden splendor, the pillars encrusted with radiant gems that reflected dazzling light. Silken divine drapes softened the glow, casting a serene ambiance. A faint, entrancing fragrance of incense wafted through the air, adding to the palace's otherworldly allure.

"Pranam Indra dev!"

The melodic voices of Apsaras greeted him as he passed. Their eyes sparkled like stars, their teeth pearly white against their warm smiles. Their beauty, matched only by their grace, seemed to bring the very palace to life.

Indra nodded in acknowledgment, his thoughts momentarily diverted by their presence. Despite the grandeur and admiration surrounding him, his mind remained focused on his penance—a beacon of stability in the ever-shifting realm of the divine.

Indra stood frozen for a moment, staring at his surroundings with a blank expression.

"...This is no place for ascetic practice," he muttered under his breath.

The golden light reflecting off every surface, the fragrant breeze, and the overwhelming opulence of the palace left him feeling out of place.

"This is not okay!" he exclaimed, frustration slipping into his tone. "I came here prepared to endure hardship, not bask in luxury!"

With a determined pout, Indra spun on his heel and left the palace of the King of Svarga.

But where to go?

He paused at the entrance, glancing around the gleaming city of Amravati. Every corner shimmered with golden light, so extravagantly radiant it nearly made his head spin.

"Why is Amravati City like this?!" he grumbled. "Why is everything so overdone?"

His frown deepened as he scanned the horizon. The indulgence of his surroundings only served to remind him of his goal. "I'm an ascetic," he resolved, "and I need a place that reflects that. Maybe the Nandana Garden will do the trick."

The Nandana Garden was near a place where the Devas stored their weapons. To his recollection, it was a modest and unassuming space—nothing like the grandeur of Amravati.

The Svarga had been at peace for so long that the Nandana Garden had fallen out of regular use. It seemed like the perfect retreat for his penance.

With his mind made up, Indra set off, his footsteps resolute as he moved toward the more subdued corner of Svarga.

Chapter Text

Speaking of weapons, the craftsmanship of Vishvakarma, the god of artisans, was unparalleled. His divine creations were nothing short of extraordinary. These weapons possessed the ability to be summoned with ease. All the Devas had to do was open their hands, and in a flash of golden light, the weapon would materialize, ready for battle. When not in use, the weapons could be carried on their bodies, always at the ready.

The weapons left in the armory near the Nandana Garden were rarely used, and preserved as symbols of divine power and craftsmanship. Indra walked briskly toward the garden, eager to revisit the sacred grounds.

The Nandana Garden dazzled with its splendor, its golden palace gleaming in the light. Inside, the black altars were more majestic than ever, their magnificence surpassing even the previous design. The garden's layout maintained the unified, ethereal style of Amravati, the city of the Devas.

"Huh?!" Indra paused, his brow furrowing in confusion. "Why does it look different?"

His eyes scanned the surroundings before landing on the Gandharva warriors who stood guard in the garden.

"King of Svarga," one of the Gandharvas, named Sudarshan, spoke carefully, sensing the question in Indra's eyes. "You used to come here often, to fight and spar with the Devas after drinking. So, the god of craftsmanship, Vishvakarma, personally reinforced and renovated this place. He made it stronger and more beautiful than ever before."

Sudarshan, standing with pride, continued, "And not only that, my lord, but the Kalpavriksha has also been planted here by you. Its divine powers protect this sacred garden, granting prosperity and ensuring its strength. The tree's presence enhances the temple's power and draws in the blessings of the Brahmand. It's said that the gardens will thrive as long as the Kalpavriksha stands."

Indra clicked his tongue, disbelief mixed with admiration. "The god of craftsmanship, indeed..." he muttered. "Renovating my house without telling me, and making it so impressive..."

He shook his head, amused by the god's attention to detail. With his mind still racing, he turned his gaze toward the temple ahead. His eyes narrowed as he approached, stepping into the familiar space filled with memories, and came to a shrine.

There, a divine chakra, radiant with golden light, spun effortlessly. The flames that danced around it flickered like blades, slicing through the void with divine precision. It was the Surya Chakra—a weapon of immense power, forged by the hands of Vishvakarma, with Surya aiding in its creation.

Indra recalled the tale of how this weapon came to be. Surya had long radiated his brilliance across the heavens. His light, unmatched by any other, was a source of life and strength. Recognizing the need for a weapon that could match the sun's radiant power, Indra called upon Vishvakarma, the divine architect. Yet it was not only Vishvakarma who shaped the Surya Chakra—Surya himself, with his divine energy, contributed to its creation. The very essence of his light was infused into the weapon, allowing it to shine with the same intensity as the sun itself.

"Such a marvel..." Indra murmured, gazing in awe at the weapon's brilliance.

Unfortunately, he sighed, casting a regretful glance at the wheel. "But I still it will help us in our current situation... what a waste."

He shook his head and continued forward, his eyes landing on the shrine, where two nail hammers rested, waiting for their next use.

Two maces lay side by side, their surfaces crackling with divine energy. On the left, moist blue lightning flickered, while on the right, dry red lightning radiated with an intense, almost oppressive force. The two bolts of lightning surged between them, dancing in a chaotic harmony.

These maces, known as Vṛṣṭi and Duṣkarṣa, were weapons of great power. Vṛṣṭi summoned lightning and rain, while Duṣkarṣa conjured the dried the land where it was struck and brought famine. Despite their power of destruction, their functions overlapped with that of the Vajra and his authority of rain, rendering them less useful in battle. As a result, Indra rarely wielded them, leaving them to gather dust in the corners of the Nandana Garden.

Indra moved past them, his focus unwavering, but as he did, a divine spear materialized before him. The Amogha Spear gleamed with a sharp, cold light, its form sleek and deadly, reminiscent of a javelin designed for destruction.

The Amogha Spear was renowned for its unmatched sharpness. Once thrown, it could multiply into billions of lethal projectiles, each one capable of piercing an enemy's heart without fail.

Indra raised his hand and grasped the spear's shaft. The familiar weight and balance felt comforting, like an old companion. A thought crossed his mind, pragmatic and decisive. "Just in case, I'll bring it with me."

His gaze swept across the altars surrounding him, his eyes narrowing as they landed on a golden conch. The Panchajanya Conch. It was a symbol of divine power—when blown, it produced a sound like thunder that instilled awe and fear in enemies who heard it.

Without hesitation, Indra's mind reached out, and the conch transformed into a beam of golden light, soaring into his body. "Take this too," he muttered to himself.

His footsteps echoed softly as he turned to leave, but his gaze lingered on Vṛṣṭi and Duṣkarṣa. He hesitated, then sighed. "It seems a waste to leave them behind."

With a flick of his hand, both maces flashed with golden light and vanished, now safely tucked within his divine arsenal. "Better to have them on hand, just in case," he mused.

As he moved through the garden, his eyes fell on a familiar divine Chakra. "Such a shame to let it gather dust," he said, shaking his head. With another wave of his hand, the wheel transformed into golden light and joined the rest of his divine weapons.

He continued his walk, his thoughts racing as he gathered any item he might need for the trials ahead. "This hook, this net... who knows when they might prove useful?" he muttered, collecting them too.

With everything now in his possession, Indra walked confidently through the Nandana Gardens, prepared for whatever challenges lay ahead.

For a moment, golden light flickered ceaselessly as the divine weapons in the temple were drawn into Indra's body. In an instant, the altar stood empty, the once-proud artifacts now concealed within him.

Indra smiled, satisfied, and slowly made his way out of the temple.

"Do a good job!" he called out, casting a casual glance at the Gandharva warriors standing guard.

"Yes, Lord Indra!" they responded in unison, their voices full of resolve. "We will protect the Astras with our lives!"

Indra nodded approvingly, his expression softening for a brief moment. Then, he turned, his steps purposeful. This, he thought, was not the place for ascetic practice.

His eyes shifted toward the skies, the vastness of the Brahmaloka calling to him. "Why not seek a quiet deserted place in Brahmaloka instead?" he mused aloud. The thought felt right—there, he would find the peace needed for the spiritual work ahead.

Suddenly, a loud trumpet-like sound echoed through the air. Prrraaaaa!! The noise was unmistakable.

"Airavata?" Indra smiled, recognizing the call of his mighty elephant. He followed the sound, stepping into a serene mixed forest garden. Around him, vibrant grass grew in thick clusters, wildflowers dotted the landscape, and a crystal-clear lake stretched out, reflecting the majestic form of a snow-white giant elephant, its three heads and six tusks gleaming in the soft sunlight.

"This place is perfect," Indra mused, nodding with satisfaction. The tranquility of the surroundings made it an ideal spot for his ascetic practice. It would be far better than any place within Amravati City.

He stood for a moment, breathing in the peaceful atmosphere before a shift of his mind brought his Sahsrakavacha—the protective armor—vanishing in a flash. Now, standing beneath the shade of a nearby tree, Indra was dressed simply in a plain white robe embroidered with gold. His black hair cascaded around his shoulders, and a rosary hung from his neck, two more strings of beads wrapped tightly around his muscular arms.

The transformation was seamless.

Indra felt the familiar hum of power surge through him, the divine energy within him becoming more alive, more intense—like a storm gathering force. The spiritual heat built up in his body, invigorating him with each passing moment.

Slowly, he walked under the shelter of a Bodhi tree, the branches thick with leaves casting soft, mottled shadows on the ground. He sank into the lush grass, folding his arms behind his head, eyes closing in quiet satisfaction.

"The Svarga is good, but Brahmaloka... it's truly perfect," Indra whispered, feeling the peaceful energy of the place seep into his very being. "This will do. I'll practice hard here."

It had taken an effort to find this peaceful refuge, but now, with his body relaxed and his spirit beginning to align, Indra let go of the day's troubles. His mind slowed, his body sinking deeper into the earth. The calming sound of the nearby lake, the soft rustle of the trees—soon, Indra drifted into a deep, meditative sleep.

The skyline of Svarga gleamed in the distance, where majestic temples stood, their architecture simple yet solemn. These structures were dark in hue, their quiet elegance punctuated by the presence of water chestnuts growing in the surrounding waters.

At the heart of Svarga, in the grandest and most regal of these temples, King Hiranyakashipu, ruler of the Asuras, sat upon his golden throne. The temple exuded an aura of power, but tension also hung thick in the air. Shukracharya, the revered teacher of the Asuras, stood before him, his expression serious as he regarded his former pupil.

"Hiranyakashipu," Shukracharya began his voice grave, "you have forbidden the yajnas and prayers to the Devas. This is a direct violation of the laws. If you continue down this path, your rule over Svarga will be short-lived."

Hiranyakashipu's face tightened, his gaze turning steely as his hands gripped the armrests of his throne. He was silent for a moment, the weight of his teacher's words settling heavily on him.

"Teacher," he finally spoke, his voice laced with anger, "I understand what you are saying. But the King of Svarga, Indra, and Vishnu—they killed my elder brother. The Devas are no better, complicit in the murder. I cannot forgive them, and I will make them pay."

His fists clenched as he spoke, a surge of rage filling his chest. The thought of torturing Indra for revenge was intoxicating, yet he knew that Indra was shielded by the Amrita, the nectar of immortality, and thus could not be slain—at least not yet.

Shukracharya shook his head, disappointment etched into his features. "But in seeking vengeance, you are rebelling against the divine law. The Trimurti will take action if you continue this defiance."

Hiranyakashipu fell into a brooding silence. The tension in the room was palpable as the moments passed, and after a long pause, he spoke again, his tone resolute.

"Teacher," he said quietly, "I ask for your help."

It was clear that Hiranyakashipu had not abandoned his pursuit of vengeance, no matter the consequences.

Shukracharya sighed deeply. His former pupil was stubborn, unlike Hiranyaksha, who had been reckless. Hiranyakashipu was more calculated, more determined—once he set his mind to something, he would not easily be swayed.

"I cannot help you in the way you wish," Shukracharya replied, his voice measured. "But if Indra was captured, would you reconsider your course of action?"

A glimmer of interest sparked in Hiranyakashipu's eyes, and he raised a finger in sudden realization. "Teacher," he said, his voice now tinged with a renewed fervor, "you have a way. If Indra is captured, then I will decree that only Vishnu be denied prayers—just Vishnu, no one else."

Shukracharya's mind raced as he considered the implications. Banning sacrifices to Vishnu alone would be a far lesser transgression than prohibiting all Devas. It would draw less divine ire, yet still send a strong message.

"Very well," Shukracharya thought, contemplating the path ahead. "This may be the key to your victory—or your downfall."

"The Devas are essential for maintaining nature and the world," Shukracharya explained, his tone measured yet firm. "Surya rides in his chariot which Surya itself across the sky to ensure the sun rises in the east and sets in the west. This cosmic cycle cannot be disrupted."

He paused, letting his words sink in before continuing. "When Indra commands the thunder and clouds, it brings the rains. Vishnu, the protector of the world, keeps them all in check, ensuring they perform their duties."

Shukracharya's eyes glinted with quiet certainty. "In two days, the Devas will attempt to emerge from Brahmaloka. The first to do so will likely be Vayu, the wind god. Do not intimidate him."

He leaned forward slightly, his voice lowering to a conspiratorial whisper. "When he comes out, tell him that while you will no longer stop devas from fulfilling their duties, you will continue to prevent humans from worshipping them. Make them believe that your opposition is stopping them from doing their Dharma, but due to their Karma in killing your brother."

Shukracharya's gaze darkened as he spoke of his strategy. "No matter how cautious the Devas are, they will grow careless over time. In a year their vigilance will falter."

He straightened, his eyes burning with resolve. "When the next monsoon comes—when the Devas' power, weakened by the lack of prayers and yajnas, and the strength of the remaining bond of Svarga and Indra itself will start to wane—you will make your move. Capture Indra, and the power of not just Svarga and Patala but even the human world will be within your grasp. You can finally have your revenge on Indra and be King of Triloka."

Chapter Text

In the celestial city of Amravati, the Devas gathered in the grand palace, their laughter echoing through the halls. The banquet table was laden with food and drink, surrounded by goddesses who toasted and sipped on Soma wine, their voices mingling with the golden light that filled the space.

A brilliant flash of light appeared at the entrance, announcing the arrival of Sun God Surya. His golden sleeves shimmered as he entered, his radiance filling the room. He made his way to an empty seat, the light around him flickering like the sun at high noon.

Vayu, with a playful grin, raised his glass and called out, "Surya, what took you so long?"

Surya smiled, his posture straightening slightly, a gleam of warmth in his eyes. "Sanjna was worried about me, so I stayed with her for a while, until she finally drifted off to sleep. You see, I used to travel across the skies every day, brighten all corners of the world. But tonight, she asked me to stay. She couldn't help but worry about my safety. So, I thought it best to stay by her side for once and give her some comfort. Now, with her resting peacefully, I can finally enjoy this soma and relax, truly relax."

A chorus of laughter filled the hall, the Devas well aware of the deep love between Surya and his wife. Their relationship was the subject of many whispered tales in the divine realms.

Surya, now seated comfortably, lifted his glass and gestured toward the far end of the table, where Rahu sat with his serpent tail coiled elegantly behind him. "Rahu, a toast to you!" Surya said with a warm smile. "How are you adjusting to life here in Brahmaloka? Is it better than your time in Patalaloka?"

Rahu's grin widened, his mischievous eyes twinkling as he tilted his head back. "I'm getting quite accustomed to it—so much so that I almost forget what Patalaloka even feels like." His voice carried a playful note, and with a fluid motion, he raised his glass high. His serpent tail swirled around the wine goblet, moving with a grace that seemed almost hypnotic.

Soma, always the lively spirit of their gatherings, leaned in with a mischievous grin of his own and raised his glass. "Hahaha! The two nodes of the moon you control, Rahu, are indeed formidable. When they align, they swallow the light of both me and Surya. But do not worry, we'll regain our brilliance soon enough, as we always do."

Rahu's laugh echoed through the hall, wild and carefree. "Ah, Soma, don't fret! Even if I swallow your light, I'll spit it back out in no time. And if you ever need anything—whether it's a little chaos or a reminder of my power—just call on me! I am always ready for some mischief."

Surya and Soma exchanged amused glances, the camaraderie between them clear. With a shared chuckle, they raised their glasses in agreement, their voices in unison: "Cheers to that!"

The three Devas clinked their glasses, the sound ringing clear through the hall like the chime of a bell. They drank, and for a moment, the entire temple seemed to pause in a moment of divine luxury and revelry, the golden light of the Devas shimmering brighter than ever.

…

Kshira Sagara stretched out, its ethereal waters bordering the serene realm of Vaikuntha. In the heart of this sacred place, Vishnu lay on his divine bed, propped up on one elbow, his head resting gently in his hand. His eyes were closed, his breathing steady, as he drifted between the realms of sleep and meditation, lost in quiet contemplation.

But then—

A sudden shift.

His eyes snapped open, focused, piercing through the fabric of the cosmos. He stared intently into the human world.

The world below had fallen into unnatural darkness. The sun was absent, the moonlight extinguished, and the winds were eerily still. Sounds were muted as if the very essence of life had been swallowed whole. Fires refused to burn, and rivers lay stagnant, devoid of their usual flow.

For the Devas, Asuras, Rakshasas, and Yakshas, such disturbances were of little concern. Their power shielded them from the subtle ripples that troubled the mortal realm. But there were countless beings weaker than these, and for them, the world was growing perilous.

Vishnu's gaze shifted toward Svarga. There, a group of Asuras had built a lavish city, indulging in fine wines and sumptuous feasts, basking in the comfort of their ill-gotten paradise.

A heavy sigh escaped Vishnu's lips, a look of concern shadowing his usually serene face.

"Husband, are you sighing for Hiranyakashipu?" Goddess Lakshmi asked, her delicate voice full of tenderness, her eyes sparkling with curiosity.

Vishnu's expression grew troubled as he looked up at her.

"Hiranyakashipu has seized Svarga for himself," Vishnu replied gravely. "He has banned the humans from offering them Yajana and prayers to Devas and me. This could lead to catastrophe in the human world. Without their prayers the devas will grow weaker and weaker sooner or later they won't be able to do their duties. If we wait for him to fully rebel against the Dharma, the mortals may not survive long enough to see the end of it."

Lakshmi's brow furrowed, a glint of concern flashing in her eyes. "Who does Hiranyakashipu hate the most?"

Vishnu's reply was instant, almost reflexive. "Me, and Indra."

Lakshmi's eyes sparkled with a hint of mischief. "Then why not send other Devas to challenge him? After all, they have drunk the Amrita and are immortal. Let them try. Even if they can't defeat him, they can always retreat."

Vishnu chuckled softly at her suggestion, a warm smile forming on his lips. "Ah, then let's summon the Devas back."

He paused for a moment, his expression shifting to one of quiet confidence. "As for the divine power, the Devas lack at the moment... they reside in Brahmaloka. I'm certain that Brahma will offer them his help."

A tender smile graced the corners of Vishnu's mouth as his gaze softened, focusing on Lakshmi. Their eyes met, and for a moment, the entire cosmos seemed to pause in the warmth of their shared understanding.

Together, they smiled, a silent promise of what was to come.

Brahmaloka.

"Naryana Naryana~"

The sound of a deep, respectful bow echoed in the air as Narada Muni, the messenger sage, emerged from his meditation. His eyes flickered with curiosity as they darted from side to side, a mischievous glint dancing in their depths. A smile tugged at the corners of his chubby face as he considered the message that had just entered his mind.

During his meditation, he heard the voice of Lord Vishnu, clear and resonant, calling for his assistance.

"Lord, I would be happy to help you!" Narada Muni murmured with a grin, as though already anticipating the task before him.

With a flourish, he reached for the garland that hung around his neck and slowly rose to his feet. A burst of light swirled around him as he summoned his veena, the divine instrument appearing in his hands. His movements were deliberate and graceful, Narada Muni walked toward the temple where the Devas were gathered, preparing for their second round of celebration.

Within the temple.

The Devas, having just finished their first round of divine libations, were preparing for the second. As beings of immense power, they could drink as much as the oceans themselves. However, in Brahmaloka, even they were mindful of their limits—none of them dared to become intoxicated.

"Don't be in a rush—drink slowly!" Surya laughed heartily, his voice rich with mirth.

The temple was filled with an air of luxury and joy, the Gandharva musicians on either side playing their instruments in a harmonious symphony. The beautiful goddesses danced gracefully to the music, their movements so fluid and ethereal that they resembled peacocks with their wings spread wide, a vision of grace and beauty.

Ding ding ding~

Suddenly, the sound of a veena being played pierced the air. The music was jarring, out of place, and so harsh that it sent ripples of discomfort through the temple. The Devas winced and instinctively covered their ears as the delicate rhythm they had been enjoying was abruptly shattered.

"Narayana Naryana~"

Narada Muni, with his veena cradled in his arms, strode into the temple with his usual wide grin. The sound of his music was so discordant that even the usual serenity of Brahmaloka seemed to flinch.

The Devas turned in unison, their faces a mixture of surprise and confusion.

"By the gods… the sound is so harsh!"

Their eyes widened, and they stared at Narada Muni in disbelief. Despite carrying his veena every day, the sage's playing was notoriously off-key and unpleasant. How could someone with such divine instruments produce such a cacophony?

"Pranam Narada Muni!" Surya and the others clasped their hands together in greeting, bowing respectfully despite their discomfort.

"Pranam Devo!" Narada Muni returned the gesture, his hands joined in salutation. His gaze swept over the gathered beings, a playful smile tugging at his lips.

After a brief pause, he spoke with a gleam of purpose in his eyes. "I was meditating when I heard the will of Lord Vishnu. Hiranyakashipu has taken control of Svarga, and the human world is in peril. I have come to ask the Devas to take action and restore order to the mortal realm."

The atmosphere in the temple shifted instantly. The Devas, once full of laughter and merriment, now froze. Their expressions turned solemn as the weight of Narada Muni's words settled upon them.

The air grew heavy with unspoken thoughts, as they processed the gravity of the situation.

"This... us?!" Surya's face contorted in a bitter frown, and the light that usually radiated from his form dimmed. He subconsciously placed a hand on his lower back, where phantom pains lingered. The memory of his sacred chariot nearly torn apart by the fleeing Gandharvas surged back. His magical energy had been drained in that chaotic moment, and the sting of it still haunted him.

"I'm afraid we are no match for Hiranyakashipu," Surya murmured, his voice laced with concern.

Vayu, ever straightforward, nodded gravely. "The Devas haven't rested yet."

"We are also suffering from a lack of faith from the human world," Agni added, his tone heavy with weariness.

Water God Varuna spread his hands dramatically, leaning back against his throne, his expression mournful. "We're no match for him without the power of our divine faith. What do we do now?"

Narada Muni chuckled softly and waved a dismissive hand.

"Oh, the Lord only asked you to test your strength," he said, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "If Hiranyakashipu stops you, you can always retreat. If he doesn't, then you've fulfilled your duty."

The Devas fell silent for a moment, considering his words.

"Is that all?" Surya frowned, deep in thought. "But who will be the first to go? We can't all just sit here."

The Devas exchanged uneasy glances, unsure of how to proceed.

"The Lord didn't specify," Narada Muni said with a sly smile, his eyes sparkling with amusement. He tilted his head playfully and held his veena with one hand. "But among the Devas, there is one who stands above all—the King of Svarga, Indra."

His grin widened as he spoke. "Only his divine power and physical prowess can truly challenge Hiranyakashipu. He is the best candidate for the task."

The Devas stared at Narada Muni, their expressions shifting from confusion to realization. There was no denying the truth of his words.

Chapter Text

Narada Muni's voice was smooth and enchanting, his words dripping with sincerity as if every sentence he spoke held an undeniable truth. He smiled gently, his eyes flickering as they scanned the room, looking left and right. But there was one person he did not see.

"The King of Svarga is not here?" Narada Muni asked, his tone laced with curiosity.

Agni, deep in thought, replied, "The King of Svarga is preparing a counterattack plan to reclaim Svarga..."

Snap!

Narada Muni clapped his hands together, the sharp sound echoing through the temple. With a broad smile, he spread his hands in mock surprise. "A counterattack plan? Isn't that exactly what the Lord had in mind?" His eyes sparkled mischievously. "So, where is the King of Svarga?"

Without waiting for an answer, Narada Muni picked up his veena and, with a graceful motion, began to walk out of the temple, his steps light and purposeful. "Let's see if we can find him ourselves."

The Devas, momentarily stunned by his sudden action, followed suit. They abandoned their banquet, leaving the luxurious setting behind as they trailed Narada Muni through the city of Amravati, searching for the elusive Indra.

"He isn't here in Amravati or Indra's Palace!" Vayu called out as they searched, his voice sharp with urgency.

"Nothing in Swarga Mandapa either!" Agni added, his tone tinged with frustration as he scanned the surroundings.

Their search continued, but the King of Svarga remained elusive.

…

Narada Muni and the Devas searched relentlessly, their steps echoing through the vast halls of Amravati. Vayu, with his swift winds, surged ahead, sweeping through the palace like a powerful breeze. The air fluttered the shawls of the goddesses, rustled the leaves of precious trees, and carried a faint whisper as it passed by.

"Where is he?" Vayu muttered under his breath, his voice filled with concern. "Indra, where are you?"

He darted through the grand spaces, the search growing more frantic with each passing moment. Finally, as he reached Nandana Gardens, a familiar figure caught his eye beneath a pipal tree. His heart skipped a beat, his eyes widening in surprise. Vayu froze mid-air, his hands instinctively falling back as he stared, a mixture of awe and fear clouding his thoughts.

"The power of penance..." Vayu whispered, barely believing what he was witnessing.

Indra, the King of Svarga, lay beneath the Pipal tree, his arms resting behind his head in a posture of ease. His usual regal attire was replaced with simple, plain white robes, and a visible aura of ascetic power surrounded him. The very air seemed to hum with the strength of his penance. Vayu blinked, trying to reconcile the scene with his memories of the mighty King of Svarga. If he hadn't sensed the unmistakable divine power, he might have missed him altogether.

Indra is undergoing another penance...

Vayu clicked his tongue in disbelief. He knew what needed to be done. Turning on his heels, he sped back to find Narada Muni.

"Found him!" Vayu called out, his voice a mix of relief and frustration as he flew toward the sage and the Devas.

Narada Muni's eyes lit up at the news.

"Where is the King of Svarga?" he asked eagerly.

Vayu grinned mischievously, pointing in the direction of Nandana Gardens. "He's over there. Let's go."

The group, led by Vayu, soon arrived at the serene Nandana Garden. They walked toward the tranquil lake, the sight of the green pipal tree coming into view. And there, beneath its shade, lay Indra.

Narada Muni's smile faltered as he took in the sight before him. His eyes widened in disbelief. Indeed, it was the King of Svarga, but something was off. Narada Muni blinked, his gaze intense as he focused on the aura around Indra. The power of penance crackled around him, like thunder and lightning, confirming that the King of Svarga was deep in his ascetic practices.

Narada Muni exhaled slowly, his expression unreadable. This was not what he had expected to find.

"I heard Garuda mention that the King of Svarga was deep into his penance before, and now it seems that he is doing penance again," Narada Muni remarked, his voice tinged with amusement.

"But I'm afraid I won't be able to wake him up like this," he continued with a thoughtful frown.

As a bewitching messenger, Narada Muni had caused trouble for countless beings primarily through his love for spreading news, and gossip, and his charm, he had a method for dealing with ascetics. However, he wasn't one to get his hands dirty himself; he preferred to let others take part in the fun. Gently strumming his Veena, he rolled his eyes and then grinned, a mischievous glint in his gaze.

"How about this?" he proposed with a sly smile. "Why don't you gather a few Apsaras and have them dance around the King of Svarga? It just might awaken him."

Narada Muni's suggestion was met with silence. The graceful, captivating figures of the Apasaras were often the most tempting distractions for ascetics, known to interrupt their rigorous practices with their sheer allure.

But the Devas hesitated. Surya remained quiet, and Vayu turned his head away in discomfort. Agni and Varuna also fell silent, their eyes flicking uneasily toward the Pipal tree where Indra sat in deep meditation.

They all remembered the last time they had seen such a thing unfold. Garuda had been cursed just for disturbing Indra's penance.

Though the Devas were on good terms with their big brother, none of them wanted to risk incurring his wrath. The consequences of interrupting an ascetic's discipline were well-known, and the King of Svarga's fury would be something to dread.

Moreover, disturbing an ascetic's penance was a direct violation of dharma.

Even the devas of Svarga, who oversaw such practices, disapproved of it.

"This isn't a good idea," Surya finally spoke up, shaking his head in dismay. "Ascetics are sacred, and Indra is no exception."

Agni, too, chimed in, his voice filled with concern. "Indra might be focusing on his penance to find a way to defeat Hiranyakashipu. It would be best not to disturb him."

Vayu nodded in agreement, his gaze turning thoughtfully toward Indra beneath the Pipal tree. "That makes sense. We may not even stand a chance against Hiranyakashipu if we try to test him now."

"I agree," Vayu continued, deep in thought. "We don't necessarily need to confront the Hiranyakashipu ourselves. There's another solution."

He turned toward the Devas. "You see, the key is to run fast enough. Even if the Hiranyakashipu can't be defeated by us, there's someone who will not be harmed by him and can get our of a dangerous situation very easily. You don't even need to be a deva for that."

"Eh?" Surya raised an eyebrow, puzzled.

Varuna nodded slowly, catching the drift of Vayu's thoughts. "Oh, I see."

As realization dawned on the group, they began to nod in unison. There was indeed someone among them who was uniquely suited for such a task.

Swish, swish, swish!

In an instant, all eyes converged on Narada Muni. The Devas' gazes locked onto him, their focus sharp and unwavering.

Narada Muni, the divine messenger, held a unique power—he was cursed with no fixed abode, free to roam wherever he desired. He could travel effortlessly between the Svarga, the human world, and even the Patala itself. With such freedom, running away from Hiranyakashipu would be no challenge at all.

But even he was taken aback by what he now faced. The eyes of the Devas met him in the air—some were stunned, others surprised, while a few looked on with growing realization. The tension in the air thickened.

Narada Muni stepped back, holding his Veena close to his chest, instinctively inhaling a sharp breath. Something wasn't right. This wasn't how things were supposed to unfold.

"Narayana Narayana~," he muttered, forcing a smile onto his face as he quickly waved his hand in a dismissive gesture. "I think... this matter requires further consideration!"

The Devas, all observing him closely, were unmoved. Their eyes remained clear and steady as they clasped their hands together, bowing in reverence.

Surya stepped forward, his golden aura casting a radiant glow as he addressed Narada Muni, his voice filled with urgency. "Narada Muni, the Devas are in turmoil, and the human world teeters on the brink of destruction. We need your help and intervention. Only you can talk with Hiranyakashipu can come back alive."

Vayu, with a worried expression, added, "Narada Muni, your insight has always been the light in times of darkness. Please, help us now in our moment of need."

Agni, his flames flickering with intensity, spoke up as well. "The Triloka is on the edge, Narada Muni. Without your intervention, we fear it may slip beyond salvation."

Soma, ever earnest, nodded. "Indeed, Narada Muni, your presence can bring the balance back. The humans and Devas both need your help."

Amidst the chorus of respectful requests, the sky itself seemed to shift. The clouds swirled, and a divine, smiling face began to materialize in the ether.

The creator god—Brahma.

Brahma had already heard everything. He watched as Narada Muni's mischievous plan began to unravel, and his smile deepened.

"Narada!" Brahma's voice rang out, calm and steady. "Indra is deep in his penance. Do not disturb him!"

The Devas looked on with expectant eyes as Brahma continued, his tone both gentle and firm. "You are well aware of the mission entrusted to you from the preserver of the World. This task has been given to you, and it is your responsibility to investigate the Asuras. I trust you will not disappoint Vishnu's expectations. Go as a messenger to the Asura king he will not harm you as he is bound by his Dharma as a king."

Narada Muni, who was known for causing trouble, now found himself on the receiving end of it. Brahma's words were a reminder of the divine responsibilities he could not escape.

"Pranam Brahmadev!"

The Devas of wind, water, fire, and sun lifted their heads in unison, offering their devout Pranams to the shadow of Brahma that loomed above them. Their voices echoed with reverence, and Brahma's smile widened in satisfaction.

Narada Muni, however, had little cause for celebration. The Devas, though capable, could not match his mischievousness. Yet, at this moment, he was keenly aware that they had outsmarted him. Brahma's presence, his gentle rebuke, was proof enough.

"Yes, Father," Narada Muni responded stiffly, his shoulders sinking as he gave a half-hearted bow. "I understand."

For a fleeting moment, he wondered if he might just get away with it this time. But reality soon set in. Not only had Indra not been fooled, but Narada Muni himself had fallen into a trap set by these very Devas.

"I must return," he thought with a sigh. "Next time, I'll find a way around this."

But for now, he bowed once more, acknowledging his defeat with a wry grin.

Narada Muni wore a wry smile, his thoughts dancing with mischief. He shook his head, took a single step forward, and vanished into the Brahmaloka.

In the blink of an eye, his surroundings shifted. A flash of light filled his vision, and as it cleared, he was met with an unexpected sight.

A pair of cold, golden eyes locked onto his own, piercing through the very fabric of his being.

"!!!"

Narada Muni froze, his heart skipping a beat as the intensity of the gaze struck him like a bolt of lightning.

Chapter Text

"Who?!"

In an instant, a terrifying figure with golden eyes descended before Narada Muni. The air crackled with power as a large hand reached out, grabbing Narada Muni's wrist with a grip so firm it felt like a lock forged from the heavens themselves.

Hiranyakashipu!

Narada Muni's heart skipped a beat. The curse from Daksha had granted him the ability to move unhindered across realms, but if anyone laid a hand on him—if he left Svarga—the full force of Hiranyakashipu would be upon him.

In a flash, Hiranyakashipu's right hand shimmered, and a massive, black mace appeared, raised high, casting a terrifying shadow. The weight of its presence was overwhelming.

Narada Muni's heart raced his senses on high alert. His voice, though quivering slightly, carried the weight of urgency and a touch of fear. "Oh, Hiranyakashipu, please, do not act in haste!" he pleaded, his words almost choking him. "I am a Muni, a humble messenger of Svarga! If you strike me down, it would be as though you are committing the gravest of sins—slaying Brahman and the messenger in one stroke!"

He quickly summoned a kamandala in his left hand, the water of the sacred Ganges rippling violently within. With a swift motion, he reached into it, his fingers brushing the water—its holy power ready to spill out, capable of invoking a curse strong enough to protect him.

"Are you faster than me?" Hiranyakashipu's voice was cold and dripping with disdain.

Sages, Rishis, and Muni with all their ascetic power, were sacred, and killing one would be a heinous crime—a violation of the sacred law of Brahma himself. But to Hiranyakashipu, these laws meant little. He had already overthrown the Devas, banned their Yajanas, and made himself an enemy of the Devas. Killing a sage would hardly matter to him. What angered him more was the audacity of this Muni daring to enter his palace, showing no respect for his rule as the Lord of the Tri-Loka.

Hiranyakashipu's eyes narrowed, his expression icy. With a deadly calm, he prepared to bring the hammer down.

"Stop!"

A powerful voice rang out, sonorous and commanding, cutting through the tension in the air. The entire hall fell into a heavy silence.

Hiranyakashipu and Narada Muni stood frozen, their heads slowly turning as they squinted at Rishi Shukracharya, who walked into the room with measured steps.

"Put it down," Rishi Shukracharya's voice rang out, deep and commanding.

He glanced over, his gaze sharp as he noticed the mace still clutched in Hiranyakashipu's hand and the kamandla held by Narada Muni. With a disdainful snort, he raised his hands, which began to glow with a golden light.

Suddenly, a flash of movement—a blur of energy—and the scene shifted. In the blink of an eye, Rishi Shukracharya was holding a gleaming Chakra in his left hand, while a Kamandala appeared in his right. The sharp blade now faced Hiranyakashipu, while the kamandala was pointed directly at Narada Muni.

Something wasn't right.

Another flicker of golden light and the positions of the Chakra and Kamandala reversed. Now, a cold, gleaming blade rested ominously before Narada Muni, its sharp edge reflecting the light and sending a chill down his spine. Meanwhile, the spout of the kamandala was now aimed at Hiranyakashipu, with the Ganges water swirling dangerously inside, ready to unleash its curse.

"You put it down," Rishi Shukracharya repeated, his voice leaving no room for argument.

Under the intense pressure of this third party's power, both Hiranyakashipu and Narada Muni froze, their bodies stiff with tension. Hiranyakashipu's expression remained cold, but he slowly released Narada Muni's arm, his gaze lifting to meet the immortal's eyes.

Narada Muni exhaled sharply, a breath of relief escaping his lips.

"Narayana Narayana…" he began, his voice faltering as he moved to bow in respect.

But just as the words were about to leave his mouth, he paused, a thought crossing his mind. He quickly swallowed the rest of his sentence.

Rishi Shukracharya and the Asura King clearly held grudges against his Deva, Vishnu. To invoke Vishnu's name in their presence could be dangerous, even deadly. He suppressed the words, forcing a smile onto his face as he turned to Rishi Shukracharya.

"Rishi Shukracharya," Narada Muni began, trying to sound casual.

Rishi Shukracharya's eyes narrowed as he shot a cold glance in his direction. "Are you here on behalf of the Devas?" he asked bluntly.

Narada Muni's smile faltered for a moment, his eyes blinking in surprise.

"Well... that's it," he muttered quietly, realization dawning.

Rishi Shukracharya snorted coldly, his disdain evident. With a wave of his hand, the Chakra and Kamandala vanished, replaced by a long staff. He slammed it into the black stone floor of the main hall, the resounding thud echoing through the space.

"Hiranyakashipu and I have already discussed this," Rishi Shukracharya declared, his voice firm. "From now on, we will no longer interfere with the Devas fulfilling their duties. However, the Tri Loka still belongs to the Asuras. Yajnas to devas are prohibited, and the Devas have no right to interfere."

He paused, his cold gaze narrowing. "Of course, if the Devas refuse to obey the decree of the King of Triloka, then feel free to test it. But be warned—you will bear the consequences."

The words hung in the air as Narada Muni beamed with satisfaction. He had done nothing but stand by, and yet the task had been completed. He clasped his hands together and gave a respectful nod.

"I'll go speak with the Devas immediately," Narada Muni said, his surprise still evident on his face.

With a smile, Narada Muni turned, his feet light as he moved with quick, purposeful steps. As he stepped into the void, his voice lifted—half deliberate, half casual—calling out in reverence.

"Narayan Narayana~"

The words reverberated, their echo lingering in the temple like a soft, sacred hymn.

Hiranyakashipu and Shukracharya's expressions shifted dramatically. The pride they had felt moments ago, celebrating their success, quickly turned to disgust. The plan had just taken a turn they hadn't anticipated.

"Narada Muni!!!" they hissed in unison, the tension palpable in the air.

Meanwhile, Narada Muni smiled playfully, oblivious to the frustration that lingered behind him. He trotted quickly to Brahmaloka, the Veena cradled in his arms, eager to share the news with the Devas.

Upon his arrival, Narada Muni was met with the Devas' expectant eyes.

"Under my request, Hiranyakashipu and Asura Lord Shukracharya have agreed that the Devas can return to their duties," Narada Muni said, his smile wide. "But they still prohibit the acceptance of faith from Yajana."

The Devas exchanged skeptical glances, unsure of the new terms.

"Really?" Soma questioned.

"You can have Vayu test it out. There's no problem," Narada Muni offered with a wink.

Vayu, ever confident in his abilities, stepped forward. "I'll take it from here," he declared. "I'm the fastest among us, and I should handle this task."

With a swift motion, he summoned his mount, an antelope, and without hesitation, mounted it. He spurred it forward, and the wind god was off.

The breeze picked up, growing strong and intense, as the antelope galloped into the air. Vayu, the god of wind, had returned to the Tri Loka. The winds began to stir once more, the atmosphere itself alive with energy, as the world itself seemed to awaken to the change.

"Vayu!" Rishi Shukracharya's voice rang out through the celestial temple.

He stood with unwavering focus, his gaze fixed on the distant sky. "The next to appear should be the Sun God, Surya."

A moment later, the sound of galloping hooves echoed through the heavens, followed by the arrival of the sacred chariot. A flash of pale light—like the first streaks of dawn—spread across the Tri Loka. The soft glow of the morning sun pierced through the darkness, scattering the night's shadows, and the world slowly began to awaken to the light once more.

As the rays of dawn touched the earth, fire reignited across the land. Tiny flames sparked to life, spreading their warmth. The rivers, lakes, and seas began to churn once again, swelling with renewed energy.

This was a sign that Agni, the god of fire, and Varuna, the god of water, had also emerged.

"He's the only one left now," Rishi Shukracharya murmured, a note of finality in his voice.

"Indra!" Hiranyakashipu's voice dropped to a low, intense murmur. He stood proudly beside his teacher, Rishi Shukracharya, his fists clenched tightly, struggling to contain the boiling bloodlust within him.

Yet, even as his frustration grew, Hiranyakashipu remained still, a stone statue in Svarga, waiting... waiting for Indra. The sun god, Surya, and the moon god, Soma, had come and gone every day, yet Indra was nowhere to be seen.

"Nearly ten years have passed," Hiranyakashipu muttered, his voice edged with impatience.

He turned to Rishi Shukracharya, his expression sharp. "Teacher, you promised Indra would appear soon. Why hasn't he shown himself yet?"

Rishi Shukracharya's face remained calm, his gaze narrowing with a knowing smile. "Patience, my friend. Have you not noticed? The rainfall in the human world—its steady flow—is the work of the Wind God and the Water God working together. The mist rises from the lakes and the seas, does it not?"

He paused, his eyes glinting with wisdom. "If this continues, their powers will be stretched thin. Indra will emerge soon enough, I assure you."

Hiranyakashipu could feel the weight of Rishi Shukracharya's words, but his impatience was difficult to contain. Still, he said nothing, his anger simmering just below the surface.

Meanwhile, in the world of Brahma, the Devas gathered once again in the Nandana Garden, gathered around the sacred pipal tree. Their faces were drawn, weary from the endless waiting.

Vayu and Varuna stood at the front, their expressions grim. The divine light that usually emanated from them had dulled, and their once-radiant auras were now faint. The toll of their efforts was visible in their thinner forms, their weariness evident.

"The human world cannot afford to lose the blessing of rain," Vayu muttered under his breath, his voice heavy with concern. The world needed Indra, the Provider of Rain, more than ever.

Chapter Text

"Varuna and I have joined forces," Vayu said, his voice strained with frustration. "Although we can summon rainfall for a short period, it's still not enough. If this continues, our divine powers will soon be exhausted."

"Damn Hiranyakashipu!" he hissed through clenched teeth, his face tight with anger. His lips were dry, and his weariness was evident in the haggard lines of his face.

Varuna stood beside him, his blue robes faded and dull, his expression mirroring Vayu's bitterness. The two Devas looked as if they'd been worn down by the relentless struggle, standing side by side like two little birds in a storm.

The rest of the Devas fared slightly better, though their exhaustion was palpable. The Sun God, riding in his golden chariot, was still radiant, his body shielded by the divine sun armor, but even he seemed somewhat subdued.

Agni, the God of Fire, appeared particularly solemn. His hands moved slightly, conjuring a handful of sacrificial Agni that flickered brightly in his palms. The red light cast eerie shadows, reflecting brief glimpses of yajna rites happening in the human world.

In the fire's glow, visions materialized—first a cave, then a cellar, and then they disappeared as quickly as they had come. The sacrifices were fewer and more secretive, dwindling with time.

"The evil Asura Hiranyakashipu," Agni muttered bitterly, his voice laced with fury. "He forbids yajna for the Devas, and now the human world offers us fewer and fewer. It's a grave injustice."

He clenched his fist tightly, his eyes flashing with anger. "Hiranyakashipu's actions have desecrated the sacred tradition. Anyone who dares to pray or tries conduct yajna to the Devas in his presence, he kills them all without hesitation!"

The fire in his hands blazed brighter as the bitterness in his voice deepened.

"Hiranyakashipu's crimes are becoming viler as time passes on!" he continued. "He not only bans our prayers but forces us to work endlessly without the offerings due to us. We control the sun and the moon, the wind, and the fire, yet we cannot receive the gratitude of the human world. What world are we living in?"

The Devas stood in a collective silence, their hearts heavy with sorrow and frustration.

Just then, the sound of approaching footsteps broke the stillness—steady and calm, with a voice to match.

"Vayu and Varuna cannot bear the sole burden of bringing rainfall to ensure plentiful harvests and water for humans and all living beings. But there are other ways," came the measured voice of Rishi Brihaspati as he stepped into their midst, a knowing smile gracing his face.

"Pranam Teacher!" the Devas chorused in unison, their voices filled with reverence.

The Devas looked on in surprise, their hands clasped together in eager anticipation. Curiosity and hope filled their eyes as they turned toward Brihaspati, awaiting his words, which promised a new solution to their plight.

Rishi Brihaspati rose slightly, his posture graceful as he raised his hand with a deliberate, fluid motion. With a sweep of his fingers, he traced a circle in the air, pointing eastward with a knowing smile.

"Have you forgotten?" he asked softly, his tone carrying a hint of mischief.

"In the Nandana Gardens of Amravati, there are divine weapons belonging to the King of Svarga!"

At his words, a spark of realization flickered across the faces of the Devas. Brihaspati's smile deepened, his eyes gleaming with wisdom. The artifacts of the Devas, he reminded them, were vessels of their divine power. Among these treasures, Indra's weapons contained a tremendous amount of thunder and lightning energy. If they could secure one of these artifacts, their troubles could be swiftly resolved.

The Devas, understanding now, exchanged glances, a glimmer of hope igniting in their eyes.

"Of course!" Vayu exclaimed suddenly. "The Vṛṣṭi and Duṣkarṣa maces! They're in the Nandana Garden."

"Yes!" Varuna added, his voice filled with astonishment. "With those weapons, we won't have to drain our divine energy any longer."

The realization was like a breath of fresh air. With Indra's divine weapon in their possession, they would not only conserve their power but also have more time to enjoy the fruits of their labor.

"Thank you, Rishi, for your help!" the Devas chorused in unison, their voices brimming with gratitude.

Brihaspati nodded with a knowing smile, his eyes twinkling. "Let us go."

Without hesitation, the Devas stood, their spirits lifted by newfound hope, and they quickly followed Brihaspati as he led them toward the Nandana Gardens.

Streams of light descended from the heavens as they approached the Nandana Gardens, the sacred grounds now within their reach. The Gandharva warriors stationed at the entrance looked excited, their faces lighting up with reverence. They clasped their hands together and bowed low.

"Pranam to the Teacher Brihaspati! Pranam to the Suryadev! Pranam to the Agnidev! Pranam..." they greeted.

Brihaspati acknowledged them with a warm smile, and the Devas, their pride evident, walked with confidence toward the entrance of the temple. Vayu and Varuna, in particular, wore expressions of satisfaction, their steps long and sure as they entered the hallowed halls.

Inside the temple, the grandeur was breathtaking. The golden pillars gleamed with divine radiance, while the ceiling was adorned with lustrous pearls. Agate decorations added a touch of elegance to the space, and the soft glow of divine light made everything appear as if bathed in an ethereal mist. The black stone platforms, simple yet regal, stood in stark contrast to the brilliance of the surroundings, lending a unique air of mystery.

"I was the one who suggested rebuilding this place," Surya remarked with a proud smile. His voice carried the weight of history as he stepped forward, his gaze focused on one of the black platforms. "I remember clearly—Surya Chakra, forged from a spark of my divine essence, is here. And it can still be used."

Surya's eyes gleamed with pride as he walked towards the platform, his steps steady and assured. The Devas followed, their anticipation growing as they neared their goal.

Surya turned his gaze away, his expression faltering. For a brief moment, the smile on his face froze, transforming into a look of confusion.

"???"

He frowned, a series of question marks seemingly appearing above his head, his confusion deepening.

"Um?!"

The Devas and the worshiping immortals, who had gathered around, drew closer, their eyes scanning the surroundings. Upon closer inspection, they saw the empty stone platform before them.

"No! Where did it go?!" Surya exclaimed in disbelief, his voice thick with shock.

He hurried to the next stone platform, muttering to himself, "I remember this place—it should be where the Vṛṣṭi and Duṣkarṣa are kept."

The Devas watched in stunned silence as Surya continued his search.

Empty!

"Still empty?!" Surya exclaimed again, his tone rising with panic.

He moved quickly, trotting towards the platform where the divine spear, Amogha, and the conch Panchajanya were supposed to be. His heart sank as he looked in vain.

Empty! Empty! Empty!

Rishi Brihaspati's face darkened with concern. He hurriedly scanned the remaining stone platforms, his eyes growing wider with each empty space.

"They're all gone!" Brihaspati said, shock evident in his voice.

"Impossible! This can't be happening!" Surya shouted in disbelief. "These weapons and artifacts were placed here just recently!"

"How could they be gone?" Vayu's voice trembled with panic.

Brihaspati stood still, his mind racing. A thoughtful expression crossed his face as he raised a hand, signaling for the Devas to follow him.

"Let's move," he commanded firmly.

He led the group swiftly to the temple doors, his steps filled with urgency.

"Who has been here?" Brihaspati asked the Gandharva warrior stationed at the entrance.

The Gandharva warrior, his excitement palpable, stepped forward with a wide-eyed expression. "Rishivar! The King of Svarga has been here! He came through earlier!"

Indra?

The realization struck the Devas like a thunderclap. Could it be that the King of Svarga had taken all the artifacts?

The Devas exchanged uncertain glances, confusion, and tension hanging in the air. For a moment, they were paralyzed by the mystery.

The worshiping immortals remained silent, their expressions unreadable. Without a word, one of them turned and flew swiftly toward the Zalin Garden. The Devas, after a brief pause, hastened to follow.

They returned to the lush garden, landing softly on the green grass beneath the towering Bodhi tree. The weight of the situation pressed heavily on them as they gathered in silence.

"Teacher, what should we do now?" Vayu's voice cracked with frustration. "Varuna and I can't continue like this. We're running out of energy!"

Rishi Brihaspati, his brow furrowed in thought, hesitated before responding. He glanced at Indra, his confusion deepening.

"Does the King of Svarga not want us to help with the rain?" Brihaspati muttered, almost to himself.

"It shouldn't be," he continued, pondering the possibilities. "If the King of Svarga's penance continues to affect the world, Lord Vishnu may intervene."

A moment of silence passed, and then Brihaspati's voice grew softer, thoughtful. "Should we ask Kama, the God of Love, to interrupt the King of Svarga's penance with desire?"

Brihaspati's mutterings trailed off as he considered the implications of such an action. Would it come to that?

A sudden, cheerful trumpeting sound pierced the air, reaching Brihaspati's ears with surprising clarity. It was the distinct call of an elephant—yet it seemed more than just a simple noise. The sound reverberated through his mind, like the echo of an ancient, epoch-shifting cry, as though it carried the guidance of the Vedas themselves. Along with this mysterious, joyful sensation came a flood of thoughts, spiraling in a whirlwind of clarity. The ripples of insight seemed to converge into a single, undeniable point.

"I see!" Brihaspati exclaimed, his voice barely above a whisper as the realization struck him.

He froze for a moment, his mouth slightly agape, a look of awe spreading across his face. His mind raced as he turned abruptly, eyes locking onto the figure of a majestic white elephant with six tusks, spraying water into the lake not far from them.

"Airavata!" Brihaspati gasped, his voice filled with reverence.

The divine elephant, Airavata, was beloved by Indra, the King of Svarga.

A smile slowly spread across Brihaspati's face as the pieces of the puzzle fell into place. "Indra has left us a way… and the answer is here, with us!"

Chapter Text

The eyes of the Devas sparkled with awe, their attention drawn to the shimmering lake before them. Water sprayed gracefully from Airavata's mighty proboscis, cascading into the lake below. Each droplet reflected a kaleidoscope of colors, creating a dazzling Indradhanush that seemed almost otherworldly.

"Airavata!" Agni called out, their voice echoing with reverence.

Airavata let out a powerful, resonant trumpet, an exciting cry that reverberated across the landscape.

"Snow-white and flawless, majestic and proud~"

"The king of elephants, the Airavata~"

With a serene smile gracing his face, Rishi Brihaspati stepped forward, arms spread wide. A layered hymn poured forth from his lips, rich with melody and devotion, as he approached the magnificent creature.

Airavata tilted his massive head, his keen, intelligent eyes scanning the Devas curiously. A soft, questioning rumble escaped him, blending with the music in the air.

Thud! Thud!

The rhythmic sound of steps followed as Vayu and Varuna moved forward, their strides purposeful. Their voices joined the hymn, harmonizing in perfect unity.

"The mount of Indra, King of Svarga, unparalleled ruler of all beasts, clad in white~"
"Caller of storms, bringer of rain, conqueror of all~"
"Airavata~ Airavata!"

As the two Devas advanced side by side, divine light flashed in their hands. A shimmering golden shawl appeared, its surface glinting with celestial brilliance. With a graceful motion, they flung it into the air. The golden cloth floated gently before descending onto Airavata's broad, powerful back, cloaking him in regal splendor.

Surya and Agni stepped forward, their voices joining the growing chorus.

"What a majestic white elephant, drawing thunder and lightning with every step~"
"King of Elephants! Airavata~ Airavata!"

Surya raised his hands to the heavens, and beams of sunlight coalesced into a shower of golden marigolds. The flowers rained down in celebration, their petals glimmering like fragments of pure sunlight.

Agni, not to be outdone, conjured a burst of vibrant flames. The fire transformed into fine red powder, which swirled and danced in the air before settling like a veil over Airavata's form. The elephant's pristine white body now bore a brilliant blush of red, the colors blending harmoniously.

Yellow flowers bloomed and red powder fluttered through the air, creating a scene of unmatched beauty.

Ah-choo!

Airavata sneezed, curling his long trunk in a playful display, his mighty cry echoing once more. The Devas laughed in delight, their song swelling as they celebrated the king of elephants, the mount of their beloved Indra.

Rishi Brihaspati stepped lightly across the rippling surface of the lake, each step creating gentle waves that radiated outward. He approached Airavata with a serene expression, holding a jeweled gold circlet aloft in both hands. As he reached the majestic elephant, he carefully placed the ring upon Airavata's broad head and continued his hymn with unwavering devotion.

"The radiant light of Airavata brings forth clouds and rain," he sang, his voice resonating with divine energy.
"The roar of this sacred elephant shakes the skies, commanding the awe of all living beings. Born of the churning of the ocean of milk, the auspicious Airavata embodies wisdom beyond the reach of even three heads~"
"Airavata~"

The Devas joined in unison, their voices a harmonious chorus that filled the air.

"Airavata!!!"

Enraptured by the hymn of the Rishis and Devas, Airavata's spirit soared. His hind legs kicked with excitement, and he lifted his front legs high, his massive frame radiating power and grace. With a triumphant cry, he raised his head, trumpeting an earth-shaking call that sent water splashing in all directions.

"Airavata!" the Devas exclaimed joyfully, their faces alight with admiration.

As the hymn faded, the Devas gathered around Airavata, their expressions warm and encouraging.

"Airavata!" Surya said, stepping forward with a kind smile. "You are the embodiment of purity, nobility, and flawlessness—a symbol of the King of Svarga's power over clouds and rain."

Another Deva added, "We now face a daunting challenge, one only you can overcome."

"We have faith in you Airavata," said Rishi Brihaspati, his tone solemn yet reassuring.

Airavata tilted his massive head, flapping his great ears in contemplation. His large, intelligent eyes brimmed with curiosity and uncertainty. His rumbling voice seemed to echo in the air, carrying a note of doubt as he glanced at the gathered Devas.

But as the light of their encouragement surrounded him, the doubts in Airavata's heart began to waver.

…

Kailash.

Shiva sat in his eternal stillness, one foot resting on the ground and the other folded atop his knee, maintaining his meditative posture. His gaze was serene as he nodded slightly, acknowledging the distant efforts of the Adityas.

"The Devas have found their path," Shiva said, his voice a deep, resonant echo that carried the weight of the universe. "Indra can continue his penance."

As the guardian of ascetics, Lord Shiva's divine presence radiated a calm strength. It was said that those who harmed an ascetic risked invoking his fearsome wrath, a truth etched into the lore of the cosmos.

Standing nearby, Nandi, Shiva's loyal mount, watched his Lord with unshakable reverence. Yet, there was a flicker of curiosity on the sacred bull's face. His ears twitched slightly as he tilted his head, hands clasped together in an expression of devotion.

"Mahadev," Nandi began hesitantly, his voice filled with wonder, "Will Indra also undergo the trials of rigorous penance? He never seems to suffer the way ascetics do."

Shiva lowered his gaze to meet Nandi's questioning eyes. A soft smile played on his lips, as timeless and inscrutable as the mountain itself.

"Nandi," Shiva said, his voice gentle yet profound, "do you find joy in your dedication to me?"

"Of course, my Lord!" Nandi replied without hesitation, his voice ringing with sincerity.

Shiva's smile widened, a fleeting yet radiant gesture that seemed to hold the secrets of creation. He said nothing more, lowering his foot to the ground. Slowly, he stood, the movement graceful and unhurried, as if time itself bowed to his presence.

"It's time to gather flowers for Parvati," Shiva said with a light chuckle, his tone warm and tender.

With that, he stepped off the stone platform and began walking toward the lush groves of Kailash. Nandi remained behind, his expression contemplative as he watched his Lord depart. The question lingered in his mind, unanswered yet somehow comforting, a fragment of wisdom carried on the winds of Kailash.

...

Svarga

The realm of Svarga stretched out in magnificent splendor. Palaces adorned the landscape, each more resplendent than the last, and terraces formed in perfect symmetry sprawled like a divine tapestry. Towering spires, dark and square, pierced the heavens, their dim light casting long shadows across the sacred ground.

"Teacher!"

Hiranyakashipu's voice cut through the stillness, sharp and impatient. His brow furrowed deeply as he turned to face Rishi Shukracharya, frustration bubbling to the surface. "When do you think Indra will appear?"

His patience had worn thin, eroded by the relentless passage of years. Too much time had been wasted chasing Indra, and yet, he had not even glimpsed his foe.

Rishi Shukracharya, ever composed, met his student's ire with calm detachment. "What's the hurry?" he replied, his tone steady. "He will come soon."

Hiranyakashipu ground his teeth, suppressing his growing irritation. His fists clenched tightly, veins visible beneath his skin as he fought to rein in his temper.

Then, from the distant horizon, a dark cloud emerged. It churned and billowed, blotting out the light as fierce winds howled across the skies. Moist raindrops began to fall, soaking the earth below, heralding a presence of immense power.

"He's coming!" Rishi Shukracharya's eyes narrowed, his voice cold and calculating. "Indra is finally here."

"Indra!" Hiranyakashipu hissed, his golden, slitted eyes gleaming with anticipation as he covered his face with his hands. The faint tremor in his voice betrayed a joy akin to that of a farmer awaiting a bountiful harvest.

THOOM! A thunderous roar broke through the storm, reverberating across Svarga.

"That sound—it's Indra's mount!" Shukracharya said, his voice sharp with certainty.

Ecstasy surged through Hiranyakashipu. His fingers flexed and uncurled as visions of triumph danced in his mind. He thought of how he would crush Indra, forcing the King of Svarga to kneel before him.

The dark clouds thickened, crackling with divine energy. And then, a flash of white illuminated the heavens.

"He's here!" Hiranyakashipu's voice was a low growl, his eyes wide with anticipation.

From the swirling storm emerged a colossal figure—a three-headed Airavata, its majestic form shimmering with celestial brilliance. Its heads were adorned with intricate golden chains, and its vast body was draped in flowing divine satin. Massive legs, sturdy as mountains, were encircled with golden anklets that jingled as they moved.

"Airavata alone?" Hiranyakashipu muttered, his excitement faltering as he frowned. His gaze swept the surroundings, his divine energy probing for the unmistakable aura of Indra.

But there was nothing.

"No... This can't be," he murmured, his voice laced with disbelief. "Where is Indra?" His frustration ignited into searing anger, a fire that blazed within his chest. His gaze locked onto the three-headed Airavata, watching as the divine beast descended toward the mortal world.

With effortless grace, Airavata extended its trunk, spraying water like a living fountain. The droplets shimmered as they fell, transforming akin to Amrita, the nectar of immortality, blessing humanity below with much-needed rain.

Then, as though satisfied with its work, Airavata turned and ascended once more, vanishing into the black clouds that had birthed it.

Hiranyakashipu stood rooted to the spot, his fists trembling at his sides. Fury consumed him, his rage an unquenchable inferno. "Indra..." he growled, his voice low and venomous. "Why aren't you here?"

The skies offered no answer, only the faint echoes of Airavata's departure lingering in the wind.

"What a clever King," Rishi Shukracharya remarked, his voice calm yet tinged with an undertone of respect. His eyes narrowed as he spoke. "I'm afraid he has already guessed that we're waiting for him. This Airavata—it's the bait he's dangled before us, a calculated temptation."

Hiranyakashipu's rage boiled over. His teeth clenched so tightly it seemed as if they might grind the heavens and earth together, producing a harsh, grating sound. The thought of Indra's cunning filled him with a burning desire to rip the King of Svarga apart.

"So treacherous!" he spat, his words laced with venom. "What do we do now, Teacher?"

Rishi Shukracharya remained unflustered. Turning slowly, he fixed his student with a steady gaze. "I'm afraid we have no choice but to wait," he replied in a deep, measured tone.

"Wait?"

Hiranyakashipu's face darkened further. The very idea seemed to weigh on him like a storm cloud. His fists trembled with barely contained fury as he hissed through gritted teeth.

"Then wait, we shall!" His voice rose, fierce and unrelenting. "If he makes me wait for five hundred years, I will wait for five hundred years! If it takes a thousand years, I will endure a thousand years! And if he dares to make me wait for ten thousand years, I will wait for ten thousand years! Indra!"

He bellowed the name as if it had become a sacred chant, his obsession etched into every syllable. "Indra!" The word tore from his throat, echoing with a ferocity that shook the air.

Rishi Shukracharya observed his disciple with a furrowed brow. Most would dismiss Hiranyakashipu's claims as mere hyperbole, but the wise sage knew better. Hiranyakashipu was not like most men.

The stubbornness that defined him was both his strength and his curse. Once he set his sights on something, no force in the cosmos could deter him. His determination was as unyielding as the mountains themselves.

"Alas," Shukracharya sighed, a shadow of pity crossing his usually impassive face. "I only hope you can endure this wait."

With those parting words, the sage turned and walked away, his steps measured and deliberate. In his heart, he carried a gnawing concern—Hiranyakashipu's obstinate nature would not lead him to a peaceful end.

Yet Hiranyakashipu heard none of it. He remained rooted to the spot, his fiery gaze fixed on the horizon. The storm within him raged on, his singular purpose consuming him utterly.

He would wait. No matter how long it took, no matter the toll it exacted, Hiranyakashipu would stand steadfast, his eyes burning with the promise of vengeance. Until the day Indra appeared, he would do nothing else.

For Hiranyakashipu, waiting was not a delay—it was a declaration of his unbreakable will.

Time flies like the wind, indifferent to mortal concerns. The sun and moon rose in the east and set in the west, marking the passing of days that stretched into years. In the blink of an eye, three hundred years had passed.

The place where Hiranyakashipu once stood had transformed into a towering high platform. Draped from the canopy above were cascading curtains of pearl and gold, shimmering like captured sunlight. At the center, a grand golden throne stood resplendent. On either side, Asura women wielded delicate peacock feather fans, their movements gentle and rhythmic as they attended the sovereign seated above them.

Hiranyakashipu reclined on his throne, his powerful hands gripping its gilded arms. His golden, vertical eyes remained fixed on the sky above, unblinking, unwavering. He was waiting, like a hunter poised in silence, patient yet deadly.

For over three hundred years, Hiranyakashipu had barely left this spot. His palace, his kingdom, even his family—his wife, his son—all were distant echoes, secondary to the singular purpose that consumed him. He lived only for one thing: to see Indra again and exact his vengeance.

But today, an unexpected disturbance broke the monotonous passage of time.

"Rajan!"

A voice pierced the serene stillness. An Asura soldier hurried up the steps of the high platform, his armor glinting dully in the ambient light.

"Speak quickly!" Hiranyakashipu growled, his eyes never leaving the skies.

"An ill-omened report, my lord. Someone is offering yajanas for Devas and Vishnu!"

Hiranyakashipu waved his hand dismissively, irritation flickering across his face. "If someone dares to perform such trivial acts, kill them and be done with it. Do not waste my time!"

The soldier hesitated, shifting uncomfortably under his lord's gaze.

"But... it is the prince, my lord. It is Prahlada, your son."

At that name, Hiranyakashipu froze. Slowly, his gaze dropped from the skies, a dangerous light gleaming in his eyes. His focus turned to the soldier, the air around him seeming to thrum with a foreboding energy.

"What did you say?" His voice was low and menacing, like the growl of a beast lurking beneath the earth.

The Asura soldier visibly trembled, struggling to meet Hiranyakashipu's gaze. "Y-yes, my lord. The prince... the prince is offering yajanas and singing hymns."

"To whom?"

Hiranyakashipu's question was a command, sharp and cold as the edge of a blade. The soldier's knees buckled slightly under the weight of his king's fury.

"To... Indra and Vishnu," the soldier stammered, the words barely escaping his trembling lips.

The air around Hiranyakashipu seemed to darken. A terrible silence fell, broken only by the faint rustling of the pearl-gold curtains swaying in the breeze.

"Vishnu..." Hiranyakashipu hissed, his voice dripping with venom. His grip tightened on the arms of his throne, the golden metal groaning under the pressure.

---

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Chapter Text

"Out of all devas he could worship. It turned out to be... them!"

Hiranyakashipu rose from his golden throne, his presence exuding an overwhelming and terrifying force. A sudden gale erupted around him, sending the Asura maids sprawling as they scrambled to avoid the tempest.

"Indra! Vishnu!"

The names hissed through his clenched teeth, his voice hoarse and raw with fury. His entire body trembled, vibrating with the storm of his rage. The words carried more than anger—they were a curse, spat from the depths of his being.

Betrayal.

This act of treachery struck him like a poisoned blade. Prahlada, his flesh and blood, daring to worship his mortal enemies.

"Prahlada!!!"

His roar shook the Svarga and the patala, the force of it sending violent shockwaves rippling outward. The echo reverberated across Svarga, a testament to his fury.

Without hesitation, Hiranyakashipu launched himself into the air, streaking across the sky like a meteor. His trajectory was unerring, his wrath a guiding force as he plummeted toward the palace below.

Boom!

The impact rattled the structure to its core, the foundations groaning under the force. Dust billowed in choking clouds as debris rained down like an apocalyptic storm.

Through the settling haze of destruction, Hiranyakashipu emerged. His towering form cast a menacing shadow across the ruined palace, his glowing eyes locked onto the figure seated amidst the rubble.

Prahlada.

The young prince, adorned in regal red garments and a golden crown, sat cross-legged before a blazing sacrificial fire. The flickering flames danced in his serene expression, their light casting an almost divine glow on his face.

"Om Indra Devaya Namah!"

Prahlada's voice was calm, reverent. A gentle smile curved his lips as he clasped his hands in prayer. He took a handful of red pollen from a mound beside him and scattered it over the sacred flames, the embers flaring in response.

Hiranyakashipu froze. His eyes widened, his body rigid with disbelief. Slowly, his fists tightened until his knuckles turned white.

"Prahlada..." His voice was barely above a whisper, strained with suppressed rage.

At the sound of his father's voice, Prahlada turned, his face lighting up with unrestrained joy. His clear eyes sparkled with excitement, unclouded by fear.

"Father, you're back!"

Prahlada sprang to his feet, his movements light and eager. He trotted toward Hiranyakashipu with open arms, his expression brimming with happiness.

But Hiranyakashipu's gaze was cold and unyielding. His piercing eyes roved over Prahlada's form, scrutinizing every inch of him as if searching for the source of this betrayal.

"Who are you..." Hiranyakashipu's voice was low and deliberate, every word weighted with accusation. His fists clenched tighter as his body tensed, his rage barely contained.

"Are you..." His voice rose, sharp as a blade.

"…a devote of Indra?"

His question hung in the air, heavy with menace. Hiranyakashipu's fiery gaze bore into Prahlada, demanding an answer, his towering presence a storm ready to unleash its fury.

"Of course not!"

Prahlada's smile was radiant as he shook his head, his joy unshaken by the tension in the air. His clear eyes, full of warmth, met his father's cold gaze.

Hiranyakashipu froze, startled. Not a follower of Indra? The revelation struck him momentarily silent. If not, then why perform yajanas to Indra? The contradiction gnawed at his mind.

Before he could voice his confusion, Prahlada clasped his hands together in reverence. His voice was soft yet unwavering, carrying the sincerity of his heart.

"I am a believer of Lord Vishnu," he began, his tone light but resolute. "I made offerings to the King of Svarga because, Father, you've been away from home for so long."

Hiranyakashipu's brows furrowed further, the flicker of confusion replaced by growing irritation.

"Father, I hoped," Prahlada continued, his expression untainted by fear, "that you might let go of your hatred for Indra, and that the two of you could reconcile. If peace could be made, it wouldn't matter if we left Svarga behind. We would live just as well on Patalaloka."

His voice softened, his eyes bright with hope. "Then you could come home. We could be together again as a family."

Prahlada spread his hands, the simple, unguarded gesture embodying his dream of peace.

"Father!" he said, his voice trembling slightly with anticipation. "If you come back now, my yajana should already have reached the ears of the King of Svarga. Have you reconciled?"

With that, Prahlada stepped forward, his arms outstretched as though to grasp the father he idolized.

Boom!

A powerful hand slammed into Prahlada's chest, sending him staggering backward. The force of the blow knocked him to the ground, his back hitting the cold stone with a dull thud.

Prahlada gasped, propping himself up on his elbows as he stared at his father in shock and confusion.

Hiranyakashipu loomed above him, his face devoid of emotion, an imposing figure bathed in the flickering light of the sacrificial fire. His golden crown cast a shadow over his stern, unyielding expression.

"Stupid," he spat, his voice cutting like a blade. "Weak!"

His cold eyes bore into Prahlada's trembling form.

"You dare pray to my enemies? You plead for mercy as though it were something to be given freely. Are you truly my son? I am ashamed to call you that."

The words struck like blows, each syllable laced with disdain.

"Guards!" Hiranyakashipu barked, his voice echoing through the shattered palace.

"As you command, my king!" came the hurried response as the sound of armored feet rushed toward them.

"Take him," Hiranyakashipu ordered, his tone as unyielding as stone. "Lock him away for five hundred years. Let him sit in solitude and reflect on his foolishness. Perhaps he will come to understand the weight of his actions."

Prahlada's eyes widened in disbelief, his lips parting to plead, but no words came.

Hiranyakashipu turned away without sparing him another glance. His expression remained void of any paternal warmth as he strode out of the palace. The weight of his responsibilities—and his hatred—left no room for what he considered petty, sentimental distractions.

Behind him, the Asura warriors seized Prahlada, their iron grips dragging him away as he called out, "Father!"

But Hiranyakashipu's ears were deaf to the cries. He had more pressing matters: a war with the devas, and vengeance to secure.

Time passed, indifferent to rain or shine. Through the endless days and nights, Hiranyakashipu endured.

Seated on his golden throne, a sword resting at his side, he sprawled lazily, his left elbow propped on the armrest. His chin rested in his palm as he stared into the vast expanse of sky before him.

Another peaceful day...

After all these years, why has the power of the Devas not waned?

Hiranyakashipu's thoughts darkened, the question lingering in his mind. Is Brahma secretly aiding the Devas?

He rolled his eyes in frustration, feeling the weight of his long war against the devas. Slowly, he rose from the throne, the joints in his neck cracking as he twisted his head from side to side.

And then, a sudden flash of light streaked across the sky, heading straight for him.

"!!!"

Hiranyakashipu's pulse quickened, his senses sharpening. He stood up abruptly, his hand gripping the hilt of his sword, eyes narrowed in anticipation.

But as the figure drew closer, a flicker of disappointment flashed across his features.

The approaching figure wore a black hood, obscuring their face, but their slender form was unmistakable—a far cry from Indra's imposing presence.

Not Indra, Hiranyakashipu thought, his grip on the sword loosening.

"Big brother, it's me!" The figure landed lightly on the high platform, the voice familiar and unmistakable.

"Holika!" Hiranyakashipu's voice echoed in recognition as he stepped forward.

Holika slowly lifted her black hood, revealing a face both smooth and radiant, her beauty now far beyond what it had been before. Gone were the scars, the marks of past suffering.

Her face shone with an ethereal glow—beautiful, yes, but with an alluring, almost mesmerizing quality that spoke of her transformation.

"You've completed your penance?" Hiranyakashipu asked, his voice laced with curiosity.

He had heard from Shukracharya that Holika had dedicated herself to an intense period of penance, praying to Lord Shiva since the churning of the Kshira Sagara, hoping for divine blessings to restore her appearance.

It was clear now that she had succeeded.

"Of course!" Holika's lips curled into a sly smile as she gently ran her fingers over her flawless skin, her pride unmistakable.

She reveled in her newfound beauty, the result of her devotion. She had once been scarred by the flames of Vasuki, her face burned beyond recognition. But now, through years of penance and divine blessings, Holika had restored her beauty to its full glory.

"Correct!"

Holika's voice broke through the air as she stepped forward, her tone light but tinged with mischief. "Brother, why do I hear the sounds of Vishnu's hymns in your palace? Have you forgotten your elder brother's revenge?"

Hiranyakashipu froze. His eyes narrowed, and the fire of anger ignited within him. He turned to his attendants, his gaze darkening with fury.

"Who is worshipping Vishnu?" His voice was like thunder, and his attendants flinched, exchanging nervous glances before lowering their heads.

"Answer me!" Hiranyakashipu demanded, his voice low and dangerous.

The Asura guards, visibly trembling, knelt before him, fear evident in their eyes.

"The prince... is still praying to Vishnu," one of the guards stammered, his voice quivering. "He has organized yajanas daily in the palace—unceasing prayers to Vishnu, without rest."

Hiranyakashipu's eyes widened with rage. He seized one of the Asura guards by the head, lifting him off the ground, his grip like iron.

"Didn't I throw him into prison?!" His voice was a low growl of fury.

The attendant recoiled, his voice quivering with fear. "King... have you forgotten? You've been away for nearly seven hundred years. The prince has long since been released."

A wave of shock washed over Hiranyakashipu, followed by an overwhelming tide of anger. He shoved the guard aside.

"Prahlada!" he roared. "You won't change your mind, will you? Damn it all!"

Holika, observing the scene with amusement, couldn't suppress a soft laugh. She raised her fingers to her lips, hiding her smile behind them as she spoke with playful sweetness, "It seems your son doesn't listen to you brother."

She paused for a moment, her expression turning more serious, though still with a hint of amusement in her eyes. "But don't worry brother. I can help you."

Holika's smile widened, a knowing glint in her eyes.

"How?" Hiranyakashipu suddenly turned his head, his sharp gaze locking onto Holika. "Explain!"

His voice was cold, demanding answers.

A flash of cold light flickered in Holika's eyes. She raised her chin high, her fingers curling around the air as she spoke. A flicker of fire ignited at her fingertips, its flames dancing with a fierce intensity.

"This is the Naga agni of Vasuki," she said, her voice low and steady. "I gathered it after I was disfigured during Samundra Manthan. Even this can't harm me now. I am granted the ability to not be harmed by fire."

Her eyes glinted with pride. "Through years of hard penance, I received a blessing—this veil shields me from the flames. I entered the fire with him, to see if his Vishnu could offer any help in the face of life and death."

Holika's words hung in the air, carrying the weight of her determination and the power she had mastered.

---

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Near the grand Asura king's palace, a fire pit blazed at its center, the flames of Vasuki, the Naga King, casting a fierce scarlet glow that illuminated the faces of Hiranyakashipu and Holika. The air shimmered with heat, radiating in oppressive waves, making it nearly unbearable.

Prahlada was flanked by a group of Asura warriors and brought into the grounds. The moment they entered, the suffocating heat hit them like a wave. Sweat streamed down their faces, and their breathing grew labored. Their bodies instinctively recoiled from the burning intensity of the flames.

Hiranyakashipu stood with his hands firmly planted on his waist, glaring at his son.

"Prahlada," he said, his voice cold as ice, "I give you one final chance. Never offer a single prayer to Vishnu again."

His eyes narrowed, filled with a merciless resolve. "If you forsake him, you can still be my son, the prince of Asuras."

He raised a hand and pointed at Prahlada with detached finality. There would be no place for Vishnu in his kingdom, and certainly not in his bloodline.

"Father!" Prahlada's voice rang out, filled with unwavering devotion. "The Lord is in all things. He is the sky, the ocean, the forest, the earth. He is everywhere. Every thought, every word, every deed we perform is a prayer to Him."

He smiled, the depth of his faith shining through his eyes. "I am His, and I will not forsake Him."

Hiranyakashipu's lips twisted into a bitter, mocking smile. "Heh. Let's see how far your faith will take you."

He turned toward Holika, his voice a thunderous command. "Holika!"

Holika, her expression as cold as ice, stepped forward with a sneer. Dressed in her divine veil, her eyes gleamed with malice.

"This is the flame of Vasuki," she said, her voice dripping with disdain. "It can burn everything to ashes. I will enter the flames with you. If you can withstand them, if you are truly protected by your god, I will reconsider my stance. But if your god cannot save you, neither will we."

Her words were laced with venom, each syllable carrying the weight of her hatred.

Holika's hatred for Vasuki, the naga that had once disfigured her beautiful face, burned as fiercely as the flames surrounding them. And with that, her disdain for Vishnu and his followers only grew. The churning of Kshira Sagara had nearly cost her life; the time for retribution was now.

"Good!"

Prahlada nodded solemnly. His eyes, clear and unwavering, shone with conviction. He clasped his hands together in prayer and, with a calm resolve, walked slowly into the searing flames, chanting a prayer to Vishnu as he did.

Holika, standing by his side, sneered. She adjusted her hood with both hands and stepped into the inferno alongside him.

Now, it was time to test the power of her blessing.

Boom!

The flames of Vasuki roared to life, their heat intense enough to scorch the very air around them. The fire reached out hungrily, licking at Prahlada's bare feet, the flames leaving trails of burning scars in their wake. Yet, despite the pain, Prahlada's expression remained calm, his face an unwavering mask of serenity.

He continued forward, undeterred, until he reached the heart of the flames. There, he sat cross-legged, as if he were meditating in a peaceful palace, the fire surrounding him but never touching his soul.

Holika, her resolve unshaken, smiled to herself. With her veil securely in place and the blessing of protection upon her, she too sat in the heart of the flames, untouched by their fury.

The heat that scorched everything else was nothing to her. It felt almost like home. The flames? They didn't bother her at all.

…

The Vaikuntha lay adjacent to Kshira Sagara, a realm of serenity and divine presence. Vishnu, the protector of the world, rested on his side upon his snake bed. His wife, Lakshmi, sat beside him, gently massaging his calves with tender care. Their eyes met, and in that shared gaze, a silent love spoke volumes.

Suddenly, Vishnu turned his head ever so slightly, his smile fading as his gaze fixed upon the human world.

"Husband, what is it that occupies your thoughts?" Lakshmi inquired softly.

Vishnu's expression became solemn. "The karma of Hiranyakashipu has ripened, and the time of the Asuras' dominion is coming to an end. The cycle is complete, and it is now time for the final act of Lila to unfold"

He gently tapped the snake bed beneath him. With a subtle twist of his finger, a ray of golden light shot forth, directed toward the figure of Prahlada, who lingered in Vishnu's vision.

Meanwhile, in the palace below, Hiranyakashipu's cruel laughter echoed through the chambers.

Prahlada, caught in the merciless blaze of the snake fire, writhed in agony. His skin, scorched black, glowed with a fiery red hue, like smoldering embers. His flesh burned, and it seemed as though he would soon be consumed by the flames.

"Hahaha!" Hiranyakashipu laughed, his voice dripping with malice. "Son, look at you now. Your gods cannot protect you! If you renounce your faith, I will spare you. I, your father, will forgive you!" He laughed again, louder this time, savoring the moment.

A surge of victory swelled in his chest. He had defeated his son, broken his faith, and soon, he would have crushed Vishnu, the protector of the world.

But if Prahlada refused to relent...

Hiranyakashipu was ready to end his disobedient son's life.

"No!" Prahlada's voice rang out, strong despite his suffering.

Boom!

An explosion of light cut through the air, interrupting Hiranyakashipu's triumphant laughter.

"What?!" Hiranyakashipu gasped, his gaze snapping down to where Prahlada sat.

Golden rays poured from Prahlada's body, and in an instant, the blackened scars on her skin began to crumble away, as though the golden light was slicing through them like scissors. The fiery darkness that had engulfed him evaporated into ash, revealing flawless skin beneath.

But then, the golden light flickered and flared. It swept across Holika's veil, tearing through it with force, sending the fabric into countless shards that exploded into the air. The blessing was gone. The protection had failed.

Holika's eyes widened in horror.

"Impossible!" she screamed, her voice filled with disbelief.

The flames in her eyes flared once more, transforming into a host of serpents, their tongues flickering and their teeth bared. They rushed toward her, consuming her in a furious blaze, and with a final, ear-splitting roar, they reduced her to nothing but ash.

"Holika!"

Hiranyakashipu's voice thundered as he watched the fire rage even fiercer. He rushed forward, but as he passed through the flames, he felt nothing—only the empty weight of his hands, now covered in blackened ashes.

The flame flickered and died, its fiery embrace extinguished.

"Father..." Prahlada's voice was soft, tinged with sadness as he stood slowly, facing the man who had once been his father. There were no words to exchange.

His father had truly tried to kill him.

Boom!

Hiranyakashipu spun around suddenly, his body trembling with fury, his movements like a wild beast driven mad. His anger reached an unbearable peak.

His golden eyes flashed with bloodlust. His teeth ground together, his fists clenched so tightly that the air around him seemed to vibrate with the pressure.

"Vishnu!" he roared. "You dare mock me? Damn you! Damn you all!"

His eyes, now a deep crimson, burned with hatred as he glared at his son.

A mace materialized in his hand, dark and powerful. With a furious swing, he pointed it at Prahlada, the force of the wind swirling around it.

"You say Vishnu is omnipotent? Call upon your god! Let him use his divine power to bring Indra here! Bring him here!"

"Vishnu, Indra!" Hiranyakashipu's voice shook the very heavens. "I will kill them both today! I swear it! I will kill them!"

His roar echoed across the realms, rattling the Svargas and the earth beneath. The very air seemed to tremble with the violent force of his rage.

"Father," Prahlada's voice was calm but filled with sorrow. "Your anger blinds you. You cannot harm the divine, nor can you break my faith in Lord Vishnu. It is not too late for you to turn away from this path of hatred."

Hiranyakashipu's eyes darkened with an even deeper malice. "If you do not call him here, I will kill your mother."

Prahlada's gaze did not waver. "Lord Vishnu is everywhere. If you seek him, he will appear when the time is right. My faith protects all who are dear to me. Do as you will, Father. I fear nothing, for he is with me."

Hiranyakashipu's words were devoid of any warmth, his tone flat and cold. "Quickly!"

Prahlada shuddered under the weight of his father's threat. His eyes were wide, not just with fear, but with the recognition that his father—this monster before him—had truly lost his mind.

Could it be that his father would go so far?

"Good..." Prahlada's voice was shaky, the words barely escaping his lips. Slowly, he clasped his hands together, preparing to invoke the gods, torn between his love for his mother and the desperate hope that somehow, peace could still be found.

…

In the divine realm of Brahma, within the city of Amravati, Airavata lay submerged in the lake, his massive head lowered as though trying to hide from the world like an ostrich. The great elephant was completely still, as though paralyzed by a deep sense of reluctance. Surrounding him were the revered Rishi Brihaspati and the Devas, their eyes filled with concern.

"Airavata!"

Rishi Brihaspati's voice broke the silence, stern but gentle. "It's your turn. The human world needs you!"

The mighty elephant let out a faint, sorrowful sound but did not respond.

Vayu, ever energetic, squatted at the water's edge, his voice teasing but firm. "Holy Airavata, you are still so young! How can you be so lazy now?"

With a sudden ripple, the surface of the lake stirred, and from beneath the water, the slender trunk of Airavata emerged. He let out a long, drawn-out cry, filled with grievance.

At the sound, Varuna, the god of the oceans, shook his head, his expression both bemused and concerned.

"Being a god isn't meant to be tiring," Varuna said, spreading his hands wide in an attempt to comfort the great beast. "You're not just taking the place of the King of Svarga. Think of how honored you are—how respected! We look up to you as much as we do to Indra, our King of Svarga!"

Airavata's six tusks gleamed in the sunlight as he let out a deep, frustrated roar. The Devas' words seemed to have no effect. Without so much as a glance in their direction, he dove back into the lake with a final splash, leaving the gods helpless and dismayed.

"The Airavata has used all his energy!" Surya exclaimed, his voice filled with confusion. "What do we do now?"

Surya's gaze turned to Rishi Brihaspati, seeking direction.

Rishi Brihaspati paused for a moment, his eyes narrowing in thought. Then, with a firm nod, he made a decision.

"We can only wake up Indra now." He turned to Vayu, a spark of determination in his voice. "Vayu, go summon the three most beautiful Apsaras. I'll handle the rest."

Vayu's eyes lit up with excitement at the challenge.

"Good!" he exclaimed, already turning to fulfill his task.

---

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"Surya, just to be sure, summon Kama, the God of Love and desire!" Rishi Brihaspati instructed, his tone filled with urgency.

Kama, the God of Love. The embodiment of desire, pleasure, and beauty. If even the Apsaras of Svarga couldn't awaken Indra from his meditative state, then Kama's divine arrow, the arrow of love, would surely do the trick. With the arrow of love aimed at Indra's heart, the King of Svarga would naturally break free from his penance.

"Understood! I'll go summon Kama right away!" Surya responded, his voice resolute. With that, he drove his sun chariot off toward the task.

Soon, the air shimmered as a group gathered once again, this time accompanied by the three most beautiful Apsaras. They moved gracefully across the grassy expanse, their snow-white feet barely touching the ground.

The goddess on the left was petite, her skin as radiant and soft as freshly churned milk. Her delicate features glowed with innocence, yet her large, sorrowful eyes seemed to hold a quiet melancholy that stirred a desire to shield her from harm. This was Menaka, known for her unmatched charm and the ability to ensnare even the most steadfast hearts.

The goddess on the right was tall and statuesque, her every movement exuding an alluring elegance. Her wheat-gold complexion shimmered under the divine light, and her cascading dark hair framed a face of unparalleled beauty, accentuated by lips as red and inviting as freshly bloomed hibiscus. This was Rambha, the embodiment of sensual allure, renowned for her ability to mesmerize even the gods themselves.

In the center stood a goddess whose very presence seemed to flow like a gentle breeze. Her grace was otherworldly, her movements soft and fluid, as if she were a living embodiment of music and poetry. Her flawless, glowing face was framed by her long, lustrous hair, and her form was adorned with a flowing skirt woven with golden threads that shimmered with celestial light. This was Urvashi, the most celebrated of the Apsaras, whose name itself meant "one who can steal hearts."

"Here they come!" Vayu exclaimed, landing beside Brihaspati with a confident smile. "The goddess in the middle is Urvashi, unmatched in her beauty, even among the Apsaras."

Brihaspati nodded, clearly captivated by their presence. "They are indeed divine. Together, they are the finest jewels of Svarga."

The other gods could not take their eyes off the Apsaras, their grace and radiance commanding absolute attention. Yet, Agni's brow furrowed with unease. "But what if it still doesn't work?" he questioned, his voice tinged with doubt. "The King of Svarga once reveled in indulgence, but now his penance shields his heart. Can even the most enchanting Apsaras wake him up?"

"We can overwhelm him with numbers," Brihaspati replied with a reassuring smile. "We have all 36 Deva Apsaras of Svarga. With Kama's help, I believe we can succeed!"

As Brihaspati spoke with growing confidence, the Devas exchanged thoughtful glances. It made sense—if the Apsaras' beauty wasn't enough, surely their sheer numbers would be. And with Kama's intervention, could Indra resist?

The air buzzed with anticipation. The battle to rouse the King of Svarga had begun in earnest.

By the lake, the three Apsaras awaited Urvashi's signal to begin their dance.

The moment they moved, the air seemed to shimmer with their grace. Their red skirts fluttered and twirled like the petals of a blooming mandala flower, each movement a delicate swirl. Their figures, fluid and enchanting, encircled Indra, weaving a trail of sweet-scented breezes. It was as if the very essence of beauty brushed against his chest, like soft jade fingers caressing his skin.

With each step, waves of love and longing began to stir in Indra's heart. Every twist and turn of the dance was like a teasing caress, tugging at the deepest strings of his soul.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

His heartbeat thundered in his chest, resonating like the roar of a storm.

The Devas, watching from the sidelines, exchanged glances as they heard the sound. Their eyes lit up with excitement. Could it be? Was it working?

At that moment, Surya arrived, Kama in tow.

Kama descended from his parrot, his smile as radiant as ever. He was handsome, exuding an aura of charm and allure. With a graceful leap, he slid off his mount and landed on the soft grass below.

"Ah, how can anyone resist my presence?" Kama said with a teasing smile, his voice smooth and melodic. "Fear not, for I, the master of love, am here to ensure hearts bend to your will."

He raised his left hand, and with a fluid motion, a divine bow materialized in his grasp. Crafted from sugarcane, its shaft bore alternating purple and green segments, exuding a sweet, vibrant fragrance. The bowstring, woven from buzzing bees, hummed softly, the sound of love itself. The fletching was made from delicate attachments, while the arrowhead was formed from the hope of a thousand hearts, the tip glistening with the promise of longing.

Kama nocked an arrow, drawing the bowstring back with a slow, deliberate motion. His eyes sparkled with anticipation, and a mischievous smile curled at the corners of his lips. He had never yet aimed his arrow at the King of Svarga—today, however, would be different.

Before he could release the arrow, a sudden golden light shot down from the skies, enveloping Indra in its radiance.

The Devas and the Apsaras all turned, startled by the light. As it dissipated, they found themselves looking at a space where Indra had once stood.

"Where did Indra go?" Kama muttered, his brow furrowing in confusion as he scanned the area. He looked left and right, but Indra was nowhere to be found. He released the arrow, though it flew without a target.

The Devas, too, were perplexed. The King had vanished.

"This... this is the power of Lord Vishnu!" Rishi Brihaspati said, his eyes narrowing in thought. "It seems Lord Vishnu has called Indra away."

Kama's expression faltered, and with a disappointed sigh, he lowered his bow and arrow. "A pity," he murmured.

…

On the other side, Indra was lost in a trance, deep in meditation and slumber, his mind adrift in peaceful stillness. In this serene state, he saw three celestial beings dancing around him. Their graceful movements, accompanied by a sweet fragrance, stirred a longing deep within him. But before the desire could take hold, a sharp presence broke through the haze, pulling him from the trance with ease.

"Very good dance moves," the voice echoed.

The thought struck him like a bolt of lightning, and with that, he snapped awake, his meditation shattered.

Indra blinked, his senses returning. He smiled softly at first, but then his expression shifted to one of confusion and disbelief. What he expected to see were the Apsaras, their beauty surrounding him in a warm, ethereal glow. Instead, before him stood an angry figure in Sahsrakavacha, an imposing figure whose presence felt like a shadow over his soul.

"!!!"

Indra's brow furrowed as he blinked, trying to make sense of what he was seeing. The face before him was oddly familiar, but he couldn't place it.

"Indra!" the figure shouted, his voice thick with contempt. "Hahaha! Stupid Vishnu, he sent you here! Hahaha! However, Svarga is my domain now!"

Indra's heart sank. The figure's laughter was wild, filled with a maddening glee.

"Indra," the man snarled, his face twisted with ferocity. "Your death is at hand!"

It was Hiranyakashipu—the very Asura who had terrorized the Triloka, the one who had caused so much destruction. Indra's blood ran cold at the sight.

Hiranyakashipu's rage erupted, and with a mighty roar, a golden hammer appeared in his hand. It gleamed with an almost blinding light, as golden sparks danced along its surface. As he leaped into the air, the hammer seemed to pulse with energy, drawing upon the very forces of Svarga and the Earth itself. The sheer power it radiated was enough to tear the fabric of reality, an unstoppable force that no god could hope to withstand.

Indra's eyes widened in shock as the hammer glowed with unholy strength.

"So strong!" he whispered, the weight of the moment sinking in. There was no time to hesitate.

His heart raced, and without a second thought, he cried out.

"Sahasrakavacha! Grant me the power of the epitome of gods!"

In an instant, golden light enveloped him as the Sahasrakavacha's Armor materialized, its gleaming surface shimmering with the brilliance of the sun itself. As the light cleared, Brahma's figure appeared, the radiant deity standing tall and unyielding.

"As you wish!" came the ethereal voice of the armor, echoing softly around him.

Indra's expression hardened with resolve, his golden armor radiating divine energy. He was ready. The battle was about to begin.

The moment Hiranyakashipu's massive hammer fell, the ground trembled violently.

Boom!

A shockwave of terrifying force erupted, and the aftermath rippled through Svarga like a tidal wave. The heavens themselves seemed to quake under the immense power. Buildings crumbled and shattered, their remains tumbling through the air like dust. The Asuras, caught in the destruction, screamed in panic as their world disintegrated around them.

Mandala Mountain swayed uneasily, and the stars that marked the boundary between Svarga and the human world flickered, dimming as explosions of light shattered the celestial sky. Stars exploded one after another, breaking apart into countless fragments.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

The explosions rocked the very foundation of Svarga. Amidst the chaos, Indra stood firm, his hands pressed on his waist, his clothes billowing in the storm. With a sudden motion, he spread his arms wide, and in an instant, two powerful maces materialized in his hands—the Vristi and Duskara. The twin maces glowed with raw energy, lightning crackling violently between them, their fury intertwining in a symphony of destruction.

Boom!

Hiranyakashipu staggered back, taking two steps before coming to a halt. His laughter echoed, mocking.

"Hahaha! Your lightning is nothing! You are so weak that it can't even scratch me!"

With a casual flick, Hiranyakashipu tossed aside his golden hammer, his laughter growing louder, echoing through the heavens. His arrogance was palpable, his confidence unwavering.

But Indra, unfazed, calmly lowered his weapons. He didn't flinch or show any sign of panic. He had already anticipated this, his mind calculating every move. A subtle smile played on his lips as he tilted his head.

"Ah, Lord Vishnu," Indra said, his voice soft yet steady. "I should have known it was you."

Through the lingering tension, a warm laugh resonated, rich with kindness and understanding. Lord Vishnu stepped forward, his expression a blend of amusement and gentle remorse. "Forgive me, Indra. The devotees' devotion compelled this play. But rest assured, as their wish has been fulfilled, I grant you a boon in return. From this moment, neither I nor any incarnation of mine shall bring you harm."

A golden light descended from the heavens, enveloping Indra in its radiance. The light was warm and invigorating, and as it flowed into his body, he felt the rush of divine power filling him. The blessing was clear—an assurance that he would remain untouched by harm from Hiranyakashipu's strength, a divine shield that made him invulnerable to the god's wrath.

"The blessing feels good," Indra mused to himself, a sly smile creeping onto his face. "But it seems a bit… lackluster?"

Chuckling softly, he glanced upward with a playful glint in his eye.

"Hey~ Lord, you're too stingy with your gifts," Indra teased. "Such small blessings? You'll find yourself cursed in the future for being so tight-fisted!"

His voice was lighthearted as if bantering with an old friend. After all, he had been summoned by Vishnu himself, and Indra wasn't one to miss an opportunity for a little extra favor.

A huff of annoyance followed. "Hmph!" Hiranyakashipu snapped, his rage flaring as he turned to face the new arrival. "You're all here, are you? Then get out of my way! I'll take you both on and destroy you!"

Fury burned in his eyes as he swept his gaze across the celestial beings around him, daring anyone to challenge him.

The tension was thick in the air. A battle between Deva and Asura loomed, one that would shape the fate of Svarga's throne.

---

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Chapter Text

"Vishnu, Indra. Today I kill both of you together!" The roar of Hiranyakashipu reverberated through the svarga, unleashing a wave of destructive air.

He raised his hands high, crossing them in front of his chest before jerking them to both sides with immense force.

The sound of cracking armor echoed as the Sahsrakavacha on his body splintered. Cracks spread rapidly across the surface, forming a web of destruction that deepened with each passing second. The cracks stretched to their breaking point—

Bang!

With a deafening explosion, the breastplate shattered, scattering countless fragments into the air, revealing his powerful, molten body beneath—like red-hot copper sizzling in flames.

"Where are you, Vishnu?!" Hiranyakashipu roared, his voice thundering across the svarga. "Show yourself, if you dare to face me!" his chest heaving with fury. His upper body was now exposed, his muscles bulging, tendons throbbing beneath his skin. He clenched his fingers one by one into a fist, resembling a predator's claws, ready to tear into anything in his path.

"As you wish!" A voice echoed through the Svarga, a calm yet commanding presence that reverberated in response to the blessings of his followers.

Boom!

The ground trembled as a massive pillar cracked open with a series of sharp, thunderous cracks. It exploded with incredible force, and from its remains, a terrifying figure leaped out, his golden hair swirling like a storm.

Ouoh! A gust of wind followed, thick with the scent of blood and power, as a roar split the heavens themselves.

The figure had the body of a human, its head was of the fierce and regal lion. He lowered his head and let out a mighty roar, the ground shaking beneath the force of his sound. His golden crown shone brightly, illuminating the darkening sky, and a golden shawl draped elegantly over his body. His hands were sharp, and clawed, exuding a cold light that matched the fierce rage in his eyes.

The fourth avatara of the Vishnu. He incarnated as a part-lion, part-man. Hence it's named Narasimha.

"I will kill you both! Prove that I am the true king of Triloka!" Hiranyakashipu growled in a low, guttural voice. He threw his head back and roared, the sound growing louder and more ferocious by the second. As he did, his body began to grow, expanding at an alarming rate until he seemed to engulf the very heavens. His form became so massive that it appeared as though Svarga itself was held up by the sheer enormity of his presence.

His feet, enormous enough to crush mountains, slammed down with world-shattering force, his power creating an oppressive wind that crushed everything in its path. The ground trembled as the wind of his steps surged forward, a storm of terror sweeping towards Indra and Narasimha.

Indra's heart raced, but his resolve never wavered. With a sharp exhale, he shot upward, turning into a streak of light and blasting toward the chaos.

Narasimha's eyes flashed with cold fury. In one swift motion, he grabbed Prahlada—who was desperately calming him to avert the oncoming destruction—and leaped out of harm's way.

Boom!

The earth trembled as Hiranyakashipu's colossal foot came crashing down, a force so powerful it seemed to crush the stars themselves. The heavens quaked, and the battle between gods reached its peak, the fate of Svarga hanging in the balance.

The skies themselves seemed to tremble as Svarga shook relentlessly. The stars at the boundary between Svarga and the human realm flickered violently, their light dimming as if struggling against the chaos unfolding below. Planets in the distance shattered one after another, their fragments scattering into the void like broken glass.

Indra steadied himself as the world around him raged. His eyes immediately locked on Narasimha, who had just landed with Prahlada in tow. Narasimha gently set Prahlada down before turning his gaze to Indra. Narasimha clasped his hands in front of him, offering a respectful bow.

"Narasimha?"

Indra mirrored the gesture, folding his hands and offering a solemn return of the greeting. A thought stirred in his heart as he observed the lion-god before him.

This must be Vishnu's incarnation—Narasimha. His temper seems… steady, and controlled for now.

But in the next moment, everything changed. Narasimha's expression shifted, his eyes filling with fury as he turned his head toward the enemy. His body swelled, growing larger as he let out a fearsome roar.

Boom!

The battle between the two titans erupted before Indra's eyes. Hiranyakashipu, the enormous Asura, met Narasimha's claws with his massive fists in a clash that shook the very fabric of Svarga.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

Power surged from both realms, the divine energies of Svarga and the raw strength of the earth converging to fuel Hiranyakashipu's might. Narasimha, however, was undeterred, his strength rising in equal measure with each blow.

With every collision, sparks flew—bright, burning fire scattered in all directions, igniting the air around them.

Tear!

Narasimha's claws slashed across Hiranyakashipu's chest, leaving a deep, jagged wound. Blood, as hot as molten lava, poured from the wound, sizzling against the air.

Hiranyakashipu's head snapped down, his lips curling into a maniacal grin as he let out a wild, echoing laugh.

"Hahahaha!" He mocked with a voice full of cruel amusement.

"You are neither god, nor Asura, nor human. You are the avatar of Vishnu, not a creation of Brahma—formed solely to wound me! Impressive." He paused, his eyes gleaming with dark triumph. "But what a pity... You still cannot break my boon. You cannot kill me!"

As he laughed, the power of the blessing surged once again, and the wound on his chest began to close, healing instantly as though it had never been.

With a wicked grin, Hiranyakashipu conjured a massive golden hammer in his hand. He swung it down toward Narasimha's chest with all the fury of a meteor falling from the heavens.

Boom!

Narasimha staggered back, forced to take two steps to steady himself. His golden eyes flashed with resolve, but Hiranyakashipu wasn't finished.

"Hahahaha!" The Asura raised his head, his laughter ringing through the air as he swung a massive mace high into the sky, preparing to strike again.

In the blink of an eye, Hiranyakashipu's triumphant laughter faltered, his grin vanishing as quickly as it had appeared. His face twisted in agony, contorting in ways that made it seem as though every inch of his body was being ripped apart. The sheer intensity of his pain was palpable, and one could almost feel it just by looking at him.

"Ahhh!" The scream that tore from his throat was filled with rage and suffering. "It hurts!"

He gritted his teeth, his golden eyes narrowing with lethal focus as he whipped his head around, locking onto the figure of Indra—now a mere speck in the distance.

"Being small has its advantages!"

Indra stood calmly, his smile serene, despite the turmoil around him. In his hands, he wielded the divine spear Amogha, its blue glow shimmering as divine energy surged around him. The divine armor on his body sparkled with ethereal light, and the venomous poison of Halahala writhed like a serpent, coiling around the spear as though guided by an unseen hand.

"Amogha!"

Indra's voice was calm yet powerful as his eyes fixed on Hiranyakashipu, his gaze unflinching. With a swift motion, he drew back his arm and hurled the spear forward.

Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!

The divine spear split into thousands of smaller projectiles as they shot forward, falling like a torrential downpour onto Hiranyakashipu's massive form. The spearheads glowed with an eerie, poisonous light that flickered in the air.

For a brief moment, Hiranyakashipu's body twitched violently as the divine spears pierced his skin. The pain was overwhelming, like a thousand needles digging into his flesh, each one carrying the agonizing sting of venom. It was as if he were being attacked by a swarm of invisible beasts.

"Ahhh!!!"

Hiranyakashipu roared in fury, his body writhing with unbearable discomfort. His golden eyes burned with hatred as he glared at Indra, his voice hoarse from the pain.

"Indra!"

The Asura trembled, fighting against the excruciating sensations as his body shuddered from the poison's relentless assault. But even in the face of such pain, he would not show weakness.

Indra, unfazed, withdrew Amogha, his expression calm and controlled. But before he could react further, Hiranyakashipu, his body shaking with rage, began to shrink at an alarming rate, compressing into a form so small it was almost unrecognizable.

In a flash, he hurtled toward Indra, moving with the speed of a meteor, intent on crushing the god before him.

Boom!

The ground trembled beneath them as Hiranyakashipu's massive form shot toward Indra, but just as it seemed the Asura would strike, a tremendous force slammed down from above.

A colossal foot descended from the skies with an earth-shattering crash, shaking the very foundations of Svarga. Narasimha, in all his glory, had appeared once more. With a single, swift motion, he trampled Hiranyakashipu underfoot, his massive foot pressing the Asura into the earth as if he were nothing more than an insect. The heavens shook as the battlefield was engulfed in the power of Narasimha's divine wrath.

Narasimha bared his teeth, letting out a deafening roar. With a fierce determination, he bent forward and pressed down with all his might.

Boom!

The massive feet, as large as mountains, pinned Hiranyakashipu beneath them. The ground shook violently as Narasimha's immense power crushed his foe. But Hiranyakashipu, ever the resilient fighter, uncoiled like a serpent. With a swift motion, he straightened his back and rose, placing his hands on Narasimha's gigantic foot for support.

"Ahhhhhhh!"

The Asura's roar echoed through the Svarga, his body coiling with effort as he seemed to defy Narasimha's dominance, attempting to overturn the human lion.

Hiranyakashipu was a formidable warrior, but strength alone wasn't enough against the gods. Indra watched the battle unfold with keen eyes, his expression unreadable.

He can't harm him directly, Indra thought, but a little interference will tip the scales.

In a flash, the divine spear Amogha vanished from Indra's hand, replaced by the legendary Indra's Bow, which shimmered with seven radiant colors. He nocked an arrow, the bowstring vibrating with divine energy. As he pulled it back, the poisonous light of Halahala flared brightly, condensing into a dark blue arrow that hummed with power.

Boom!

The arrow flew, striking Hiranyakashipu with the force of a storm. The Asura staggered as if struck by an invisible force stronger than any physical blow. His body recoiled in agony, like a titan felled by kryptonite, the strength draining from him in an instant.

Narasimha seized the moment, his colossal foot descending once more with the force of a mountain.

Boom!

Indra's eyes narrowed, his gaze sharp and calculating. It's done.

Hiranyakashipu's blessings were a nearly insurmountable defense—protection against death by day or night, indoors or outdoors, from gods, asuras, yakshas, nagas, or humans. But there was still a way to defeat him.

Indra turned and gazed toward the sky, his voice booming with authority.

"Surya!!!"

...

In the Brahmaloka, Brahma and the goddess Saraswati sat cross-legged upon a radiant lotus, their forms glowing with divine light. Waves of energy shimmered in front of them, reflecting the ongoing battle in the Svarga, a celestial mirror capturing every moment.

"The poison of Halahala can't harm Hiranyakashipu, but it causes him immense pain," Brahma said slowly, his voice heavy with foreknowledge.

"Hiranyakashipu is going to be captured!" Saraswati added, her eyes flickering with both concern and hope.

Before them, the mirror wasn't only a reflection for the gods, but also a window for countless Devas and immortals who had gathered to witness the battle unfold. As they watched Hiranyakashipu struggle, their faces brightened with anticipation.

"Great!" Surya exclaimed, his voice filled with relief. "The end of Hiranyakashipu's rule is near!"

"The suffering he has caused will finally be over!" Brihaspati marveled, the atmosphere thick with a mixture of excitement and disbelief.

"The moment Hiranyakashipu is defeated," Agni, the god of fire, said eagerly, his hands trembling with anticipation, "we can resume the sacrifices. The power of the Devas will be restored, and we will return to Svarga!"

Vayu laughed, a rich, booming sound that echoed through the chamber. "If lord Vishnu and Indra work together, victory is certain!"

Brihaspati nodded, their faces alight with shared optimism. The era of Hiranyakashipu's tyranny was nearing its end, and with it, the promise of peace and prosperity for the realms.

"Indra," said one of the Rishis, Attri his voice filled with admiration, "he is truly the strongest of the Adityas. The son of Kshyapa has inherited his wisdom."

"In that case," Attri continued, his eyes softening with reverence, "my wife and I can finally return to the human world, as we had once hoped."

The immortal Attri, born from Brahma's eyes, had long devoted himself to the path of wisdom. His long beard and hair, thick and silvered with age, cascaded down his form, his orange-red robe a testament to his divine status. Clutching his curved short staff, he and his wife, Anasuya, had sought refuge in the Brahmaloka after the persecution of Hiranyakashipu forced them to leave the human world.

As the Devas and immortals shared in their joy, the voice of Indra echoed through the mirror, a call that rang with the power of the heavens.

"Surya!" Indra's voice thundered.

"Surya!!" he repeated, summoning the sun god with urgency.

---

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Chapter Text

As the lingering sound echoed through the air, the eyes of the Devas and Rishis turned as one, their gaze fixed upon Surya. Some were surprised, others were confused, and many were curious; their expressions were a mix of emotions.

Surya stood still, momentarily stunned. What should he say now? How could he help Indra at this moment? But under the weight of the Devas' scrutiny, he forced himself to maintain composure, puffing out his chest with a regal air. He raised his right hand, holding up a golden staff, radiating majesty.

"Surya!"

Brahma's voice thundered across the Svargas, deep and commanding, reverberating through the heavens themselves. "Hiranyakashipu's blessing makes him immune to death by the passage of time: neither by day nor by night. He cannot be killed indoors or outdoors by humans, Devas, Asuras, or any being of my creation. To fulfill the first condition, we need you! Only you can alter the time of day to make the impossible possible."

The Devas' eyes narrowed in focus. This was the moment they had been waiting for. With reverence, they clasped their hands together and bowed deeply.

"Surya, you are the light that guides us all!" Agni spoke, his fiery presence crackling with intensity. "Without your courage, this battle cannot be won."

"Think of the Triloka!" Vayu added, his voice like the wind itself. "The humans, Svarga, and the Patala—they all look to you now. Will you let Hiranyakashipu's tyranny consume them?"

"Your radiance pierces the darkness, Surya!" Varuna's voice boomed. "Now is the time to show your strength and bravery, to rise as the protector of all creation!"

At this, Surya's eyebrows lifted, his divine body glowing even brighter, his radiance dazzling to all who gazed upon him. The Devas turned away, unable to look directly at the intensity of his light. He smiled in approval.

"Good," he said with a laugh. "Let me bring the dusk to the final moments of Hiranyakashipu."

Surya raised his head, his voice filled with confidence. He spread his arms wide, his form a beacon of light.

In the next instant, he turned to the side and called out. "Aruna!"

With a snap of reins, the sound of galloping hooves filled the air. The god of dawn, Aruna, drove the sun chariot, its golden horses racing toward Surya with blazing heat.

Surya leaped effortlessly into the chariot, soaring into the sky with the divine steeds beneath him.

"Hurry, Aruna!" he urged, his voice a command. The divine horses surged forward, carrying Surya as they flew toward Svarga, the dawn breaking on the horizon.

Just as they were gaining speed, Aruna, his charioteer, turned to Surya with a mischievous grin.

"You said you were going to ride off into the sunset, yet here we are racing toward the dawn. Are we still running, or have we switched paths?"

Surya raised an eyebrow, rolling his eyes slightly. "Don't joke at this moment Aruna," he replied with a smirk, his focus never wavering as he urged the chariot onward.

"If we continue running toward the sunset for too long, something unexpected could happen, and it may prove too dangerous. Perhaps we should stop here."

"No need," Surya replied with confidence. "The dawn of the Devas will be the sunset for Hiranyakashipu. This moment is enough."

A smile spread across his face, and Aruna, finally understanding, tightened the reins. The sun chariot came to a sudden halt.

In an instant, the faintest trace of dawn flickered on the horizon.

The time had come.

Within the celestial palace, Indra surveyed his surroundings. Ruins lay scattered before him, and not a single door remained intact.

"Hahaha!" Hiranyakashipu's voice rang out, full of mockery. "You can't kill me! Even if it's dawn, I won't die indoors or outdoors. Heh!"

His teeth ground together as he sneered, the sound biting through the air. His legs trembled, but with great effort, he pushed himself upright, clutching the giant foot of Narasimha for support.

"Did I ask you to speak?" Hiranyakashipu sneered, his voice laced with disdain.

Indra's eyes narrowed. "Kneel!" he commanded.

With a wave of his hand, Sahsrakavacha materialized around him, and a beam of poisonous blue light shot forth, striking Hiranyakashipu.

"Ahhh!" The Asura screamed in agony, his eyes widening with pain. His body crumpled once again forced down.

"Impossible!" Hiranyakashipu growled, struggling. "A door is so easily built... doesn't he think there's nothing more he can do?"

Indra chuckled darkly, his form shifting as divine power flowed through him.

Uh-huh! Uh-huh! Uh-huh!

Golden light erupted around him, and weapons flew from his body, assembling with divine precision. The maces of Vristi and Dristi formed the door's frame, the Vajra set as the threshold, and Indra's bow gleamed with seven-colored light, placed atop as the final touch.

In the blink of an eye, a doorway of divine weapons, glowing with celestial light, stood before them.

Narasimha, the mighty human lion, turned his gaze toward the divine weapon door. His eyes flashed with approval, and a slight nod of satisfaction escaped him.

"Indeed, the King of Svarga is wise," Narasimha thought. "Neither indoors nor outdoors. A door—it is fitting."

In the next moment, the colossal figure of Narasimha shrank, returning to his original form.

The golden-sheeted man, exhausted from the battle, knelt on the ground, his hands pressed against the earth. Sweat drenched his body, and he panted heavily, the weight of the moment pressing down on him.

Although Hiranyakashipu's power was not infinite, after relentless resistance, he had finally reached his limit—exhausted and on the brink of collapse.

At that moment, a sudden relief washed over him as his back loosened. He looked up sharply, alarmed.

Narasimha stood before him, his mane swirling wildly, fangs gleaming like weapons, and his bloodshot eyes glowing with a murderous hunger. With a single motion, he seized Hiranyakashipu, lifting him effortlessly into the air and striding toward the divine weapon door.

"I am neither a god, an Asura, a Yaksha, a Rakshasa, nor a human nor I am created by Brahma!" Narasimha growled, his voice a deep rumble. "It is dawn now—neither day nor night!"

As he spoke, he held Hiranyakashipu high, moving closer to the divine weapon door. Indra, leaning casually on his divine spear Amogha, watched the unfolding scene with keen interest. His arms were crossed, his expression thoughtful.

Then, a sudden realization struck him. The power of his penance.

Indra had been in slumber for thousands of years, but the strength he had accumulated before his rest should have nearly reached two thousand years of penance. He had cast an extra layer of golden sun armor and received a blessing that made him immune to harm from weapons.

Based on his calculations, there should have been roughly a thousand years of power left.

Yet, as he focused his senses, something seemed off. The energy from his penance was only 600 years old.

What?

Indra blinked, narrowing his eyes as his gaze shifted inward, tracing the power's trail. His senses honed in on the divine armor—specifically, the second layer of golden sun armor.

"My second layer of divine armor has consumed over a thousand years of my penance?" Indra thought, shock creeping into his chest. "It's drained nearly fourteen hundred years of my power!"

He paused, contemplating. "The greater the blessing required, the more penance is consumed..." Indra mused, but then his lips curved into a reassuring smile. "It's alright. There's still plenty of time ahead."

Once Hiranyakashipu fell, the Asuras would be leaderless and remain dormant for some time. That would give Indra more time to replenish his strength, to rebuild his power.

Indra's smile grew, his confidence unwavering. He wasn't concerned. There was still time to spare.

Having already slain two Asura kings in quick succession, Indra couldn't imagine that any remaining Asura king would be foolish enough to challenge him now. Surely, they would recognize the futility of such a move, wouldn't they?

He shook his head, smiling, pushing the thought aside. His gaze shifted to the human lion and Hiranyakashipu, the scene before him still unfolding.

At this moment, Narasimha, the lion, had lifted Hiranyakashipu high into the air. The Asura king flailed and struggled, but it was no use—his strength was futile against Narasimha's grasp.

"This is neither indoors nor outdoors!" Narasimha roared, his voice a low rumble. "But it is the threshold!"

With that, Narasimha suddenly seated himself on the threshold of the Divine Weapon Gate, his form towering over the fallen Asura king. In the blink of an eye, he slammed Hiranyakashipu down, pinning him against his knees.

"You are neither in the Sky nor Earth!" Narasimha continued, his voice filled with a divine fury. "But at my knees!"

As he spoke, Narasimha opened his claws, his sharp, bloodthirsty face glinting in the light. The gleaming talons reflected a terrifying glow, and for a brief moment, all eyes were on him.

With a predatory snarl, Narasimha extended his claws, their sharp, glinting edges glowing with an otherworldly light. His bloodthirsty visage twisted into a fierce expression as he declared, "No weapon forged by human, Deva, or Asura shall end you. But these—" he raised his claws high, their golden brilliance radiating power, "—are no weapon. They are my nails, unbound by your pitiful boon!"

In Brahmaloka, the Devas held their collective breath, their eyes wide with anticipation. The moment they had been waiting for was nearly at hand. They waited for Narasimha to strike, to finally end Hiranyakashipu's reign of terror.

Narasimha's claws descended like lightning, striking Hiranyakashipu's belly. A deep, red line appeared, and blood spilled forth, staining the air.

The Devas gasped, their eyes widening in shock.

"Ahhhhhh!" Hiranyakashipu howled in agony.

But just as Narasimha prepared to land the final blow, something unexpected happened. Hiranyakashipu suddenly raised his head, his roar vibrating through the air.

What?

Narasimha froze, a trace of confusion flickering across his bloodthirsty expression. The Asura king was clearly in pain, yet why did he roar with such intensity for something as minor as a wound?

Narasimha's gaze turned to Hiranyakashipu as the Asura king's body began to tremble violently. Then, it expanded, glowing with an eerie blue light.

Hiranyakashipu's roar suddenly stopped. The light around him flickered, and there was an eerie silence. No breath. No movement.

How did he die? Narasimha frowned, his claws still outstretched. He glanced down at his paws, his sharp talons gleaming in the divine light.

A faint blue hue began to seep into the air.

Indra, watching closely, was momentarily startled. His gaze sharpened as he observed the unexpected turn of events. His eyes widened as he saw Narasimha's face, now darkening into a blue hue, transforming into that of Ugra Narasimha.

"Could it be...?"

Chapter Text

"Could it be... that I miscalculated?" Indra murmured, lowering his head in thought.

His mind raced back to the blinding light of Halahala emanating from his divine armor. He had unleashed several blasts of toxic light at Hiranyakashipu, all of which had struck their target. However, the poison hadn't just touched Hiranyakashipu but also contaminated Narasimha. Given that the human-lion was subduing the Asura king, it was inevitable that the poison had also spread through him.

"By placing Hiranyakashipu on his lap, the Narasimha has become a conduit for the Halahala. That means the blessing's conditions were broken!" Indra's eyes lit up with realization. "I've done something impossible!"

A sense of satisfaction filled him. Despite the poison's destructive nature, Narasimha, the incarnation of Vishnu, had withstood its effects—his face was tinged with blue, but he was far from dead. If this had been any other Deva or Asura, they would have perished by now.

What a surprise!

Indra cleared his throat twice, then extended his palm with an air of calm authority. Slowly, he began to approach Narasimha.

"Allow me to relieve you of the Halahala," he offered, his tone measured, though a trace of amusement lingered in his voice.

Before Narasimha could respond, something unexpected happened. Hiranyakashipu, his body ravaged by the poison, suddenly erupted.

Boom!

The Asura king's form shattered into an explosion of light, the flames of Halahala coursing through the air in a brilliant clash of green and gold. The explosion sent waves of divine energy scattering, enveloping Narasimha in a storm of blinding light.

Narasimha, now fully surrounded by the blinding radiance, felt the intensity of the power coursing through him. His nose twitched, and he inhaled deeply, a low growl rumbling in his chest.

"Raaawwrrrrr!!!"

With a primal roar, Narasimha tilted his head back, unleashing a terrifying bellow that rippled through the air. The force of the roar sent shockwaves in every direction, shaking the very heavens and earth.

Surya, witnessing the devastation, was thrown into a panic. His chariot swayed violently, the divine horses roaring in fear as the reins shook uncontrollably. Surya himself had to bend down to steady the chariot, a look of horror on his face.

"What's happening?!" he cried, his voice filled with dread.

Through the swirling green and black smoke, Narasimha's piercing eyes—once a brilliant, fierce gold—shifted into a deep scarlet, glowing with a predatory intensity. His gaze fixed directly on Indra, the weight of it heavy and dangerous.

Indra stood still, his body slightly angled, his eyes locked onto Narasimha's. At that moment, their gazes collided—two powerful forces clashing as if a thousand flames were burning between them.

...

Kailash.

Lord Shiva stood in a vast, serene field, his trident held firmly in his hand. The landscape stretched endlessly before him, a tapestry of vibrant flowers in full bloom. The colors were a symphony of hues—brilliant, mesmerizing, and breathtakingly beautiful.

With a peaceful smile, Shiva walked through the sea of datura flowers, his presence as calm as the breeze that whispered through the petals. He moved gracefully, the flowers parting around him like the embrace of nature itself. His eyes softened as he bent slightly, reaching down to pick a cluster of blooming datura flowers.

Shiva gazed at the flowers in his hand, a gentle smile playing on his lips. His thoughts drifted, and for a fleeting moment, he seemed lost in the memory of his beloved wife, Parvati.

"Exquisitely beautiful," he murmured, his voice rich with affection.

For a moment, it was unclear whether he spoke of the mandala flowers or Parvati herself.

But just as the thought lingered in the air, a thunderous roar shattered the stillness.

Shiva's fingers flicked with effortless grace, and the third eye on his forehead gleamed with divine power. In an instant, the mandala flowers were reduced to ash, the remnants scattering in the wind like fleeting memories.

A shadow of sadness flickered across his face as he lifted his gaze. His eyes, once warm, now carried a hint of solemnity and concern. His mind had already sensed the disturbance, and the peace he had so momentarily cherished now seemed distant.

...

Brahmaloka.

Brahma's arm trembled, and the Vedas nearly slipped from his grasp. His eyes widened in disbelief as he stared ahead, his snow-white beard quivering slightly with shock.

The Devas around him were equally stunned. Their hands pressed together in worry as they looked to Brahma, waiting for an explanation.

Even the Creator God, Brahma, was visibly shaken.

"What has happened?" they murmured, their voices filled with unease.

Brahma took a deep breath, his expression grave. "Narasimha has been influenced by the dark emotions of arrogance, bloodlust, rage, and greed from Hiranyakashipu. Now, he has completely lost his mind."

He paused, his voice heavy with concern. "He is… going mad. Ugra Narasimha."

…

"Raaawwrrrrr!!!"

Narasimha bared his teeth and claws, his golden mane whipping wildly as he roared toward Indra with terrifying ferocity, resembling a mad lion on the hunt.

Indra flinched, instinctively taking a step back.

The lion's face was poisoned with a deep blue hue, but its power remained undiminished. It was unmistakably the incarnation of Lord Vishnu! And now, with such wrath, could it be because he had stolen someone's head?

Roar!!!

Before Indra could react, Narasimha lunged at him, his arms swinging wildly.

The air crackled with tension as the lion's claws slashed through the void, long, cold beams of light emanating from them, so sharp they seemed to cut through time and space itself.

"Brother!"

Surya, gripping the reins of his sacred chariot, shouted in panic.

Narasimha's power was immense—able to subdue the mighty Hiranyakashipu, a force of both Svarga and Earth. If this madness continued, even the King of Svarga could be in danger.

In Brahmaloka...

Agni, Vayu, and Varuna watched in horror, their faces reflecting the fear that gripped them. Narasimha was going mad, and the King of Svarga might not survive this onslaught!

Whoosh!

Narasimha flew past in a blur, his claws slashing through the air, the light from them revealing his terrifying form.

"Not today!"

Indra's voice rang out, calm and resolute. He lowered his gaze to his chest, watching as his pristine, snow-white silk garment remained unscathed. The Rudraksha beads on his arm were untouched.

Surya, watching in stunned silence, grasped the armrest of his chariot, astonished.

In Brahmaloka...

The Devas collectively exhaled in relief, marveling that the King of Svarga had emerged unscathed.

"Before the battle began, Indra was blessed by the Preserver of Creation. He cannot be harmed by any of incarnation's fury," Agni explained, his voice filled with awe.

Hearing this, the others shared a sense of relief.

"With the King of Svarga here, we should be able to hold back this frenzied Narasimha," Vayu declared confidently.

"If Narasimha cannot hurt the King of Svarga, then with Indra's strength, there will be no problem," Agni added with a reassuring smile, fully confident in Indra's martial prowess.

Soma, the Moon God, nodded slowly in agreement.

"Indeed. As long as the King of Svarga holds his ground, even if Narasimha loses control, he won't be able to break through to Brahmaloka. We are safe for now," Soma said with a calm smile.

...

The Milky Sea stretched out forever, sparkling under the soft, golden light of Vaikuntha. Goddess Lakshmi stood at the edge, her hands clasped tightly. She looked worried, her eyes fixed on the scene unfolding far away.

Her husband, Lord Vishnu, had transformed into the fierce lion-man, Narasimha, to defeat the terrible Hiranyakashipu. But now, Narasimha's anger was like a wild storm, and it didn't look like it would stop anytime soon.

"Natha!" Lakshmi called out, her voice trembling with both love and concern.

Just then, Sheshanaga, the giant thousand-headed serpent who always served Vishnu, slid forward from the shadows. His many heads swayed gently, his many eyes calm.

"Devi," Sheshanaga said in a soothing voice, "don't worry. The Lord is strong and wise. He won't let anything go wrong."

Lakshmi glanced at him, her golden face still full of concern. "But Sheshanaga, he's so furious. What if he goes too far? What if something bad happens to him or Indra?"

Sheshanaga's head bowed slightly. "Devi, Lord Vishnu is beyond harm. And remember, Hari's boon protects Indra from any harm caused by his incarnations. Trust in his power. He knows what he's doing."

Lakshmi sighed, her voice soft but firm. "Sheshanaga, your faith is unwavering, but even the strongest can be overwhelmed. Can't you see how much this battle is taking from him? His fury might burn too bright and hurt more than just Hiranyakashipu."

…

"Raaawwrrrrr!!!"

Narasimha's eyes burned with fury, his sharp claws slicing through the air with a desperate, maddened ferocity. The cold light emanating from them shrieked across the sky, splitting the very earth beneath. The force was terrifying—unyielding in its wrath.

And yet...

It was futile. The claws, as sharp as they were, seemed no more than the playful swipes of a kitten, as harmless as the breeze. They barely made a mark.

Suddenly, Brahma's voice echoed from afar, cutting through the chaos and reaching Indra's ears with crystal clarity.

"Indra! Narasimha has fallen into madness! Hold him back and prevent him from destroying everything!"

Brahma's voice rang out, lingering in the air, as though to pierce the tumultuous sound of battle.

Indra's eyes widened with understanding. "I see!" he murmured, realization dawning upon him.

Turning swiftly, his gaze locked onto Narasimha's lion-blue face. Within the fierce figure, the Hora-Hora energy swirled and surged, but its spread was slow, contained for the moment within the beast's neck.

To subdue Narasimha, Indra knew more Halahala was needed. More power to tip the balance.

He stretched out his arms, closing his eyes for a brief moment. The energy within him surged, drawing from the very essence of the heavens. The power of Svarga flowed back into him, a tide of divine force rising like a volcano within his chest.

Strength!

Indra could feel it—the invincible power coursing through his veins once more. The joy of this resurgence was overwhelming, bubbling up from within him like molten lava.

"Hahahaha!" Indra laughed, the sound echoing with the promise of victory, his voice a thunderous roar in the face of the storm.

Chapter Text

"Hahahahaha!" Indra's laughter echoed through the skies. "Narayana, let me wake you up!" he bellowed, his voice filled with thunderous joy.

With the swiftness of the wind, Indra surged forward, his movements a blur of raw energy. In an instant, he raised his fist, and with no hint of hesitation or restraint, he delivered a mighty blow to Ugra Narasimha's face.

Boom!

The punch landed with the force of creation itself. The power of Svarga, concentrated and unrelenting, seemed to ignite the heavens. Stars twinkled as the heavens themselves rumbled with thunder and lightning, their might fueling the strike that slammed into Narasimha's face.

A deafening roar of pain erupted from Narasimha.

"Roar!"

He staggered backward, retreating toward the far side of Svarga, almost as though flung by the sheer force of the blow. His lion's head trembled violently, his beard and mane whipping in the wind, and his gaze twisted with a wave of anger so fierce it could scorch the very air around him.

His heart surged with bloodlust, a primal urge that drowned out all reason. Kill. Kill. Kill. His mind buzzed with a single, overwhelming thought.

With a vicious growl, Narasimha sprang to life. He leaped into the air, his rage propelling him forward like a beast seeking to rend its foe asunder. A massive golden pestle, resembling a colossal mace, appeared in his hands, its sheer size covering the sky like an impending doom. With a roar, he swung it with the force of an avalanche, bringing it down with the intent to crush Indra beneath its weight.

Indra, however, remained calm.

He advanced, each step measured and unwavering, his eyes locked on Narasimha as the beast hurtled toward him. His expression was serene, untouched by the storm that raged before him.

Blessed by Vishnu himself, Indra knew that neither the might of Narasimha nor the fury of any of his incarnations could harm him.

A smile tugged at the corner of Indra's lips as he raised his hand without hesitation.

Boom!

The pestle crashed down with a thunderous roar, but Indra's arm remained unshaken. His fingers spread wide as he caught the massive weapon in mid-air, holding it effortlessly with a casual grace.

"It feels... not quite as strong as a Hiranyakashipu," Indra mused aloud, his voice almost wistful.

His gaze drifted briefly to the colossal power in his hand. Boons are truly powerful, he thought to himself. Compared to the relentless force of Hiranyakashipu, dealing with Narasimha was almost too easy. Even without the deadly power of Halahala, he could take down Narasimha with ease, given enough time. Perhaps even a thousand years wouldn't be enough to stop him.

A quiet sense of satisfaction filled Indra as he marveled at the effortless power of his blessing.But then— No!Indra quickly stifled a laugh, shaking his head as he crushed the urge to revel in his own strength. He knew better. Indra quickly stifled a laugh, shaking his head as he crushed the urge to revel in his own strength. He knew better. Too many before him had let arrogance blind them, only to meet their doom. Ravana, the mighty king of Lanka, had dared to not acknowledge Vishnu's avatar and was slain. Hiranyakashipu, believing himself invincible, mocked Vishnu—only to be torn apart by Narasimha before his very eyes. His brother, Hiranyaksha, thought that being impervious to the Sudarshana Chakra made him a match for Vishnu—only to be struck down by Varaha instead.Defying the Trimurti, even in thought, was a path to ruin."I love this second too much to lose myself in arrogance," he murmured, his expression turning solemn.

He straightened himself, tilting his head and clenching his jaw tightly to prevent any further laughter from escaping. His gaze shifted to Narasimha, who was still seething with rage. Indra fought to maintain his composure, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

With a swift motion, he clenched his right fist, the divine armor shimmering with a flicker of green and blue poisonous light. Without hesitation, he unleashed his strike, the force of his punch sending a shockwave through the air.

Boom!

Narasimha was once again sent flying backward, crashing into the ruins of Svarga. The ground trembled beneath the impact, and the heavens themselves seemed to quake in response.

"Raaawwrrrrr!!!"

Narasimha roared in pain as he staggered to his feet, his body trembling with fury. The toxic power of Halahala surged once more, the poison spreading across his neck, turning it a deep, ominous blue. His eyes burned with crimson fire, but this time, something had shifted within him.

"Raaawwrrrrr!!!"

This time, Narasimha paused, his gaze shifting to Indra with a wary intensity. He had learned from his previous mistakes. Instead of rushing forward, he regarded Indra like a powerful adversary, his expression cautious yet filled with an unrelenting desire for battle.

Raising his right hand, Narasimha extended his index finger, his eyes narrowing with focus.

A divine Chakra began to spin on his fingertip.

Uh-huh!

The Sudarshan Chakra, Vishnu's sacred weapon, rotated with blinding speed. It cut through the air with a brilliance that could rival the sun itself, its power growing with every rotation. With a swift movement, the chakra launched from Narasimha's fingertip, hurtling toward Indra's head.

"Sudarshan Chakra!"

Indra's eyes widened in realization. He gasped and instinctively leaped backward, his body springing into motion. The Sudarshana Chakra was no ordinary weapon—it was the divine manifestation of Vishnu's supreme will. No being of darkness, no force of Adharma, could withstand its wrath. The Chakra could sever the head of any Asura in an instant, reducing even the mightiest to dust, for it moved with the speed of thought, striking down those who defied the cosmic order.

But even as he dodged, the Sudarshan Chakra followed, its speed unmatched. The radiant disc hurtled toward him, its light flashing in the blink of an eye, and before he could react, it was upon him.

Indra crossed his arms in front of his face, bracing for the impact.

The Sudarshan Chakra buzzed against his arms, its divine energy swirling around him. But instead of the expected agony of broken bones and torn flesh, Indra felt only a curious sensation—like a kitten's gentle nudge with its tongue.

He blinked, his confusion evident.

"Um?"

He glanced down, his arms still crossed in front of him. The Sudarshan Chakra continued to spin in midair, harmlessly brushing against his arm. But there were no signs of injury—no cuts, no bruises. His skin remained flawless.

Indra's brow furrowed as he studied the weapon. What was going on?

Indra's eyes widened in fascination as he watched the Sudarshan Chakra spin before him. A slow, appreciative sigh escaped his lips. He took a step back, his gaze never leaving the Sudarshan Chakra. With a deliberate motion, he raised his right hand and extended his index finger. Gently, he touched the center of the Sudarshan Chakra.

A radiant glow flared from the Sudarshan Chakra as it continued to spin, now rotating at the tip of his finger.

"I was underestimating this boon. Isn't this boon incredibly useful?" Indra mused aloud, a grin creeping onto his face.

With a subtle flick of his wrist, he hooked his index finger, and the Sudarshan Chakra responded instantly.

The chakra shot forward, spinning like the wheel of the world itself, and then struck Narasimha with precision.

"Raaawwrrrrr!!!"

Narasimha's head snapped back with a furious roar as a long, narrow wound sliced across his body, the power of the Sudarshan Chakra cutting deep. The divine weapon had breached his formidable form.

Indra blinked in surprise, his eyes sparkling with awe. He had not expected such immediate results. He twisted his index finger again, and the Sudarshan Chakra obediently returned, spinning back toward him with a trail of golden light. It hovered at his fingertip, radiating like the sun.

"The Sudarshan Chakra is incredibly powerful!" Indra exclaimed. "I also have a divine Chakra of my own, but... this is a chance to practice with such a fine weapon!"

A satisfied smile tugged at his lips. He raised his hand and pointed forward, his index finger outstretched once more.

The Sudarshan Chakra obeyed without hesitation. It shot forward at an incredible speed, this time surrounding Narasimha, swirling around him like an unrelenting storm.

Stab! Stab! Stab!

Each strike sent flares of fire erupting from Narasimha's body as the Sudarshan Chakra scraped against his skin, each hit sharper than the last.

Roar! Roar! Roar!

Narasimha's enraged roars echoed through the heavens as he writhed beneath the relentless assault, the Sudarshan Chakra's power unyielding.

…

In the realm of Brahma, Rishi Brihaspati sat with a satisfied expression. His quill moved gracefully across the parchment, writing the tales of the gods. A gentle smile tugged at his lips as he chronicled the feats of King Indra, the brave warrior, who had not only defeated the Asura king Hiranyakashipu, ruler of the Three Worlds but had also battled the enraged Narasimha...

As Brihaspati continued to write, his fingers tightened around the quill's holder, a moment of hesitation washing over him. His eyes flickered uncertainly to the text, and for the briefest of moments, doubt crept into his mind.

Should I include myself in this story?

The question lingered in the air, but before Brihaspati could settle on an answer, the Devas erupted in joyous celebration around him.

"In that case, Narasimha will soon be subdued," Agni declared, his eyes sparkling with anticipation.

"As expected of the god of war in Svarga," said Vayu his voice filled with awe. "Indra knows how to wield the Lord's Sudarshan Chakra so well. With that Chakra, I'm sure Narasimha's anger will soon be subdued, and our Lord will return."

The Devas' voices filled the air, their spirits lifted with hope and joy.

However, Brahma, seated in solemn meditation, opened his eyes wide. His expression was serious, his voice carrying an undeniable weight.

"An angry beast is dangerous," Brahma said, his voice measured, "but a wounded beast is even more so."

Sarasvati, the goddess of wisdom, blinked in surprise at her husband's words. Her gaze shifted between the Devas and Brahma, sensing the deeper meaning in his caution.

"Nath..." Sarasvati began, her voice is soft yet full of curiosity. "Do you mean..."

...

The Sudarshan Chakra spun relentlessly, its divine force surrounding Narasimha, trapping him in the center.

"Raaawwrrrrr!!!"

Narasimha, covered in wounds, clawed at his head in agony, his roars echoing through the air. He bent his knees and, with a surge of strength, propelled himself upward.

Boom!

The Sudarshan Chakra flew towards him once more, but Narasimha, undeterred by the pain, ignored the attack. He pushed through the searing agony, launching himself into the sky with fierce determination.

"This guy is actually running away?" Indra exclaimed, momentarily taken aback.

He watched as Narasimha soared higher, his heart sinking with a sudden, gnawing fear.

Not good!

"Surya! Run!" Indra shouted urgently.

Boom!

Narasimha shot through the sky like a bolt of lightning, his bloody maw gaping wide as he hurtled toward the Sun God, Surya.

Surya, who had been observing the battle with a gleam of excitement, suddenly froze. His expression shifted to one of alarm as he turned toward Aruna.

"Hurry up!" he shouted, panic creeping into his voice.

Aruna swiftly tightened the reins, urging the sun chariot into the sky.

But Narasimha was closing in fast.

"Raaawwrrrrr!!!"

The beast opened his mouth wide, unleashing an overwhelming gust of violent wind, as if a cosmic storm had descended upon the battlefield. No matter how fast the divine horse galloped, it was no match for the relentless fury of the storm. The chariot was pulled backward, sucked into Narasimha's massive mouth.

Surya's face contorted in despair, his fists clenched as he realized the hopelessness of their situation.

Ahhh! I hate the lack of horsepower!

The scene unfolded before the Devas of Brahmaloka, who watched in stunned silence. Their faces were frozen in shock, their eyes wide with disbelief. The air was thick with a sense of dread, as though the very fabric of reality was on the verge of unraveling.

"He shouldn't be able to come to Brahmaloka, right?" Agni spoke up, his voice tinged with unease.

Chapter Text

Narasimha opened his massive jaws, baring razor-sharp teeth and glistening fangs. Tilting his head back, he unleashed a wild, earth-shaking roar.

Waves of divine power surged within his monstrous form, radiating outward as invisible ripples. The Svargas trembled under sheer force; stars crumbled from the heavens, the human world quaked violently, and even the fabric of the universe began to fray.

Having devoured Surya, the Sun itself, Narasimha's power swelled to terrifying new heights. The deadly poison of Halahala, feared by all creation, seemed insignificant in his presence, suppressed by his overwhelming might.

"Raaawwrrrrr!!!" The deafening sound reverberated across realms.

But his hunger remained insatiable. He craved more. He needed more.

Saliva dripped from his fangs like a torrential river, pooling beneath him as his fiery red eyes blazed with unholy hunger. Like twin suns, they scanned the vast expanse, seeking traces of the Devas. His beastly instincts flared as he detected their presence, and his lips curled into a feral snarl.

"SPIT THEM OUT!" Indra's commanding voice thundered from behind him, brimming with righteous anger. Indra's roar echoed across Svarga, reverberating through the skies, shaking the heavens, and forcing even Narasimha to pause.

Narasimha's fur bristled, each strand standing on end like a startled predator. Panic flickered briefly in his eyes before he whipped around, looking like a lion caught off guard. Then, like a great cat bristling in defiance, his divine energy exploded outward, setting the air ablaze with scorching flames.

In an instant, he shot upward, propelled by sheer fury and instinct.

The sweet, tantalizing scent of prey wafted through the air, and his sharp senses honed in on it. His lips curled back, and a guttural growl escaped his throat as he flew faster, his speed reaching unimaginable levels.

There! He had found it—the perfect prey, easier to devour and far more tempting than the spiked thorn in his path. The so-called thorn could wait; Narasimha would feast first.

With an unyielding hunger and a determination to consume all, Narasimha streaked across the skies like a blazing comet, heading straight for Brahmaloka. His confidence surged. He was no longer afraid.

Fear? Narasimha laughed inwardly. Fear is for the weak.

A fiery stream of light, he tore through the cosmos, unstoppable in his quest for destruction and dominance.

…

The Devas stood frozen in shock and terror.

All eyes were locked on the luminous mirror, where the monstrous form of Narasimha loomed, his image crackling with divine energy. It felt like the lion god could leap out of the reflection at any moment.

"Narasimha is coming!"

Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom!

The pounding of their hearts echoed like a chorus of celestial drums—the "Damaru Drum" itself, heralding impending doom. Wide-eyed and pale, the Devas exchanged helpless glances, their expressions a mixture of horror and despair.

"Lord Brahma!"

Rishi Brihaspati turned abruptly, his hands clasped in desperation as he prayed to the Creator. His voice quivered with urgency.

The other Devas quickly followed suit, bowing their heads and pressing their palms together, their pleas weak and trembling. Their fear was palpable, and their once-divine confidence was reduced to pitiful fragility.

Brahma sat in uneasy silence.

He couldn't deny that he relished the adoration of the Devas, their prayers sweet as nectar to his ears. But this? This was beyond even his vast capabilities. How was a retired creator supposed to stop an unstoppable Narasimha?

"Should I curse him?" Brahma muttered under his breath, unsure if even that would suffice.

As if in response to his hesitation, the very foundations of Brahmaloka trembled violently.

Brahma's hands shook as he grasped his sacred kettle, the holy water within nearly spilling over. His face twisted in shock and fear as an earsplitting roar shattered the skies.

From below, Narasimha surged upward, his divine form growing to colossal proportions. His mountainous body loomed over Brahmaloka like a shadow of doom.

"Raaawwrrrrr!!!"

The furious roar erupted like a storm, the vibrations tearing through the heavens. The Devas fell to their knees, unable to withstand the overwhelming waves of sound.

Narasimha's maw opened wide, his bloodstained fangs glinting like the edges of a black hole. The suction force that emanated from his mouth was indescribable, dragging Devas and Rishis alike into the abyss.

"NO!" The cry echoed among the ranks of the celestial beings as chaos broke loose.

The Gandharva armies, once valiant and proud, were swept away like leaves in a gale. One by one, they hurtled into the gaping jaws of Narasimha, disappearing as if consumed by a voracious whirlpool.

Even Rahu, the mischievous Asura, found himself caught in the chaos. His black smoke form twisted and writhed, desperately trying to resist the pull.

"I'm not even a deva—I'm an Asura!" Rahu screamed in panic. "This is a mistake! I am the one who swallows Surya and Chandra. Not the the other way around."

Thud!

A stray Gandharva warrior collided with Rahu's head, sending it spinning like a top.

"W-wait!" Rahu stammered, dazed as his vision blurred and stars danced before his eyes. His body coiled instinctively, but it was too late. With a final, comical tumble, he was sucked into the gaping maw of Narasimha, vanishing into the void.

The last echoes of his protests were drowned out by Narasimha's triumphant, guttural roar. The destruction of Brahmaloka had begun.

"Ahhhhh!"

Agni screamed, his fiery aura flickering wildly as he was swallowed whole by Narasimha's colossal jaws. The fire god barely had time to react before vanishing into the darkness.

"Help!"

Varuna's desperate cry echoed briefly before he too was pulled into the gaping maw, his watery form swirling into oblivion.

Vayu lowered his head against the relentless pull of the suction. Gale-force winds whipped around him as he summoned all his power to resist. His legs moved in a blur, spinning like a wheel as he sprinted across the celestial plains, desperate to escape the beast's hunger.

Roar!

Narasimha inhaled deeply, the air itself bending to his will. The devouring force surged, and Vayu was dragged backward, his resistance failing. He spun helplessly in midair, a leaf caught in a merciless storm.

Beside him, Soma, the moon god, was swept up as well.

"Father! Help me!"

Soma's voice cracked with terror, his face pale and contorted in fear. He flailed against the rushing wind, his silvery glow dimming as he was pulled closer to Narasimha's gaping maw. He reached out, his fingers trembling, grasping at nothingness.

"Soma!"

Rishi Atri stood rooted in place, his wooden staff clutched tightly in one hand. He stretched his free hand toward his son, his voice raw with anguish.

But it was too late. Soma, his cries swallowed by the howling winds, was dragged into Narasimha's mouth and consumed.

"SOMA!"

A cry of unimaginable grief echoed through the very fabric of the cosmos. Rishi Atri's voice trembled, filled with sorrow. His hand reached desperately into the vast, empty void where his beloved son had vanished, his fingers grasping at the space where once there had been warmth and life. His eyes, wide with despair, flickered with a deep, unfathomable loss.

...

Long ago, Tridevi Saraswati, Lakshmi, and Parvati sat together, discussing devotion and virtue. Each goddess, devoted to her divine husband, believed that no woman could surpass them in chastity and piety. As their conversation deepened, they turned to Narada Muni known for his wisdom and who fared Triloka more than anyone else.

Narada smiled knowingly and said, "Devio, while your devotion is immeasurable, there is one among mortals whose purity and faith shine even above the gods—Anasuya, the wife of Rishi Atri."

Intrigued by Narada's words, the goddesses shared this with their husbands—Brahma, Vishnu, and Shiva. The Trimurti, curious to see the truth for themselves, decided to test Anasuya's devotion. Disguising themselves as wandering sages, they descended to Earth and arrived at her ashram.

Anasuya, known for her boundless kindness and unwavering faith, welcomed the sages with great hospitality, unaware of their true identities. But their request was unusual—one that sought to challenge her virtue.

The three sages told her that as part of their tradition, they could only accept food from her if she served them unclothed. This was a test unlike any other, meant to see if her chastity and dharma would waver under pressure.

Anasuya, calm and devoted as ever, did not falter. She closed her eyes, meditated on her husband, and with her divine purity, transformed the three sages into infant children. Now, as helpless babies, they no longer had any ill intentions.

When Sage Atri returned home, he instantly recognized the divine presence in his house. Understanding what had happened, he prayed, and the Trimurti regained their original forms. Brahma, Vishnu, and Shiva, now humbled and in awe, praised Anasuya's unshakable devotion and offered her a boon.

The Trinity's blessing came in an unimaginable form. As a reward for Anasuya's steadfast love and devotion, the three gods—Brahma, Vishnu, and Shiva—transformed themselves into infants. Anasuya, with her heart filled with maternal love, nurtured them as her own, offering them the warmth and affection of a mother's embrace for the first time. It was said that this act of pure, selfless love humbled the gods, bringing them closer to the human experience than they had ever been before.

Moved by this unparalleled devotion, the Trimurti bestowed upon the couple a gift beyond compare—children born of their divine power. Each of the three gods imbued a part of themselves into the children that would soon grace the earth.

Soma, the moon god, was born to Anasuya, a reflection of Brahma's divine wisdom and cosmic grace. Dattatreya, a fusion of Vishnu's nurturing compassion and boundless power, was given as a gift to Atri and his wife. Lastly, the fiery Durvasa, known for his temper and immense aesthetic power, was born as a fragment of Shiva's essence.

...

But now, that bond had been shattered. The grief that overwhelmed Atri's heart was a reflection of the tragic reality that even the divine cannot escape fate. His son, Soma had been torn away from him, leaving only an aching emptiness in the space where once there had been life and light. The Rishi's mind raced through the memories of those blissful moments—the days when the gods, humbled by their own experience, had shared their divine power through his beloved children.

"SOMA!!!"

Grief turned to fury. Rishi Atri's chest heaved as he clutched his staff with both hands, his knuckles white with rage. His gaze lifted to Narasimha, and his eyes burned with righteous anger.

"Narasimha!!!"

His voice thundered like a storm, cutting through the chaos. The Rishi's power, honed through centuries of penance, surged to its peak. The air around him crackled as his fury transformed into a binding curse.

"I curse you!" he roared, his voice trembling with divine authority.

"As you have forgotten the balance of the world today, so too shall you forget yourself. One day, your divine nature will fade from your mind, and you will lose the very essence of who you are. You shall wander, lost, in the world you once loved!"

He raised his staff high, the wood glowing with the energy of his resolve. A fiery rope of karmic power burst forth, lashing out at Narasimha with the force of the curse.

The skies trembled, and the celestial realms shuddered as the curse took hold, binding itself to Narasimha with an unbreakable chain of fate.

Rishi Atri's form was flung into the air, pulled helplessly toward Narasimha's gaping, bloodied mouth. Without hesitation, the lion god devoured him whole.

"Raaawwrrrrr!!!"

The roar of Narasimha reverberated through the realms, shaking the very foundation of the heavens. One by one, the Devas and Rishis were swallowed into his massive belly, their fate sealed by the beast's insatiable hunger.

Uh-huh!

Narasimha's scarlet, beastly eyes turned, locking onto Brahma. The sight sent a chill through the creator god, his gaze widening in disbelief. Beside him, Devi Sarasvati's expression faltered, her mouth slightly agape in concern.

"We must leave, quickly!" Brahma urged, his voice steady despite the chaos.

Without another word, Brahma raised his hand, and with a silent prayer, he and Goddess Sarasvati vanished from Brahmaloka, retreating from the horrors unfolding before them.

"Raaawwrrrrr!!!"

Narasimha threw his head back and roared in triumph, his chest thundering as he beat his fists against it in a rhythm that sounded like the beat of a war drum. The sound reverberated across the three worlds, a triumphant declaration of his victory.

The Devas had all been consumed, their struggle futile against his overwhelming might. The question now was:

Who else?

"Nara! Simha!!!"

A familiar roar sliced through the air, interrupting Narasimha's victory cry.

Ouch!

Narasimha recoiled, his neck jerking in surprise. His eyes snapped to the source of the disturbance, and there, in a flash, Sudarshan Chakra whirled toward him, its sparks trailing like a comet's tail.

Before Narasimha could react, the Sudarshan Chakra struck him squarely in the forehead. His beastly eyes widened in shock, and the divine wheel seemed to expand within his gaze, magnifying the pain tenfold. A violent surge of agony coursed through his body as the divine weapon split his forehead, sending sparks flying in all directions.

Roar!!!

Narasimha howled in torment, shaking his head violently to dislodge the assault. His sharp claws lashed out, swiping at the spinning wheel, and with a mighty swipe, he managed to knock the Sudarshan Chakra away.

Clutching his head, Narasimha's fury surged. He shot forward like a streak of light, racing toward the horizon.

"This direction… Kailash!"

Indra's voice rang out, commanding. "Chase!"

The battle was far from over.

Chapter Text

Kailash

In a sacred and tranquil realm, the skies stretched endlessly, the clouds as pristine as snow, and the sky mirrored the azure depths of the sea.

Suspended in this celestial expanse stood Mount Kailash, its snowy peaks reaching toward infinity. Vast and eternal, it was the sanctum of ascetics and the abode of the Mahatmas. Here, countless Rishis and seekers followed the path of self-realization, Brahman, and enlightenment, their lives dedicated to ascetic devotion.

Suddenly, a deafening roar shattered the serene atmosphere.

"Raaawwrrrrr!!!"

The thunderous cry of a lion reverberated through the heavens, drawing every eye and heart toward its source.

Rishi Dadhichi emerged from the meditative forest, his tranquil expression giving way to urgency. Clad in a simple orange robe with his chest bare, his determined eyes locked on the approaching figure of Narasimha. The beast tore through the skies, his mane wild, his mouth drooling, and his presence radiating an insatiable hunger for destruction.

"Something is terribly wrong!" Dadhichi exclaimed, his voice steady but filled with dread. He turned to his fellow ascetics. "Go! Inform the ganas at once!"

But before the warning could be delivered to Shiva Ganas, Narasimha landed at the base of Mount Kailash. His colossal form loomed, his feral eyes scanning the holy grounds. He could sense a powerful force—a divine energy—emanating from within. Bloodlust coursed through him, his thoughts consumed by a singular purpose: devour and destroy.

"Raaawwrrrrr!!!"

The beast roared again, advancing with heavy, deliberate steps. His movement ceased abruptly as he glanced down, noticing an ant-sized figure blocking his path.

There stood Rishi Dadhichi, his staff in hand, resolute and unyielding despite the towering menace before him.

Narasimha let out a guttural growl, his leonine eyes blazing with unrestrained wrath. Without a second thought, he raised his massive foot and delivered a brutal kick. The impact sent Dadhichi hurtling through the air, his cry of pain echoing across the sacred mountain.

The sage's body hit the ground with a sickening thud, lifeless but not broken in spirit. Even as his breaths faltered, his lips moved in silent prayer, calling upon the Lord of Kailash.

"O Mahadeva," Dadhichi whispered, his voice barely audible over the howling winds.

The earth quaked beneath the lion's ferocity but then came a sound—a resonating, primal vibration.

At the summit of Mount Kailash, Shiva opened his eyes. His crimson eyes blazed with fury, his grip tightening on the Trishula. The divine weapon trembled in his grasp, and the mountain itself reverberated with his wrath. Each strike of his trident sent waves of destruction cascading across the trilogy.

The rhythm carried by the furious vibrations rippled through the Tri Loka, unleashing chaos. Oceans surged into violent storms, the earth split into gaping chasms, and volcanoes erupted with unrelenting ferocity. Even the distant planets in the cosmic expanse succumbed to Shiva's rage, shattering into fiery fragments.

The cosmos bore witness to an unparalleled truth: Shiva was enraged.

Rishi Dadhichi, a devoted follower of Lord Shiva, had spent countless years in ascetic practice on Mount Kailash, the sacred abode of his lord. His unwavering devotion was legendary, but even his piety was not enough to shield him from the fury of Narasimha, who had descended upon Kailash with violent intent.

The sage was struck down by the enraged Narasimha, his defeat echoing like a thunderclap across the holy mountain. This act of sacrilege awakened Shiva's wrath.

Shiva's crimson eyes blazed with fury, his Trishula trembling in his right hand, sending resonant vibrations through Kailash. The mountain itself seemed to hum with the rhythm of his anger.

Without a word, Shiva reached behind his head with his left hand, pulling a single strand of jet-black hair. With deliberate force, he hurled it to the ground.

"Ha!"

The strand shimmered as it fell, radiating the destructive divinity of Shiva. Upon touching the earth, it transformed into a towering blue giant wreathed in golden light. His wild hair and beard framed a visage of primal ferocity, and a garland of human skulls adorned his neck.

Bhairava.

This was Shiva's incarnation of pure wrath, a form that had once obliterated Prajapati Daksha and now sought to quell the chaos unleashed by Narasimha. Bhairava charged forward, clashing with the half-lion, half-man avatar in a cataclysmic battle.

Explosions tore through the heavens as their struggle shook the Tri Loka, drawing the attention of the divine. Goddess Lakshmi and Parvati appeared, their watchful eyes fixed on the clash of these mighty forces.

Moments later, Brahma and Saraswati arrived, their forms glowing with divine radiance as they stood near Shiva.

"Mahadev," Saraswati began, her voice steady yet urgent, "Narasimha's fury remains unchecked. With every act of destruction, his strength only multiplies. If this continues, and should Bhairava confront him without restraint, the universe itself may face annihilation. Lord Vishnu would not wish for such devastation. Neither a single Deva nor an avatar alone can pacify Narasimha. Only the union of man, beast, and bird may succeed in restoring balance."

Shiva listened in silence, his anger smoldering beneath his calm exterior. Slowly, he raised his hand once more. Another strand of hair was pulled and thrown to the earth.

From this Jatta emerged Sharabheshvara, a formidable incarnation. With the head of a lion atop a human body, four muscular arms, a lion's torso and limbs, and immense bird-like wings that shimmered with divine light, he embodied the fusion of man, beast, and bird.

Bhairava stepped back, bowing respectfully to Sharabheshvara, and vanished from the battlefield, leaving the path clear.

Sharabheshvara spread his wings wide, the golden light of Shiva's essence emanating from his form. With a single powerful flap, he crossed the vast space between himself and Narasimha in an instant. His claws struck with divine precision, pinning Narasimha to the ground.

"Raaawwrrrrr!!!" Narasimha's roar echoed through the Kailash, a sound so powerful that it shook the very foundations of the Tri Loka. The planets trembled, and rivers of molten lava erupted from the cracks in the earth.

Despite the chaos, the Sharabheshvara opened its massive mouth, its fangs gleaming with an otherworldly ferocity. It roared in response, not backing down in the slightest.

A golden light flared behind it, and the figure of Mahadeva, Lord Shiva himself, materialized in the radiance, his presence meant to awaken Narasimha from his bloodlust. But—

"Rawwrrrrr!!!" Narasimha's roar only grew louder, his heart brimming with bloodlust and rage, drowning out all attempts at reason.

"Even if the sky was falling down it cannot wake Vishnu," Brahma muttered, his voice tinged with despair.

"Nath, this is not good!" Sarasvati's voice was filled with concern, her brows furrowing as she observed the growing destruction. Her eyes met Brahma's, worry etching her beautiful features. "If this continues, Narasimha and Sharabheshvara attacks will only grow stronger. Is the world truly going to be destroyed?"

Brahma blinked, his thoughts momentarily distracted by the weight of her words. The possibility of the world's end struck him with an odd sense of panic. If the world is destroyed... will I be forced to create it all over again? Only to watch it crumble again? He shuddered at the thought. No! I can't let that happen!

Shiva stood silent, his brow furrowed in deep concentration, the air around him heavy with his brooding thoughts. Beside him, Parvati was even more bewildered. My brother and my husband... at odds, fighting to the brink of destroying the universe. What can I do now?

Meanwhile, in the vast sea of milk, Goddess Lakshmi watched from afar, her face etched with concern. Her hands were clasped tightly in prayer, her heart reaching out to her husband in the hopes that he would regain control.

"Hari, you must wake up!" Lakshmi whispered urgently, her prayer a silent plea to the heavens.

At that moment, Indra finally arrived on the battlefield. He took one look at the terrifying destruction wreaked by the battle between Narasimha and Sharabheshvara, and his steps faltered. Narasimha had grown stronger, and the sheer force of his presence was overwhelming. Indra, powerful as he was, hesitated to approach the battlefield.

The power of Narasimha could not harm him—no, the true danger lay in the aftermath of Sharabheshvara's attacks. It would be far too humiliating to be knocked down by the aftershocks of another one of those earth-shattering blows.

Indra stood at a distance, watching. But as he did, he realized that the Narasimha had noticed him too.

"Roar!!!" The Narasimha let out a ferocious bellow, like a cornered beast, and in a flash, turned and fled from the Sharabheshvara's grasp.

The Sharabheshvara, ever swift, seized the opportunity to lunge forward. With a powerful motion, it gripped Narasimha's arms, twisted them behind his back, and bound them tightly in a vice-like hold.

Shiva, his eyes narrowed with sharp focus, spoke through the chaos. "Indra, Narasimha cannot harm you. My Sharabheshvara incarnation cannot hold him for much longer. Go now and try to awaken him."

Indra stood frozen, his mouth slightly agape. He glanced from the towering peaks of Kailash to the writhing Narasimha, a look of disbelief crossing his features. He was willing to join the battle, to help subdue the beast, but how was he supposed to know how to awaken Vishnu's presence within Narasimha?

"Awaken him?" Indra questioned, a trace of uncertainty in his voice.

"Go," Shiva's voice urged, firm but laced with urgency. "My avatar cannot do it now. It is up to you."

Indra hesitated but then nodded. He gazed at the furious Narasimha, who was thrashing violently, and slowly began to step forward. The eyes of Shiva, Brahma, Sarasvati, and the devas watched him intently, their gazes heavy with expectation, concern, and silent hope.

As Indra walked toward Narasimha, the roars grew louder, each one more destructive than the last, reverberating across the battlefield like a storm of fury. The very air seemed to vibrate with the force of Narasimha's anger. If they weren't on Kailash, it was likely that the entire mountain range would have erupted in response.

Indra paused, surveying the beast, his gaze sharp and calculating. He moved his eyes from side to side, sensing something, something that was hidden beneath the surface of Narasimha's rage. Then, in a moment of understanding, a smile tugged at the corners of his lips.

"Did you forget me so soon?" Indra asked, his voice steady, his confidence slowly rising.

Chapter Text

"Did you forget me so soon?"

The words echoed in the air, heavy with the weight of certainty.

Narasimha's fury erupted instantly. He bared his teeth, claws extended, struggling against the restraint of the Sharabheshvara. His roar ripped through the atmosphere, the sound waves carrying with them the terrifying power to obliterate everything in their path.

The very air around Kailash trembled, the ground shaking as if it might collapse beneath the force of Narasimha's rage. The force of his roar was so overwhelming that it felt as if the world itself might break apart.

But Indra, shielded by the blessings upon him, remained untouched. The might of Narasimha could not harm him in the slightest.

"You're scared," Indra said, his voice steady with an undercurrent of certainty.

He fixed his gaze on the roaring beast, no longer hesitating. He strode forward, moving closer to the immense figure of Narasimha and the Sharabheshvara. Despite his own comparatively small stature—he looked like little more than an ant before the mighty lion-man—Indra's voice rang out with a quiet confidence.

"Anger comes from fear, and fear comes from the unknown," he declared, his tone unwavering. "You're afraid of me."

His words carried the weight of truth, and for a moment, the roaring Narasimha seemed to falter. The beast's vicious bellow softened as if the weight of those words had struck a chord.

Indra continued, undeterred. "You don't know why you can't hurt me," he said solemnly. "But you're afraid of what you don't understand."

The anger within Narasimha flared anew. The lion's head shook violently, and the force of his struggle sent shockwaves through the battlefield. The Sharabheshvara, though mighty, struggled to maintain its hold.

"No!" Narasimha roared, his mane and beard whipping about in the frenzy of his fury. His bloodshot eyes glared at Indra, and his growl was one of pure, unrestrained rage. He opened his bloody maw, bellowing a threatening challenge.

But Indra saw through him.

With a calm smile, Indra raised a single finger, pointing directly at Narasimha. His voice rang out, slow and deliberate, each word weighted with the authority of one who had seen through the beast's anger.

"Since you want to know," he said, his voice carrying the certainty of someone who understood far more than he let on, "I'll tell you why you can't hurt me."

Narasimha's growls paused as if waiting for the answer, his fury momentarily subdued by curiosity.

Indra leaned forward, eyes gleaming with purpose.

"Because," he said, his voice full of finality, "there's someone above me."

He paused for effect, allowing the words to sink in.

"And just like you can't harm me," Indra continued with a smile, "you can never defeat this person."

At the sound of Indra's words, Narasimha's bloodshot eyes locked onto him with an intensity that could burn through the stone. His bloody mouth gaped open in a furious roar.

"Who is he?!" Narasimha howled, his voice seething with rage that could obliterate everything in its path. His thirst for destruction surged; he wanted nothing more than to tear this man apart, to annihilate everything around him.

Indra stood unshaken, his expression gentle, a serene smile playing on his lips. He spread his arms wide as if embracing the very world itself, welcoming the challenge.

"Vishnu," he said simply.

The name echoed through Kailash, reverberating in the ears of all the great Devas.

"Vishnu! Vishnu! Vishnu!" Indra's voice rang out, carrying the weight of divinity itself.

For a moment, Narasimha froze, his blood-red gaze softening as the fury in his eyes began to fade.

"Ain't that Truth," murmured Lord Shiva, a smile curling on his lips as he nodded approvingly.

Shiva raised his trident gently, causing Kailash to tremble as the destructive music that had filled the air shifted into something more harmonious. What had once been a cacophony of rage became a soothing, auspicious melody, echoing peacefully throughout the land.

The once-chaotic vibrations turned into a rhythm of calm, reverberating across Kailash.

Narasimha, who had been thrashing in his madness, now fell silent, his mighty roar quieted.

Brahma's eyes brightened as he watched, nodding in approval. "As expected... someone who has gleaned something from Vedas," he murmured, understanding the power of the words that had pierced through Narasimha's rage.

Sarasvati watched Indra with a knowing smile, her gaze warm and approving, as a mother might look at a son who had expertly solved a crisis.

Lakshmi, too, exhaled with relief, her eyes glistening with joy as she looked toward Narasimha, her heart at peace.

For a moment, all was quiet.

Then, with a soft, confused roar, Narasimha opened his mouth again, as if unsure of what had just happened. He stood still, dazed on the ground.

A golden light began to emanate from his body, flowing outward like the first rays of spring melting the last remnants of winter's chill. It was a slow process, but a process nonetheless.

However...

Indra chuckled softly, his smile widening. "Lord, let me help you," he said, the playful tone in his voice unmistakable.

He stepped to the side, his posture regal and commanding. With a flick of his wrist, his right hand spread wide, and in an instant, a vajra materialized in his grasp.

The vajra, with its four sharp corners and countless teeth, appeared like a giant hammer in his hand. It blazed with divine brilliance, casting a radiant light that rivaled the sun itself.

"If you dare to eat my brothers," Indra said, his voice steady but laced with power, "I'll give you something you won't forget."

The energy surrounding Indra crackled, and the vajra pulsed with overwhelming force as it glowed brighter, ready to intervene if needed.

Indra seized the vajra, his grip firm and unyielding, and took a powerful stride forward. With a leap that seemed to defy gravity, he soared through the air, his figure illuminated by a brilliance that shone like a thousand suns, crackling with sparks and lightning.

In one fluid motion, he propelled himself higher, leaping over Narasimha's massive form, and flying directly in front of the great lion. The vajra, now enveloped in a storm of thunder and lightning, hummed with untold power, releasing a roar that shook the very foundations of Kailash.

"Wake up!" Indra's voice rang out, commanding and full of divine authority.

With both hands, he raised the vajra high above his head and, with a fierce cry, brought it crashing down onto Narasimha's skull.

Boom!

The impact was like a thunderclap, a deafening clang that echoed across Kailash—resonant, as if a drum had sounded at evening and a bell had tolled at dawn. The ground trembled in response to the sheer force.

Narasimha's massive head jolted slightly, but the lion did not falter.

Indra's hand moved in a blur, slapping the lion's face with divine speed. His armor glowed with intense blue light, the radiance shimmering as it absorbed the destructive energy coursing through Narasimha's body.

Narasimha's body twitched violently as if fighting the very force that sought to calm him.

From the lion's bloodied mouth, a dark, poisonous mist, like the coils of a naga serpent, began to spill out. It slithered through the air, but the divine armor responded in kind. Brilliant light flashed as it absorbed the venom, returning it to the earth from which it came.

Indra's eyes narrowed, watching the deepening blue of Narasimha's face with a solemn focus. The Halahala poison had been absorbed, yet the lion's face remained a stark, unsettling shade of blue—its depth hinting at the lingering corruption.

Boom!

Indra descended from the air with a fluid motion, his feet hitting the earth with a reverberating thud. The golden light surrounding Narasimha continued to intensify, shimmering and pulsating as if the very essence of life was being restored.

From the swirling golden radiance, a shape began to emerge. It took the form of a figure, graceful and regal—the image of Vishnu, the eternal protector of the world. The figure of Vishnu shimmered within the light, a presence that seemed to lift the very atmosphere of Kailash.

Great joy filled the air as the figure of Vishnu solidified, bringing an overwhelming sense of peace and renewal.

Shiva watched the manifestation of Vishnu with a smile playing on his lips, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction.

Brahma, his gaze fixed upon the newly formed figure, finally let out a sigh of relief.

Sarasvati, her eyes glowing with approval, smiled softly as she gazed at the returning Vishnu, her heart filled with admiration.

The battle was over. The divine balance had been restored.

…

In the Sea of Milk, Goddess Lakshmi stood with a gentle smile gracing her lips. Her beautiful eyes sparkled as she blinked, her white hands pressed delicately against her chest, lost in a sea of thoughts that danced in her heart.

"Nath is finally awake…" she thought, a feeling of warmth and joy flooding her being. "I think I'll pick some stars from the Akasha Ganga and weave them into a bracelet for him. A surprise, just for him."

Her heart swelled with happiness at the thought of it.

Suddenly, a powerful gust of wind signaled the arrival of Garuda. With a graceful flap of his mighty wings, he landed before Goddess Lakshmi, his expression filled with excitement.

"Mother!" he exclaimed, his eyes shining with joy. "Are you going to see the Prabhu? I will escort you!"

His voice was full of eager anticipation, clearly as happy as she was to see Vishnu.

Goddess Lakshmi's eyes sparkled playfully, a soft smile tugging at her lips as she shook her head. "No need, Garuda," she said gently. "I'll go on my own."

Her words were light, her smile radiant as she walked briskly, her heart fluttering with the thought of the surprise she had planned for Vishnu. She was already imagining the beautiful stars she would pick from the sea and craft into a bracelet—an offering of love for her beloved.

…

Back in Kailash, Vishnu had finally returned, bringing with him a wave of tranquility.

Narasimha, the fierce lion, had regained his sanity. Ugra Narasimha became the peaceful Soumya Narasimha. He opened his mouth wide, and a powerful gust of wind erupted from it, followed by a wave of Devas who had been swallowed in his fury.

Whoosh!

In a spectacular display, many Devas, Rishis, Apsaras, and Gandharvas tumbled out of Narasimha's mouth, each of them looking bewildered and shaken. The darkened air buzzed with their presence, and a murmur of shock and disbelief rippled through the crowd.

Had Narasimha, the incarnation of the Protector, truly regained his sanity?

With reverence, Narasimha slowly clasped his hands together and bowed. "Pranam," he said, his voice steady yet filled with awe.

Vishnu smiled softly at him, his presence as calm and powerful as ever. He raised his hand, pointing toward Narasimha's head.

From it, a ball of sky-blue light—pure and dazzling, like a brilliant diamond—floated into the air. It shimmered brightly, its light casting an icy glow that sparkled like a star.

The Devas and Rishis watched in wonder, their eyes wide with curiosity. What was this light? And what did it mean?

The silence that followed was filled with unspoken questions, but Vishnu remained serene, his smile the only answer they needed.

Chapter Text

The sapphire-like light flickered, its brilliance filling the air. Vishnu extended his hand, connecting with the radiant blue orb. He turned his palm upward, and the light hovered above it, glowing with a mysterious energy.

"This," Vishnu said, his voice deep and resonant, "comes from Hiranyakashipu and Narasimha—the combined anger and arrogance of both."

He paused, his gaze firm and resolute. "Now that I have extracted it, I will send it to the Akash Ganga. Let the pure light of the stars cleanse it."

With a flick of his finger, the light shot through the void, racing out of Kailash toward the distant stars that twinkled in the night sky.

The Devas watched in awe, the truth dawning on them.

"So this is what happened," Surya murmured in understanding. "The Lord has returned, and Narasimha has calmed down. But why did the avatar of Vishnu transform into Ugra Narasimha?"

Just then, the presence of Shiva, Brahma, and the Sarasvati materialized before the gathered Devas.

"Pranam to the Mahadev!" the Devas chanted in unison, bowing low in reverence.

"Pranam to Brahmadev!"

"Pranam to the Devi Sarasvati!"

The Devas and Rishis clasped their hands together in respectful prayer, their heads bowed in admiration. Shiva remained silent, walking forward with purpose. The Devas parted in reverence as he made his way to the sage Rishi Dadhichi, who lay on the ground.

"Pranam Mahadev!" Dadhichi called out, his voice tinged with regret. "Lord, my bones are broken. Forgive me for not being able to stand and offer my Pranam."

Rishi Dadhichi raised his head, clasping his hands, a faint sorrow in his eyes. It pained him that his body, broken in service, prevented him from giving his full homage to the Lord.

"Rishi Dadhichi," Shiva spoke gently, his voice warm with compassion. "You were injured while protecting Kailash. I will bless you, and your bones will be indestructible."

With a smile, Shiva raised his right hand.

Whoosh!

Golden light erupted from his palm, cascading down upon Rishi Dadhichi. The light flowed into his body, filling him with a new, radiant vitality. Dadhichi's eyes widened with surprise, and he leaped to his feet, his body infused with divine energy.

"Pranam to the Svarga!" he cried, his voice filled with astonishment and gratitude. He bowed deeply, stamping his feet in joy.

Witnessing this, Indra's heart stirred. He raised his Vajra, watching closely as Rishi Dadhichi stood, marveling at the sage's transformation.

Wait... Indra thought, narrowing his eyes. Isn't Rishi Dadhichi the future Vajra, the weapon I will wield?

Indra blinked, his thoughts swirling like storm clouds over the battlefield. If memory served him correctly, the fate of Svarga had always been shaped by cycles of conflict and betrayal, and many of them had stemmed from his fraught relationship with Tvashtr, the divine craftsman.

Tvashtr, the celestial shaper of forms, was no ordinary artisan. He was the one who had forged Indra's Vajra, the thunderbolt that could shatter mountains, from the bones of the sage Dadhichi. But his influence stretched far beyond craftsmanship. He was the preparer of Soma, the sacred elixir of the devas, and through his daughter, Saranyu, an ancestor of humans. Even so, despite all he had given, despite all he had created, Tvashtr and Indra had never seen eye to eye.

The tension between them had been brewing for an eternity. It all started with the Soma Ras. Tvashtr had feared Indra's hunger for power and had barred him from partaking in a great yajna, keeping the divine elixir from his reach. But Indra had never been one to accept denial. He had stormed the sacred rites, his presence like a tempest, and stolen the Soma Ras with the sheer audacity that only the king of the Devas could possess. The golden liquid had burned down his throat, filling him with power, with divinity, with an undeniable high. And in that moment, he had felt unstoppable.

But the theft had been the spark that set their enmity ablaze.

It was Vishvarupa, Tvashtr's son, who had escalated things further. Vishvarupa, the three-headed priest, had served the Devas, chanting mantras, offering oblations, and guiding their yajnas. But even as he poured Soma for them, he whispered prayers for the Asuras—his mother's kin, his secret allegiance. When Indra learned the truth, his fury had been absolute.

There had been no trial. No deliberation. No mercy.

With a single strike of the Vajra, Vishvarupa's three heads had been severed from his shoulders, each one cursed to take a new form—one as a sparrow, one as a partridge, and the last as a pigeon. The ground had been soaked in divine blood, and with it, Indra had sealed his fate.

The weight of Brahma-hatya descended upon him like a great darkness. Even the heavens recoiled from him. The air had turned heavy, the cosmic balance disturbed by his act. And so, Indra had fled, abandoning his throne, seeking penance for a crime the cosmos would not forgive so easily.

But Tvashtr had not forgiven either.

Enraged at the death of his son, he had called upon his power, shaping his vengeance with his own hands. With fire and mantra, with wrath and sorrow, he had forged a new being—one that would crush Indra, that would erase him from the heavens.

Vritra.

A beast of impossible strength, a serpent vast enough to coil around the world, a demon whose very existence defied the Devas. He had swallowed the celestial waters, choking the world in drought. The Devas had trembled before him, powerless, broken.

Indra, still reeling from his self-imposed exile, had been helpless. For the first time, the king of the Devas had been defeated.

But fate had a way of favoring the bold.

Tvashtr had made a single mistake—a flaw, so small, so subtle, buried within the very incantation that had birthed Vritra. The words that should have made the demon invincible had instead left him vulnerable, just enough for Indra to find his opening. Guided by Vishnu's wisdom, wielding the Vajra once more, he had struck down Vritra, reclaiming his throne and his honor.

The memory of this conflict lingered in Indra's mind, shaping his thoughts about the present and future. His grip on the Vajra tightened as he reflected on the recurring theme of betrayal and vengeance.

As his mind continued to spiral, Indra quickly shook his head, dismissing these thoughts. That's all in the future, he reminded himself. Tvashtr won't cause trouble... not yet, at least.

He let out a deep breath. And if anything happens, I'll be ready. If I train hard enough, Vritra won't be able to touch me. At worst, I'll handle whatever comes my way, and the Trimurti will have my back.

Indra's gaze shifted to Rishi Dadhichi, who stood nearby. I won't let anyone else make unnecessary sacrifices, he resolved. If things go awry, the Trimurti will handle it, but I'll be prepared to run if I need to.

As these thoughts swirled in his mind, the Narasimha, still standing at a distance, raised his hands in prayer and bowed his head.

Shiva and Brahma nodded in acknowledgment.

Slowly, the Narasimha turned around, his hands clasped together as he looked directly at Indra. Although the poison of Halahala had been purged from his body, the blue tinge still lingered on his lion-like face.

"Pranam Indra!" Narasimha's voice was filled with reverence. "It was your wisdom and strength that calmed me from my rage and protected the entire world. I thank you, great King of Svarga!"

His eyes sparkled with gratitude as he looked up at Indra, his hands still pressed in prayer.

Indra cleared his throat, his chest swelling with pride despite himself. He coughed twice to hide his discomfort. "You're welcome. It's my duty as the King of Svarga," he said with a modest wave.

The Narasimha's slender beard quivered, his expression softening with emotion. "The King of Svarga is so kind."

Indra couldn't help but feel a twinge of embarrassment at the praise, but he kept his composure, determined not to show any weakness. Still, the weight of Narasimha's gratitude hung in the air, and for a brief moment, Indra felt a deep sense of pride.

He clasped his hands together once more and saluted Indra, then transformed into a ray of golden light, soaring through the air before merging into the body of Vishnu, the protector of the world.

The doomsday disaster was finally resolved, and the Devas, filled with relief, celebrated their newfound peace.

Brihaspati, deep in thought, listened intently to the Lord's recounting of the events that had just unfolded. A look of regret crossed his face, for he lamented that he had no eyes outside his body and could not witness the scene firsthand.

He picked up his pen and began to write in the "Life of Indra."

"The Narasimha became enraged, and it was the King of Svarga, with his great wisdom and power, who awakened Narasimha from his fury. Together, they defeated Hiranyakashipu. Thus, they can be called the ones who defeated Hiranyakashipu. And since Narasimha expelled the Devas, leaving his lion's face still blue, he may be referred to as the Green-Faced Lord."

The sage then began to describe Indra. "The King of Svarga, also part of the group that defeated Hiranyakashipu, used his immense wisdom and strength, holding the vajra in his hand, to calm the enraged Narasimha."

He paused, pondering what title to bestow upon Indra.

Rishi Brihaspati recalled the marks on Narasimha's forehead and an idea suddenly flashed through his mind.

"I've got it!"

Quickly, Brihaspati picked up his pen again.

"The King of Svarga, with great wisdom, struck the Narasimha on the head with his vajra, awakening the furious lion-headed Narasimha. Hence, he may be called the 'Awakener of Furious.'"

Rishi Brihaspati continued with a grin, writing, "In future generations, when one encounters an angry person, they may use weapons such as sticks, or hammers to strike their heads and shout at them to awaken their sanity."

This event was witnessed by the great Brihaspati himself, and he assured that there was no falsehood in his words.

Satisfied with his work, Rishi Brihaspati smiled contentedly.

Meanwhile, Sage Rishi Atri arrived at Vishnu's side, his son Soma in tow.

"Lord Vishnu!" Rishi Atri exclaimed, his face etched with regret. "I apologize for the anger I expressed earlier and the curse I laid upon you."

Clasping his hands together, Rishi Atri knelt before Vishnu, his heart heavy with remorse.

Vishnu smiled warmly, raising a hand to gently lift Rishi Atri to his feet. "There is no need to worry," he said, his voice soothing. "All of this is part of karmic consequence. Everything in the world is bound by karma. This, too, is part of the balance that maintains the world. I accept your curse."

His smile never faltered.

"As this disaster has passed and my Vaikuntha has been newly restored, why don't we all gather there? Come, let us meet and celebrate in Vaikuntha."

Vishnu opened his arms in invitation, a warm gesture to the Devas, beckoning them to come together in the serene realm of Vaikuntha.

...

Amidst the vast expanse of the starry sky, Goddess Lakshmi floated gracefully, her hands gently plucking stars as if they were delicate jewels.

Suddenly, a spark of brilliance caught her attention. Her eyes, radiant and full of wonder, blinked in surprise. In the corner of her gaze, she caught a glimpse of a dazzling, sapphire-like light that shimmered with an otherworldly glow.

"Huh?" she murmured, her breath catching.

"So beautiful..." she whispered, captivated by the ethereal light.

Chapter Text

The Akash Ganga stretched out in a deep blue, a sea of stars shimmering like countless diamonds scattered across the heavens. Each star gleamed with its dazzling brilliance, releasing waves of pure, radiant energy that seemed to cleanse the air and renew all living things.

A cluster of blue light flickered, slowly fading into the vastness.

"How strange..."

"Where did that blue sapphire go?"

Goddess Lakshmi's golden sari fluttered as she blinked her delicate eyes, her gaze darting in every direction, searching for the disappearing starlight. She had never seen a star so stunningly blue and unique. It would make a beautiful addition to a bracelet!

She swept her gaze across the sky, unaware that a faint blue aura—almost invisible and on the verge of vanishing—drifted through the air, like a delicate silk ribbon, and gently entered her elegant back.

"What a pity… I can't find it."

Her voice held a soft note of regret. "Only such a beautiful star would be worthy of my best husband in the world!"

With a disappointed shake of her head, her flawless face reflected her dismay.

---

At the edge of the river, Rishi Shukracharya, draped in his flowing white kaashaya, walked slowly, the snake-shaped staff in his hand tapping the earth with each deliberate step. Beside him walked Samhrāda, a young man of average appearance, following in silence.

"Hiranyakashipu is dead too," Rishi Shukracharya spoke slowly, his voice filled with thought.

In the past few hundred years, he had watched as Hiranyakashipu grew more stubborn, nearly mad with his obsession. Eventually, Shukracharya distanced himself from the Asura king, choosing to teach Andhaka and Samhrāda instead.

As for why he hadn't chosen Prahlada, Hiranyakashipu's son—well, that was a matter understood only by those who knew the ways of the world. Prahlada was a devout follower of Vishnu, and Shukracharya, with his allegiances, could never have shared a bond with him.

He is the teacher of Asuras. He only guides an Asura King as a father would guide their children—such differing in beliefs cannot be reconciled.

The two of them came to a stop and gazed toward the center of the river.

The river raged, its waves crashing in a rhythmic fury. Foam billowed upward endlessly, only to be consumed by the shore beneath their feet.

Amid the chaos, Andhaka stood, his eyes covered with a red cloth, his body balanced in the independent stance of a golden rooster, one foot raised as he performed his penance.

"Om Namo Brahmane Namah!"

"Om Namo Brahmane Namah!" he chanted in devotion, his voice echoing across the rolling waters.

…

The faint voice continued to echo from Andhaka's lips, carrying a tone of piety and unwavering confidence. It seemed to stretch on endlessly, as though it could persist forever.

"Teacher, brother… he has been meditating here for seven hundred years. Do you think his hard work will truly bear fruit?" Samhrāda asked, doubt clouding his expression.

Rishi Shukracharya focused his gaze, his eyes steady, and nodded solemnly.

"Don't question your brother's devotion," he said, his voice firm. "Though Andhaka seems to be blind to most, the power hidden within his eyes is extraordinary—far darker and more potent than the golden eyes of Hiranyakashipu. Once this power awakens, it will surpass even that of his father!"

"If you add the blessing of Trimurti Brahma, your eldest brother will have the strength to rule over the entire Tri-Loka."

Samhrāda's eyes widened with disbelief. He couldn't hide the skepticism on his face.

"Is that so?" he muttered, tilting his head in thought.

In his worldview, his father, Hiranyakashipu, and his uncle, Hiranyaksha, were considered the most formidable Asuras to ever walk the earth. Their power was terrifying, their boons incomprehensible. Samhrāda had grown up hearing of their strength, and in the future, few Asuras could hope to rival them. But now, his teacher Shukracharya himself was claiming that his uncle's adopted son—Andhaka, the child he picked in the forest—held a power even greater than Hiranyaksha's. To say Samhrāda was doubtful was an understatement.

"You don't understand yet, and that's to be expected," Rishi Shukracharya said, his voice filled with patience. "When Andhaka was born, his very existence was tied to the forces of darkness and divine power."

"This is why he is called 'Andhaka,' for he was born blind—he embodies the concept of ignorance and obscurity."

Samhrāda listened, intrigued but still hesitant.

"Andhaka's connection to the divine runs deeper than you realize," Shukracharya continued, his gaze fixed on Andhaka, still standing in penance. "He is not merely a product of darkness—his origins are tied to Lord Shiva himself."

Samhrāda's eyes widened in shock. Andhaka... connected to Shiva?

Through meditation and divine wisdom, Shukracharya had learned the events of that fateful day—the day Andhaka was born.

It was perhaps fate's nexus. Parvati, the beloved wife of Lord Shiva, playfully covered Shiva's eyes, plunging the cosmos into darkness. The balance of the universe was disrupted, and from Shiva's forehead, a single drop of sweat fell to the earth. This divine essence, combined with the primordial energy of the earth, gave birth to a being.

That being was Andhaka. Born blind, his name—Andhaka—symbolized his inherent connection to darkness and ignorance. Though his origins were tied to Tridev and Tridevi, he was later handed over to Hiranyaksha who raised him as his son.

Thus, Andhaka, though born of Shiva's essence, grew up among the Asuras, his blindness becoming both a literal and symbolic mark of his life.

"Origin is important," Shukracharya said slowly, his voice heavy with meaning. "But what matters more is his cunning. It is this, his shrewdness, that will enable him to contend with the King of Svarga."

The master's eyes shone with an understanding that went beyond mere knowledge.

He had already seen the path ahead.

Indra was no longer just powerful—he was also shrewd. He and Hiranyakashipu had once been deceived, leading to the return of the legions to Patalaloka and allowing the Devas to regain their foothold. Only Asuras who were cunning enough, who possessed the wisdom to outthink the Devas, stood a chance against the King of Svarga.

As Rishi Shukracharya spoke these words, his gaze shifted, and he turned to look at Samhrāda.

"I, too, will perform penance," he said. "You, however, must remain vigilant and watch over us so nobody tries to disturb our penance."

Samhrāda furrowed his brow, confusion evident on his face. "Teacher, the patala is leaderless now—this is the time when we need you the most!"

Rishi Shukracharya's expression remained unreadable, his voice cool and distant. "The Devas possess the Amrita—the nectar of immortality. If we continue this to wage war against them, the Asuras will only die faster."

He paused, letting the weight of his words settle. "I will perform penance to Shiva and seek the resurrection spell. Only then can the Asuras truly challenge the Devas."

The advantage of the Amrita was overwhelming. As long as the Devas possessed it, they could not be slain. Even with Andhaka's power, the Asuras could not kill a deva. In time, the Devas would always find a way to turn the war in their favor.

Samhrāda fell silent, the weight of his teacher's words sinking in. The idea of resurrection was far more enticing than continuing to fight an unwinnable war.

"Next, you will assist Prahlada," Shukracharya continued, his voice firm. "Help him guide the Asuras to recuperate and prepare for Andhaka's return, as well as mine."

Rishi Shukracharya paused for a moment, his eyes narrowing as if something had just occurred to him.

"Ah, yes, Puloman," he muttered to himself. "But Prahlada is a legitimate heir, despite his faith in Vishnu, still holds some strength. With the support of the Asura generals, I have no concerns about Puloman's scheming."

Shukracharya's lips twisted into a faint, knowing smile. "Even if Puloman seizes the throne, it will be of no consequence. He may think himself wise, but his impatience and refusal to practice asceticism render him powerless. He is nothing to fear."

With that, Rishi Shukracharya turned his attention back to his meditation, already deep in thought about the future and the path ahead.

"There's nothing more to say. Let's go."

Rishi Shukracharya took a firm step forward, heading into the depths of the earth, ready to begin his penance.

"Thank you, teacher, for your guidance." Samhrāda clasped his hands together, bowing slightly in respect to Shukracharya's retreating figure.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

The sound of Shukracharya's footsteps echoed as he descended deeper into the earth. His journey took him across molten lava, each step deliberate and measured, as though the heat of the world itself was nothing more than a passing breeze to him.

This was no ordinary Asura. This Danava was vast and imposing, with the unmistakable form of Hayagriva, the Danava, known for his horse-headed appearance., and a massive battle ax was lodged in the magma, its blade pointing upward. The horse-headed Asura stood balanced on one foot atop the ax's blade, his hands raised toward the skies, praising the name of the Primordial Goddess Mahadevi Shakti.

"Hayagriva?!" Shukracharya muttered under his breath, recognizing the figure immediately.

The legendary asura, the one who had once terrorized the realms, was still alive—his presence here, a symbol of the past, now rearing its head once again.

---

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Chapter Text

"Hayagriva?!" Shukracharya whispered, his voice heavy with disbelief, the words almost caught in his throat.

"He lives…" he murmured again, his eyes narrowing as they locked onto the figure in the distance.

But Hayagriva was not alone.

Flanking him were two other Asuras, their forms equally imposing, their focus unwavering. Short and stocky, they bore the marks of relentless devotion: wild, unkempt hair framed their weathered faces, and their bodies were streaked with a pale layer of white dust that clung to their skin like armor. Their black battle-worn armor seemed to fuse with the grime, the scars of countless battles etched into every surface.

Madhu and Kaitabha—names whispered with caution and fear—stood beside Hayagriva. The two had been legends of their own, known for their cunning and brute force, now united in a shared purpose.

The trio stood in perfect alignment, their feet firmly planted on the blade of a massive battle-ax driven into the earth. The heat of the molten sky bore down on them, yet they remained resolute, their postures unyielding.

"Ōm āim hrīm śrīm klīm!" Their voices rang out in unison, deep and resonant, carrying the weight of their devotion.

Again, they chanted: "Ōm āim hrīm śrīm klīm!"

Their words reverberated through the barren land, a powerful invocation to the goddess they sought to appease. Sweat dripped down their faces, mixing with the dirt and grime, yet their focus remained unbroken.

Shukracharya's fists clenched at his sides, his mind racing. Hayagriva's return alone was alarming, but to see him joined by Madhu and Kaitabha—a trio of titanic strength, origin, and penance—sent a shiver through his being. Under the molten sky, the penance of the Asuras cast a shadow that would not be ignored.

...

The sounds of prayers echoed in rhythmic succession, each one rising into the air with devotion. Though the scene before him was peculiar, it failed to draw the attention of Rishi Shukracharya. What truly caught his eye, however, were the two Asuras coated in white dirt, their bodies radiating a powerful aura that seemed unmistakably tied to Vishnu.

It was as if these two Asuras had been soaked in the very essence of Vishnu. From a distance, the presence they exuded felt off-putting to Shukracharya, an unsettling aura that sent a shiver down his spine.

"Hmph!" he scoffed under his breath, his eyes narrowing. "These two Asura's origin and karma must be closely tied to Vishnu. I can only hope their penance fails, or better yet, that the Indra puts an end to them."

Shukracharya muttered this silently, a curse under his breath before his face twisted in disgust. He quickened his pace, eager to distance himself from the troublesome pair. The last thing he wanted was to cross paths with them.

As he walked, he made his way deeper into the earth, until he reached the heart of the fiery chasm. The ground beneath him was scorched, molten magma flowing like rivers of flame, and the air thick with the pungent stench of sulfur.

Taking a deep breath of the thick, acrid smoke, Shukracharya allowed himself a moment of calm before he floated into the air. His body gradually turned upside down, his head facing the ground, as he hovered above the blazing magma. The black smoke billowed upward, swirling in the heat, yet he welcomed it, unfazed.

With his hands pressed together beneath his head, he caught the sweat that trickled from his body.

Drip. Drip.

The sweat fell, gathering in his hands as he performed his penance. His posture, suspended in the air amidst the smoke and fire, was a testament to his discipline—an ascetic practice honed through countless years of devotion. There were others who could endure such trials, but none could match the grace and precision of his form.

Shukracharya took a deep, steadying breath and turned his focus inward, allowing the divine presence of Lord Shiva to fill his thoughts.

"Om Namah Shivaya," he whispered, his voice a low, reverent murmur as he continued his meditation, undisturbed by the chaos around him.

…

On the other side, in Svarga, a new era dawned.

With Hiranyakashipu's complete elimination, Svarga was finally reclaimed by the Devas. The long struggle had come to an end, and the celestial realm was once again in their hands.

However, the devastation caused by Narasimha's rampage had left Svarga in ruins. The Asura strongholds had been utterly destroyed, their once mighty structures now little more than smoldering wreckage. There was no need for the Devas to take up tools to tear them down; all that was left to do was clean up the remnants.

The air was filled with a sense of relief and jubilation.

"Congratulations, everyone!" The celebrations began to echo through the celestial realm.

Amravati and many other grand cities, once nestled in the Brahma Loka, had now returned to Svarga, their radiant light restoring the former glory of the Devas' home.

"Eh!" Agni put his hands on his hips and sighed, a small frown tugging at his lips. "After all this time in Brahma Loka, I'm still not quite used to being back here."

Years spent in Brahma Loka had softened their attachment to Svarga, and now, returning felt strange, almost unsettling.

"Yes, I'm with you on that," Vayu added, his tone echoing Agni's sentiment.

"Indeed," Varuna nodded in agreement.

Indra, standing nearby, blinked in surprise and glanced at them curiously. "Have you all really moved back your cities to Svarga?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes!" came the unanimous response from Surya, Agni, Vayu, and Varuna.

Indra's gaze flickered over them in confusion. "Am I the only one who still has a palace in Brahma Loka? Maybe I'll stay there from time to time in the future."

"Didn't you prepare for this?" Indra added, his surprise deepening. He had never imagined that his fellow devas had left behind their homes in Svarga for the comfort of Brahma Loka.

He chuckled lightly, adding, "With so many Asuras still out there, and some as powerful as Hiranyakashipu, I thought it prudent to have a place to retreat to. If things ever go south again, I'll just head straight to Brahma Loka, and—" he stopped, raising his hands with a shrug, "—save myself the trouble of moving. The Devas have been beaten so many times, haven't we thought of being prepared for a rainy day?"

In an instant, his words left the Devas frozen, wide-eyed, and stunned. Indra's nonchalant suggestion had caught them completely off guard. The thought of retreating, of having a backup plan in place, was something they had not considered in their celebrations. The silence that followed spoke volumes about their surprise.

Surya frowned, his brow furrowing as he clenched his right fist and struck it against the palm of his left hand. Agni shook his head in disbelief, his eyes widening in realization. Vayu parted his lips, surprised at the idea, while Varuna turned his head with a look of regret.

No wonder Indra had been chosen as the God of Svarga!

Why hadn't they thought of this?

"Is it possible to move there now?" Varuna asked, breaking the silence.

The Devas exchanged uncertain glances.

After all, Brahma Loka was not their true home, and the idea of retreating there now, at this time, felt a bit... unsightly.

"We need to find a deva who's closer to Lord Brahma," Surya said slowly, as a new thought crossed his mind.

"Soma! Soma would be perfect!" Agni's eyes lit up as he spoke. "Soma, he can be considered grandson Brahma-pita as his father is one of Saptarisihi, Atri. If we ask him, he could move a palace to Brahma Loka for us."

It was a reminder of the time when the Trimurti had tested Rishi Atri's wife's faithfulness and given her three children. Soma had been one of their boons, symbolizing the born from the power of Brahma's boon himself.

"Exactly! Agni, you've hit the nail on the head!" Vayu's face brightened, a genuine smile spreading across his features. "If Soma takes us there, I'm sure Lord Brahma won't object. After all, we've lived in Brahma Loka for so many years. Keeping a few more palaces there shouldn't be an issue."

"That's the truth," Varuna agreed, nodding thoughtfully.

…

Time flew by.

The Gandharvas, full of enthusiasm, were hard at work renovating temples across Svarga. The Devas, too, were preparing for the grand occasion. Dressed in golden and silver attire, their bodies glowing with precious light and their divine power radiating brilliantly, they were getting ready to depart for Vaikuntha to attend the Lord's banquet. However, before they could set off, there was one task they had to complete first.

They made their way to the Nandana Garden to address a pressing matter.

The atmosphere in the garden was serene. The air was fresh with the scent of flowers, and the lush green Bodhi trees swayed gently in the breeze. The sky was a clear blue, and the lake water rippled softly as birds chirped joyfully from the treetops. It was a scene of pure natural beauty.

Indra, leaning casually against the trunk of a Bodhi tree, put his hands behind his head and stretched lazily. A yawn escaped his lips, and for a brief moment, he felt the weight of sleep pulling at him.

"Hahu~" Indra murmured, settling in comfortably. "It's the perfect time for a nap."

The other Devas froze in shock, their expressions shifting as they took in the sight. They couldn't believe their eyes.

"Why!" Agni gasped, stepping forward, eyes wide with disbelief. "No way! Is Indra going to skip the Lord's banquet and keep training?"

Swallowing nervously, Agni raised his hand, trying to intervene. "Lord Indra, let's go! This is a rare opportunity to enjoy the beauty of Vaikuntha."

Indra lazily lifted his eyelids and stretched his arms. With a glance at the God of Fire, he replied, "I won't go. I said I'm going to focus on my penance next. There's no need for me to attend a party right now."

Indra was resolute. He was already mentally preparing himself for another intense round of ascetic practices. The banquet was simply unnecessary.

"I won't go," he declared firmly, his voice leaving no room for argument.

But Vayu wasn't giving up so easily. With a smile, he tried again. "King of Svarga, are you truly not coming? This is the Lord's gathering. We haven't seen Vaikuntha yet!"

Indra waved his hand dismissively. "It's not interesting. I'd rather practice."

Vayu scratched his head, his face twisted in exasperation. "But, if you're not going and are going to do another penance, then who will bring the rain to the Bhuloka?"

Indra raised an eyebrow, a hint of annoyance in his tone. "Didn't I do it just fine before? Airavata can manage."

At the mention of Airavata, Indra glanced toward the lake, scanning the surface. "By the way, where's my dear Airavata?"

Suddenly, a white shadow shot up from the water with a mighty splash, sending waves rippling across the lake. The figure sped off into the distance, leaving them in its wake. It was Airavata, Indra's elephant, charging ahead without a second thought.

Chapter Text

"Airavata," Indra tilted his head, his eyes widening in surprise as he watched the white shadow darting across the lake. Wasn't that his Airavata? Why was it running so fast?

He rubbed his eyes in disbelief, then looked again, this time with greater scrutiny. There was no mistake. It was indeed Airavata.

A frown creased Indra's face as he stood up from beneath the Bodhi tree. His mood shifted from surprise to seriousness. Without hesitation, he called out to the distant figure in the lake.

"Airavata!!!"

The name echoed through the forest, reverberating against the trees. The voice of the King of Svarga carried far, his command ringing through the air.

The Devas exchanged confused glances, all turning to look at the lake. The powerful sound of Indra's voice lingered, the echoes still vibrating in the air as they reached the ears of the little elephant.

In response, Airavata dipped his head, ears folding tightly against his head in a futile attempt to block out the sound. But it was no use—the call had reached him.

With a frustrated grunt, the elephant's trunk shot out of the water. He trumpeted loudly, the sound filled with indignation. Rising from the lake, he shook the water off his massive body, stomping across the shore, his movements heavy with embarrassment as he approached Indra.

Indra watched with a sigh, a look of disappointment creeping across his face. "What a disappointment," he muttered, shaking his head. "You're still young. How can you run away from work?"

Reaching up, Indra patted the middle head of Airavata gently, the gesture a mixture of affection and reprimand. Then, with a small grin, he rubbed his hands together and stretched them out in front of him.

A brilliant flash of golden light illuminated the area as two maces materialized in his hands. Indra tested their weight, nodding in satisfaction before turning his gaze back to Airavata.

"I know you're tired," he said with a knowing smile. "But don't complain just yet."

With a flourish, he handed the two maces to the giant elephant, slipping them into the trunks of Airavata's twin heads on either side. The maces glowed with divine power, each infused with an ancient, potent energy.

"These are the Vrista and Drista," Indra explained, his tone rich with pride. "These weapons are now yours. It is your mission to protect the human world, maintain peace, and bring rain and dew to the lands. A glorious task, indeed."

Indra stepped back, admiring his work as the maces settled into place on Airavata's mighty form. He looked at the elephant, then gave a nod of approval.

The next moment, another flash of light appeared in Indra's hand.

A seven-colored longbow materialized, shimmering with divine brilliance.

"This is Indra's Dhanush—the symbol of the rainbow!" he announced proudly. "Airavata, imagine this: every time it rains, you can use this bow to shoot into the sky, and a rainbow of seven colors will descend. You'll ride across the rainbow bridge, slowly passing over it."

Indra's voice was full of awe as he described the vision. "How beautiful! How sacred! Can you imagine how many worshippers will be captivated by you?"

He raised the divine bow high, letting the faint rainbow light dance across the air. The seven colors swirled in a dazzling display, their brilliance almost blinding as they shimmered before Airavata's eyes.

As Indra spoke, he moved the bow toward the elephant's head. With a playful yet tender motion, he gently grabbed Airavata's trunk and draped it across the bow, urging the elephant to lift his head.

Airavata obeyed, his large eyes sparkling with wonder. The elephant's mouth hung open slightly, and a line of clear saliva dripped down as he envisioned the glorious scene Indra painted for him.

"My glory be with you," Indra said softly, his voice full of reverence as he stroked the elephant's head, a solemn look on his face.

The Devas stared in awe, their eyes wide in shock.

"This cute elephant is going to be charmed out of laziness," Varuna whispered in disbelief. "Could it be that Airavata is about to replace Indra and bring rain once again?"

A thoughtful silence filled the air. But then, a new thought struck.

If Indra's mount, Airavata, worked so hard, could their mounts be given the same treatment? Varuna fell into deep thought, considering the possibilities.

Vayu sighed suddenly, clearly frustrated. "I am really jealous of Indra! Why doesn't my mount, Gazelle, maintain the wind like Airavata does?" He sounded displeased, his usual cheeriness gone.

Agni also pursed his lips, a resigned sigh escaping him. "My sheep can't replace me either," he muttered under his breath, clearly dissatisfied with his mount's inability to match Airavata's greatness.

Surya blinked, his eyes sparkling with divine light as he glanced at the Devas around him. The thoughts swirled in his mind, bringing him back to the time when he had been devoured by the mighty Narasimha. He couldn't help but wonder if his divine horses had been stronger, if they had more power, perhaps he could have escaped.

Surya clenched his fists in frustration. "I just hate the lack of horsepower!" He shook his head, determination hardening in his features. "The mounts don't run fast enough! I'll send my divine horses to Vaikuntha to train under Garuda. It must become the fastest of them all!"

His words hung in the air, and the Devas turned to look at one another, their eyes wide with surprise. The idea seemed to spark something in their minds as if they had stumbled upon a new path.

Indra's gaze fixed on Surya, his eyes narrowing in disbelief.

Wait a moment... Surya, you are a genius!

A brilliant smile spread across Indra's face. "What a brilliant idea!" he exclaimed, his voice filled with excitement. "If Airavata goes to hard penance and gains the blessing to enhance his ability to bring rain, then Airavata won't have to work overtime for me. I'll retire from the task entirely!"

Indra's grin widened as he imagined the possibilities. When the time comes, I can continue to penance hard if I feel like it, or simply enjoy my life whenever I want.

"One year of hard work, one year of rest—repeat, endlessly!" Indra exclaimed.

"Let's go!" he declared with renewed energy. "We'll go to Vaikuntha to send them off for their penance!"

He was already excited about the prospect of resting while Airavata worked, and now it seemed like his own chance to focus on his training would come soon enough.

With that, Indra turned to the Devas, calling them to action. One by one, they mounted their steeds and set off together toward Vaikuntha, a synchronized force in motion.

Suddenly, the sky was streaked with light.

Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!

Five brilliant beams of light shot through the sky, each trailing behind a divine mount. They passed like white horses in the void, racing across the vast expanse of the human world before entering the Kshira Sagara.

The waves of the Kshira Sagara roiled beneath them, crashing violently against one another.

"I, Indra, have returned!" Indra called out, his voice rich with mirth, as the Devas continued their swift journey.

The incident of Samundra Manthan of Kshira Sagara is still vivid in my mind. The memory is always before my eyes, and the haunting image of Hiranyaksha never fades from my thoughts. But that being, that force, is completely gone. Gone, never to be seen again.

Whoosh!

As Indra approached the Kshira Sagara, the sight of the vast, black waves struck him. They were endless, bottomless, stretching out into an infinite darkness. But at the farthest point, amidst the shadows, a golden light shimmered, like the rising sun, casting a brilliant glow that seemed to promise something magnificent.

Without hesitation, Indra and the Devas moved in unison, flying toward Vaikuntha, the abode of Vishnu and Lakshmi that lay just ahead of them.

The gates of Vaikuntha stood tall, adorned with golden rings that gleamed in the distant light. These gates, connected in a continuous series, led deep into the heart of Vaikuntha. Everywhere they looked, there was green grass, flowers in full bloom, and lotus blossoms floating in the air. Jewels dangled from every surface, their radiance reflecting the eternal brilliance that filled the sacred city, which seemed as if it would never crumble.

"Finally, we've arrived!" Indra murmured, his heart stirring with a sense of awe. His eyes roamed over the beautiful scenery, and he couldn't help but sigh in wonder. "Svarga is rich and beautiful, but Vaikuntha... Vaikuntha is even more so."

"Truly magnificent!" Surya adjusted his crown and looked around, his voice filled with admiration.

Vayu and Agni shared smiles as they too gazed at the breathtaking surroundings.

"It's so beautiful," Vayu said with a deep breath, clearly moved.

Varuna, ever stoic, couldn't hide his amazement either. "Indeed," he murmured, his gaze lost in the splendor.

Indra stood straighter, a satisfied smile on his face, and strode forward with long, purposeful steps. The Devas had passed through the thousand-layered golden gates of Vaikuntha and now stood before a lush, serene garden. Green grass stretched beneath their feet, lotuses bloomed in vibrant colors, and majestic trees rose high, their leaves swaying gently in the breeze.

However, as they ventured deeper into the garden, their attention was drawn to a gathering at its heart. A group of revered figures stood there—Brahma, Sarasvati, and many revered Rishis—but it was not them that captured the Devas' gaze.

No, it was two goddesses, the most enchanting and beautiful beings in all of Vaikuntha. Their radiance outshone everything around them, captivating the gaze of Devas with their sheer divinity and grace.

The woman on the left possessed a face of unmatched beauty, adorned with a crown of rubies that gleamed brilliantly in the light. Her luxurious golden and crimson gown clung to her divine form, lavishly decorated with treasures as if all the wealth and splendor of the world were embodied in her alone. It could be none other than Goddess Lakshmi, the embodiment of fortune and grace.

To the right stood another vision of divine perfection. Her face, as luminous as moonlight, radiated nobility. Her presence was flawless, her skin glowing with a holy brilliance that seemed to emanate from the very core of the cosmos. Her eyes—vast and deep like the universe itself—held a penetrating gaze, watching all with a profound compassion. This, too, could be none other than Goddess Parvati, the wife of Lord Shiva.

In a quiet corner, Vishnu and Mahadeva stood observing, their expressions speaking volumes. The great Protector of the World appeared helpless, his usual composure slipping in the face of the unfolding scene. Beside him, the terrifying Destroyer remained silent, his gaze fixed yet unreadable. It seemed there was little they could do to mediate between their wives.

A tense silence filled the air, thick with unspoken energy. Then, with a sudden flare, the two Devis locked eyes. Their gazes clashed like a thunderclap—fiery, intense, crackling with divine power. The very air between them shimmered, charged with an impending cosmic storm, the tension mounting with each passing moment. This was no mere quarrel; it was a clash of Shakti, a dispute of goddesses that could alter the very balance of the cosmos.

From his celestial throne, Indra observed with keen interest. His lightning-like eyes flickered between the two Mahadevis, and a knowing smile played on his lips. Conflicts among gods were not unheard of, but a confrontation between Devis, especially of such magnitude, was a rare and formidable sight.

"Now this is something that is going to be remembered!" Indra mused, his anticipation rising. Even he, the wielder of Vajra, dared not intervene in a battle of Adi-Shakti's manifestations. This would be a divine struggle unlike any other.

Chapter Text

Disclaimer:

This chapter incorporates elements of the historical and theological rivalry between the followers of Lord Shiva and Lord Vishnu, which has existed in various forms throughout the history of Hinduism. The portrayal of this rivalry in the narrative is a fictionalized interpretation and is intended for storytelling. It does not aim to disrespect or discredit the beliefs of any group or individual. The chapter explores the philosophical differences within the context of mythology and fiction, rather than an accurate reflection of historical or doctrinal disputes.

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Devi Lakshmi's gaze remained fixed on Devi Parvati, her expression a blend of curiosity and unspoken challenge. The stillness between them seemed almost palpable, like the charged air before a storm. Her eyes sparkled with mischief, and she spoke before the silence could stretch too long.

Her voice broke the quiet like the cry of a peacock—sweet but edged with playful sharpness. "So, how's the guy with the snake around his neck doing?" Her tone carried a teasing lightness, like a breeze that could cool one's skin or leave a sting in its wake. There was no mistaking the hint of amusement in her words.

Parvati's lips curved into a smile, a subtle one, yet her eyes shimmered with the same knowing mischief. She turned her head slightly to the side, unfazed by the jab, her composure as unshakable as ever.

"Ha~," Parvati replied, her voice low and almost a purr. Her gaze shifted towards the distant figure, and she spoke with an air of casual mockery. "Seems a man is sitting on a snake over there."

Lakshmi's lips twitched, but she remained silent for a moment, allowing the words to settle between them. Then, with a touch of impatience, she rolled her eyes. "Is Shiva still wearing that tiger skin?"

Parvati tilted her head, her smile deepening. Her voice, as smooth as silk, came with a mocking lilt. "Does Vishnu still have lotus flowers in his eyes?" she teased, her words pointed yet playful, a reference to Vishnu's iconic epithet, Pushkaraksho, 'Lotus-eyed.'

Indra had been quietly observing the exchange between the two goddesses, his brow furrowed in growing disbelief. His expression hardened as he watched them banter like children. Is this it? He thought, shaking his head with a quiet scoff. The two of you, supreme devis among devis, reduced to petty quarreling on whose husband is best?

Devi Lakshmi, unable to contain her displeasure, snorted coldly, her gaze never leaving Parvati. With an almost derisive tone, she spoke, "Is he still dancing that 'Tandava' of his?"

Parvati's eyes sparkled with a mischievous glint as she met Lakshmi's challenge head-on. "By the way," she quipped, "after your husband went mad, he still had the Vajra mark on his head."

The words were like a dagger, a sharp reminder of an old wound. Lakshmi's expression darkened in an instant, her face flushing with anger. Her lips pressed into a tight, trembling line, and her chest rose and fell with each indignant breath. She glared at Parvati, the fury in her eyes unmistakable.

"You..." Lakshmi began, her voice shaking with fury, "Parvati, you are so rude!"

But Parvati was unyielding. A sly smile danced on her lips as she shot back, "Lakshmi, you talk too much. Every time you open your mouth, you're dripping with sarcasm."

The words hung in the air like a tension-filled storm, crackling with the force of their clash. Both goddesses, their divine poise momentarily forgotten, stood on the precipice of an all-out verbal battle. Their voices rose in angry waves, each cutting sharper than the last, neither willing to back down.

"Vishnu is a benevolent being!" Lakshmi declared, her voice ringing with pride and certainty. The words left her lips like a divine proclamation, filled with an unshakable belief in her husband's greatness.

"Shiva is the Lord of Innocence!" Parvati shot back, her tone equally forceful, the power in her words undeniable. The mention of Shiva's purity was like a shield she wielded with grace and defiance.

"Vishnu is revered!" Lakshmi responded swiftly, her voice rising in passion, an unspoken challenge in her words.

"Shiva is the Deva of Devas!" Parvati countered with equal fervor, her voice unwavering as she spoke of her husband's supreme status.

"Vishnu is supreme!" Lakshmi retorted, her voice now holding an icy edge, her eyes gleaming with the intensity of her conviction.

"Shiva is in the supreme form!" Parvati's words matched Lakshmi's with unwavering defiance, the two goddesses locked in an unspoken battle, their pride fueling the storm between them.

Devi Lakshmi's eyes narrowed, the blue light flickering in their depths. Her expression darkened as she glared at Parvati, the tension thick in the air.

"I suppose we'll never agree, will we?" Lakshmi's voice dripped with icy disdain, her words cold and final, a stark contrast to the lightheartedness of moments ago.

"No!" Devi Lakshmi shouted, her fury palpable in every syllable. "My husband is the greatest god! You, a wife who hasn't even given birth to a child for her husband, have no right to speak!" The words thundered in the air, striking with such force that they sent shockwaves through the gathering Devas.

The atmosphere grew heavy with tension, and even the usually composed Brahma, Sarasvati, Shiva, and Vishnu fell into stunned silence, their eyes fixed on the two goddesses. The words hung in the air, thick with insult and challenge.

Devi Parvati's composure shattered. Her usually serene demeanor flickered, replaced by a fierce, fiery glare. Her breath quickened, her chest rising and falling with barely controlled rage. The insult had cut deeper than she had expected, and the calm veneer she wore cracked like fragile glass.

"Neither did you!" Parvati snapped back, her voice sharp, biting, laced with venom. Her eyes blazed with indignation, the playful back-and-forth now forgotten in the wake of their heated words.

Lakshmi's lips curled into a cold, almost predatory smile, the venom in Parvati's retort not phasing her in the slightest. "Who says I didn't?" she chuckled darkly, standing taller, her regal posture commanding attention. "When I used peacock feathers to clean my husband's ears, two pieces of earwax fell into the Sea of Milk, and life was born. I am already a mother."

Lakshmi's eyes sparkled with pride as she turned to Vishnu, her gaze soft and affectionate, a playful wink dancing across her face.

Vishnu's smile faltered, his expression turning bitter. For a moment, he was left speechless, unsure of how to respond to the heated exchange.

"I see!" Indra finally exclaimed, his eyes widening in realization. "They're arguing over who is the greater among their husbands—Shiva or Vishnu!"

He took in the tension between the two goddesses, noting Devi Lakshmi's words. A strange unease settled over him. Wait, did she just say life was born from Vishnu's earwax?

Indra couldn't shake the feeling that something wasn't right. He frowned, his arms crossing as he stood back, instinctively distancing himself from the brewing conflict. Is she talking about the asuras who forced Vishnu to ask a boon from them to end them?

With a quiet step, Indra moved behind the other Devas, deciding that it was best to stay far from the potential battlefield.

Meanwhile, the two goddesses stood locked in a stare, their eyes burning with intensity, lips pressed tightly together in a battle of wills. The tension was palpable, as if their anger was on the verge of erupting into an all-out confrontation.

Saraswati floated delicately in the air, her gaze flicking between the two goddesses with a mixture of hesitation and concern. She wondered if she should intervene and stop the escalating quarrel. But would she, too, be swept up in the storm if she approached too rashly?

"Narayana Narayana~"

Suddenly, a lively, free-spirited voice echoed through Vaikuntha, cutting through the tense atmosphere like a splash of color on a blank canvas.

With cheerful, brisk steps, the plump, exuberant figure of Narada Muni appeared in the heavenly realm, holding his Veena with one hand, a wide grin on his face. His entrance was as dramatic as ever.

His exuberant praises filled the air, breaking the oppressive silence that had settled over the gathering. Everyone's attention shifted toward the divine sage, and even Devi Lakshmi and Devi Parvati turned their heads, their focus now entirely on Narada's unexpected appearance.

Narada blinked, momentarily disoriented. He stood with his Veena cradled in his arms, his eyes slightly unfocused, a look of pure contentment on his face.

Looks like I'm in for some fun today!

But as he took in the scene, it became apparent that he had arrived a bit too late—and had unwittingly become a part of the entertainment. The two goddesses, no longer content with their verbal sparring, turned their ire towards him.

"Narada!" The chorus of voices—filled with irritation and authority—echoed, each syllable sharp with anger. Narada's eyes widened in shock, and a slight panic crossed his face as he realized that the fun he anticipated was about to be anything but lighthearted.

"Narada, let me ask you!" Devi Lakshmi raised her hand, a scolding tone dripping from her voice as she pointed at him with a finger as clear and sharp as crystal. "Who is the greatest deva in the world?"

Narada, caught off guard, could only blink in surprise. Before he could gather himself, Devi Parvati's intense gaze met his. Her eyes burned with an energy that hinted at her near-transformation into Kali—the goddess of destruction—should the situation escalate further.

Narada gulped. He hadn't expected to be thrust into the heart of this rivalry.

Indra, watching from the sidelines, couldn't help but smirk. His eyes glinted with amusement as he surveyed the unfolding scene. Even mischievous Narada has found himself caught in the crossfire this time.

Suppressing a chuckle, Indra crossed his arms, enjoying the spectacle. Well, it seems I've come to the right place today. This is going to be one interesting show.

Narada Muni's heart skipped a beat as panic flooded over him. The question that had just been asked was as tricky as the age-old dilemma: if your mother and your wife both fell into the water at the same time, who would you save first? There was no right answer, no simple way to escape the situation.

He wanted to say Vishnu—of course, that seemed like the safest choice. But Devi Parvati's intense gaze made his blood run cold. She was... a little too terrifying when angered.

Sweat began to bead on Narada Muni's forehead. He cast a desperate glance at his Lord Vishnu, hoping for some kind of help. But Vishnu simply gazed back, his expression melancholy and silent.

No help there.

Narada then turned his eyes to the sky, seeking some divine intervention. But even Shiva looked uncomfortable, his usual composure wavering in the face of the growing tension.

Not even Shiva?

Narada's gaze then shifted to his father, Brahma, and to the serene goddess Sarasvati. But Brahma only offered a helpless shrug, his face mirroring Narada's helplessness. There was nothing he could do to resolve this mess.

Desperate, Narada glanced around at the gathering of Rishis and Devas. Their eyes were wide with surprise, and some of them, sensing the brewing storm, took an instinctive step back.

Could it be?

Narada's frantic gaze flitted across the crowd.

Is he... trying to shift the responsibility onto us? The Devas and Rishis exchanged uneasy looks. They all had the same thought.

Would Narada Muni really go so far as to make them the scapegoats for this divine debate?

Chapter Text

Thump, thump, thump… The rhythmic pounding of the heart filled the air, an eerie melody that echoed through the tense silence. It was as though they stood on the precipice of a volcano, where the slightest spark could ignite an eruption at any moment.

Narada Muni's mind raced as he carefully studied the faces of the Devas around him. He knew one wrong move could tip the scales.

"Better to offend the Devas than the Rishis!" he thought, his eyes darting to the surrounding gods.

His gaze locked with theirs, and a brief flash of energy passed between them. Surya looked alarmed, Vayu appeared flustered, Agni was lost in thought, and Varuna seemed indifferent, his expression as blank as ever.

One by one, the expressions flickered like shadows, but none of the Devas made a move. The atmosphere grew even more oppressive.

Finally, Narada Muni clasped his hands together, preparing to speak.

"Both of your husbands are the greatest among the Devas in my heart," he began, his voice smooth and carefully measured. "I must confess, I am not wise enough to provide an answer to such a question. Moreover, I am a devoted follower of Lord Vishnu, and my judgment may be clouded. However, Devis, the Adityas who govern the world surely possess the wisdom to resolve this matter. They must have the answer within their hearts."

With that, Narada Muni deftly deflected the question, passing the burden onto the Devas themselves.

Devi Lakshmi and Devi Parvati blinked in surprise, their eyes immediately narrowing onto the assembled Devas. The figures of the Devas froze, each one caught in the intensity of the moment, unsure of what to do next.

"Fortunately, I ran fast," Indra muttered to himself, his thoughts racing as he cast a glance at the unfolding drama.

In a swift move, he used his Maya powers to blend in with the Rishis nearby. Disguising himself with an orange-red robe, he joined their ranks, unnoticed by all except Brahma, Vishnu, Shiva, and Saravati who were too caught up in the tension to pay attention to him.

"If I had known earlier, I would have practiced my Maya more," Indra mused to himself. He had some basic knowledge of illusion magic, but his skills were crude, and easily seen through by the Rishis and Devas. Today, however, he realized just how useful the power of Maya could be. If he studied it more, he'd be able to blend in even better next time—or escape without a trace if needed.

"More things to learn... more paths to take," he thought, silently vowing to improve his illusionary skills when he returned to Svarga.

Meanwhile, the goddesses' attention was now fully focused on the Devas.

"Surya, speak first," Parvati's voice rang out, her beauty intensified by the faint blue light that flickered under her skin. Her gaze was sharp, cutting through the air like a blade aimed at the Sun God, Surya.

Surya, who had been nervously eyeing the situation, now found himself squarely in the goddess's sights. The atmosphere grew even more charged, the tension almost palpable as everyone awaited his response.

"I-I-I..." Surya stammered, his voice faltering as panic set in. "I... I don't know!"

He instinctively shrank back, pulling his hands from his waist where they had been raised in hesitation. His face was filled with distress as he realized the precariousness of his position. He dared not offend either of the two goddesses before him.

Devi Lakshmi controlled wealth, the very lifeblood of the Devas, their "net worth" in her hands. On the other side, Parvati's Kali form was the embodiment of time, death, and destruction itself, controlling the "lives" of the Devas. His wealth and life lay at the mercy of these two powerful beings.

Surya knew better than to challenge either one. He was utterly powerless.

The two devis exchanged a cold glance, then turned their attention to Agni.

Agni, upon feeling the weight of their gaze, went pale. His body trembled, and he clasped his hands together in panic. He shifted uneasily, his feet shuffling, unsure of what to say. His words came out in a nervous stammer: "This...this...both are equally great?!"

The moment he spoke, the goddesses' anger flared. They stared at Agni, their eyes sharp and unforgiving.

"Next!" they seemed to hiss in unison.

Boom!

A wave of oppressive power surged through the air, and Agni was engulfed by it. He shrank back, his form flickering like a small flame, helpless in the face of their wrath. His hands pressed together, but he seemed like a tiny ember caught in a fierce, all-consuming wind.

Weak, pitiful, and utterly helpless.

Next came Vayu. He swallowed hard, his nerves getting the better of him. Looking between the two goddesses, his eyes darted nervously. He clasped his hands together, voice barely a whisper, "Maybe... the Preserver of the Brahman?"

At his words, a deep blue light glowed ominously beneath Parvati's skin, her anger growing more intense as she stared at Vayu. The God of Wind flinched, his heart racing in fear.

A low hum of displeasure emanated from Devi Lakshmi, her lips curling into a soft, almost sinister smile.

"There's also Varuna," she said, a glint of amusement in her eyes.

Varuna, ever the follower of the crowd, had always chosen whichever side seemed to hold the most power. He was quick to align himself with the winning force, and it appeared Devi Lakshmi had triumphed in this moment.

"Wait," Parvati suddenly interrupted Devi Lakshmi, her voice sharp. She turned her gaze and fixed it on Soma, who was standing next to Immortal Adili. "There's other devas left—let Soma choose first."

An immediate shift occurred. The space around Soma cleared as the Rishi respectfully stepped aside, making way for him.

Soma, caught off guard, hesitated. His head lowered in submission, and he clasped his hands together in prayer, unsure of how to respond.

In the blink of an eye, Soma transformed into a streak of silver light, shooting up toward the moon wheel above Shiva's head. He hovered momentarily before gently landing within it.

"Seems like Soma has chosen Shiva," Parvati remarked with a smile, her eyes sparkling with satisfaction.

Devi Lakshmi's smile faltered, her face darkening as she turned her gaze to Varuna who was now the last one left to make a choice.

Parvati, too, fixed her gaze on Varuna, her smile never wavering.

Varuna's hands trembled as he clasped them together, his eyes darting nervously. His mind raced for a solution.

Before he could speak, his form began to shimmer. Within moments, his divine body became transparent, his shape-shifting until he was nothing more than a body of water. With a soft splash, he collapsed onto the green grass, his liquid form pooling into a puddle.

"Mother, just treat me as a puddle of water!" Varuna's voice echoed from the watery depths, laced with a hint of desperation. "Please, don't ask me questions like this—I really don't know!"

The two goddesses responded with an icy snort, clearly unimpressed by his antics.

They turned their eyes back to the other Devas, their gaze sweeping over the assembly.

"Where's Indra?" Devi Lakshmi asked, her voice laced with curiosity and a hint of irritation.

At her words, the Devas and Rishis all turned their heads, scanning the surroundings. As the moments passed, it became clear: the figure of the Emperor of Svarga was nowhere to be found.

"How strange," murmured one of the Rishis. "Where is the King of Svarga?"

"I swear I saw him just a moment ago. Where could he have gone?" another Rishi added, confusion spreading through the crowd.

…

The Rishis exchanged confused glances, their brows furrowed in collective uncertainty. Meanwhile, the eyes of Shiva, Vishnu, and Brahma shifted subtly, all three turning their gazes toward Indra, who was hiding among the Rishis.

Indra's heart raced as he quickly blinked, signaling with his eyes, silently pleading for them not to expose him.

Shiva said nothing, his expression unreadable. Vishnu gave a slight smile, his lips curving knowingly, but he said nothing to reveal Indra's location. Brahma, ever the stoic figure, looked as calm and ancient as ever, his gaze unbothered.

"You must be mistaken," Brahma finally spoke, his voice carrying the weight of his age and authority. "The King of Svarga has not arrived yet. Surely, he is busy with his meditation, focused on his Tapasya."

Indra let out a quiet sigh of relief, feeling the tension in his chest loosen. He then subtly manipulated his Maya, blending seamlessly into the role of a sage. Slowly, he spoke, feigning deep thought.

"Yes," he murmured, as if realizing something. "I suppose I must have remembered wrong. I didn't see him either."

Around them, the Rishis began to murmur in agreement, their expressions still puzzled but willing to accept the explanation.

"It seems so. I didn't see him either," one of them said, scratching his chin.

"Nor did I," another added, their voice tinged with uncertainty.

The moment passed, and the air lightened, though the strange tension still lingered, unnoticed by the oblivious Rishis.

…

The murmurs of the Rishis grew louder, their voices filled with confusion and curiosity.

"Wait really?" Lakshmi asked. "If Airavata is here, then Indra must be nearby!" Devi Lakshmi piecing the clues together.

Suddenly, Devi Lakshmi raised her delicate hand, her jade finger pointing directly at Airavata, who was lazily chewing on leaves nearby.

Airavata, startled, lifted his head high, his gaze meeting that of Devi Lakshmi.

"Indra!!" Parvati's voice rang out, sharp and furious. The blue light around her face intensified, glowing with a furious energy that seemed to vibrate through the air. Her roar echoed through Vaikuntha, lingering and reverberating like a storm.

The eyes of the Trimurti turned toward Indra, the weight of their collective gaze now bearing down on him. He could no longer hide.

Realizing his moment had come, Indra took a deep breath and stepped forward. With a calm wave of his hand, he released his Maya illusion, revealing himself in full. Slowly, he made his way toward the two goddesses.

"Pranam Devi Lakshmi!" Indra began, his voice measured and respectful as he clasped his hands in reverence.

"Pranam Devi Parvati!" he continued, bowing deeply.

The two goddesses glared at him, their anger palpable. "Tell us, Indra," Parvati demanded, her voice tinged with fury, "Who is greater—Shiva or Vishnu?"

Indra clicked his tongue, clearly in a difficult position. He spread his hands in a gesture of reluctant honesty.

"Well, in this case," he said with a slight sigh, "I can only tell the truth."

He paused, glancing around at the rapt attention of the Rishis and Devas before continuing.

"I had thought the two Tridevis would engage in a high-level discussion about Ultimate Truth, Dharma, or Karma, but it seems you want to know something... so simple," he said with a smirk that barely hid his nervousness. "You want to know who is greater—Shiva or Vishnu? Well, I will tell you."

He straightened, his tone growing more serious. "But listen carefully, for what I say now may not be what you expect."

Chapter Text

"I have something to say—please, hear me out!" Indra's voice rang with urgency, commanding the attention of all present.

"The Trimurti—Brahma, Vishnu, and Maheshwara—are not separate. Their powers are but different facets of the same eternal principle, indivisible in essence," he declared, his tone resolute, carrying the weight of divine truth.

Lakshmi and Parvati exchanged a glance, their expressions darkening. Their brows knit together in quiet displeasure. Was this not the same tired argument he had used before—the one about the unity of mud and clay?

Before they could respond, Indra pressed on, his voice gaining an unmistakable sharpness.

"As we all know," he continued, "a husband and wife are two halves of the same soul—Ardhangini! Their power is intertwined, inseparable."

He let the words settle, the air thick with tension. Then, with a measured pause, he added, his voice edged with unmistakable intent:

"There is no fundamental divide between the World Preserver and the World Destroyer—but their consorts, it seems, are a different matter. And if I may speak plainly... the two Devis here have not lived up to their own divine roles."

With that, Indra took a step back, retreating behind Vishnu, a subtle smirk playing on his lips.

The two goddesses were livid now. Their beautiful faces twisted in anger, their eyes burning with an intensity that could scorch the very earth. They fixed their gaze on Indra, a silent promise of retribution hanging in the air.

Indra didn't flinch. He carried on, his words sharp and deliberate.

"The first is Devi Lakshmi, who has become far too prideful," he said, his voice sharp, like a hammer striking an anvil.

Standing behind Vishnu, he remained unfazed by the growing rage he knew would follow. "You take pride in bestowing wealth upon the world, but that arrogance has clouded your judgment. Your complacency blinds you to the fact that your husband's troubles stem from your jealousy. How attentive, how caring, have you truly been as a wife? Look at Lord Vishnu's face," he challenged.

His words were like thunder, echoing through Vaikuntha.

The Rishis looked on in rapt attention, some of them furrowing their brows in contemplation, others listening intently. A few even seemed to nod in quiet agreement, while others merely observed, their expressions unreadable.

Shiva and Vishnu turned their heads slightly, their faces serious as they considered the weight of Indra's accusations. The atmosphere was thick with tension as the two gods weighed his words carefully.

Lakshmi's lips twitched with frustration, her eyes darting nervously to Vishnu before she spoke, her voice faltering. "No...!" she began, a slight tremor in her words. "I'm not arrogant! I... I care deeply for my husband!"

She waved her hand in protest, her voice rising in defense. "I only care for Him! I've always been by His side!"

Indra's gaze remained calm and steady, unfazed by her outburst. "If you truly cared for Him," he countered, his voice unwavering, "you would understand His struggles. You would have seen how your jealousy grew. Did you simply choose to feed your pride instead?"

His words cut deeper, each one sharper than the last. "You want him to be number one, don't you? Still dissatisfied with him being second? Is that really the measure of your love for Him?"

The room fell into a tense silence. Every eye was on the two devis, the weight of Indra's words hanging in the air, as they waited for a response.

Each word that fell from Indra's lips seemed like a divine wheel, striking with precision and reverberating through Devi Lakshmi's very soul. Each syllable sent a tremor through her heart, splitting the ground beneath her feet as if to underscore the weight of his accusations.

Her pupils dilated slightly as shock overcame her, and she staggered back a few steps. Her hands, trembling with emotion, clenched tightly together as her gaze shifted toward Vishnu, searching his face for understanding.

"Really?" she murmured, her voice fragile, barely above a whisper.

Vishnu's gaze softened immediately. He took a step toward her, his eyes filled with unwavering affection. "Lakshmi," he said, his voice calm and reassuring. "No matter what happens, I will always be there for you."

The warmth in his words was like a balm for her aching heart. His arms opened wide, inviting her in, and without hesitation, she rushed to him. They embraced, the world around them fading into a gentle stillness.

Devi Lakshmi clung to him, her tears wetting his chest as she lifted her head, her eyes wide with vulnerability. "I'm sorry," she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Vishnu smiled down at her with an unshakable kindness. "Husband and wife are one soul," he replied gently, his fingers brushing through her hair. "There's no need for apologies."

With a soft smile, he reached out, his fingers touching her hand in a tender gesture of affection. At that moment, a faint blue fluorescence began to emanate from his fingertips, a sign of his divine power. Vishnu twisted his fingers gently, capturing the blue sapphire which was the pride and arrogance of Narsimha, and purifying it into nothingness, dissolving it with a simple flick of his wrist.

The sight of Vishnu and Devi Lakshmi holding each other in such tender embrace brought a serene smile to the faces of those watching, their hearts lightened by the display of love and understanding.

Devi Parvati, who had been silently observing, couldn't help but raise her head high in quiet pride. A smirk played at the edges of her lips. "Looks like I won," she murmured to herself, a quiet triumph in her voice.

Lord Shiva, holding his trident with calm grace, cast a respectful glance at Indra. His expression remained unfazed, yet there was something in his eyes that conveyed admiration.

"It seems," Shiva said with a knowing smile, "that he hasn't finished speaking yet."

Turning his gaze to Indra, Shiva's voice was steady. "Indra, continue. We are all listening."

The sudden shift in focus caught Devi Parvati off guard. She turned toward her husband, her brow furrowing with confusion and a hint of sorrow. Her eyes searched his, silently asking why he had chosen to encourage Indra's continued words.

Shiva's gaze remained innocent, his smile unchanged. He stood resolute, watching Indra intently, as if he could see deeper into the heart of the situation. His quiet support for the unfolding drama seemed unshakable.

Indra blinked, his gaze flickering toward Devi Parvati. A realization struck him—this was not the direction he had intended, but rather the words of Lord Shiva. No matter. If Shiva had opened the door, he would not hold back.

"Then..." Indra began, his voice calm yet sharp, as he stood just behind Shiva, casting a measured glance at Devi Parvati.

"Then there is Devi Parvati," he continued, his tone now rising with accusation. "She has allowed her wrath to overtake her!"

His voice rang out, charged with a quiet fury. "When Devi Lakshmi voiced her dissatisfaction, you nearly descended into the form of Kali—an embodiment of destruction itself. All of this, over a single word spoken about the greatness of Lord Vishnu. Is Vishnu not your brother?" Indra's gaze sharpened as he pressed further. "It seems your anger arose from a single question. Has it clouded your judgment so completely?"

Indra's words cut through the air, and Devi Parvati inhaled sharply, her face flushing with indignation. She had been angered by Devi Lakshmi's words about her inability to bear a child, something that weighed heavily on her heart.

Parvati turned her head away, huffing in disdain. "Sometimes, lies are harmless, but the truth..." she murmured bitterly. "The truth cuts deeper than any falsehood."

Indra's words continued, relentless as ever. "Easily swayed by anger, Devi. Do you still remember your identity as the mother of the world? Are you nurturing this world with the tenderness of a mother to her children?"

The room fell silent as Parvati's expression shifted. Indra's words struck deep—yes, she was not just the mother of her children, but the mother of all.

Indra, feeling the momentum of his words, pressed on. He raised his hand and pointed toward Varuna, now reduced to a puddle of water by Parvati's wrath. "Look at what has become of them because of your anger," he continued, his voice growing more impassioned. "They are all children, just like us. We are all children of the universe!"

He pounded his chest, his voice echoing through the divine halls. "We are all just children!" Indra declared with conviction, as though the weight of the cosmos hung on his every word.

In that moment, he felt the righteousness of his stance, as though he were a divine lawgiver, setting the world to rights. The power of his speech made the other Devas seem insignificant in comparison.

Devi Parvati's prideful head lowered, her gaze softening with a touch of humility.

"It seems... I was really wrong," she murmured, her voice tinged with regret.

She walked toward Shiva, her steps measured and slow. Shiva, ever calm, met her gaze with a gentle smile.

"Parvati," Shiva said warmly, his tone light, "it's just because of your love for me."

His words were simple, yet full of reassurance. Parvati's shoulders relaxed, her heart easing as she met her husband's understanding gaze.

For a brief moment, peace settled between the two Devis, a rare stillness after the storm of their earlier confrontation.

The Devas, watching the scene unfold, turned their gazes toward Indra with deep reverence.

As expected of the King of Svarga!

Suryadev clasped his hands together, his voice barely a whisper but filled with admiration: "May your wisdom continue to lead the Svarga, Indra. We are ever grateful for your words!"

"We are ever grateful for your words!" echoed the Vayu and Agni, their eyes glowing with gratitude and respect.

Their reverence was palpable, like brothers bound by unspoken bonds.

Varuna, who had been reduced to a mere puddle, slowly gathered himself from the ground. Gradually, he regained his divine form, transforming into his human shape once more. With a respectful gesture, he clasped his hands together, his gaze filled with admiration. "Thank you big brother!" he intoned.

The Rishis, too, watched with awe, their eyes fixed on Indra, expressions of respect, admiration, and wonder etched across their faces. To defeat the two powerful Devis with nothing but righteous speech? His strength was undeniable.

So strong, they thought in unison. Such power and wisdom were a rarity among them. Indeed, Indra had become a model to which all Rishis aspired.

"Indra is growing ever more wise," Devi Saraswati murmured, her voice soft with admiration.

"Indeed," Brahma agreed, his beard slightly raised, a knowing smile on his face. "What a spectacle we've witnessed today. It has been most... entertaining."

Amusement danced in his eyes as he observed Indra's skillful display.

But Indra was not yet finished. He turned his head, scanning the Devas and Rishis with his piercing gaze. His eyes blazed like fire, intense and unyielding, before finally resting on a familiar figure: Narada Muni.

Ha! Indra's expression twisted into a knowing smirk.

Even the realms of Svarga and Earth were no longer safe from his wrath.

"Narada!" Indra's voice thundered, a fierce blaze of power that seemed to scorch the very air around him. The sound reverberated across Vaikuntha, shaking the heavens, like a clap of thunder.

"Narada! Narada! Narada!" The echoes of his fury rang out, cascading over the vast ocean of milk, stirring the waves into a frenzy.

Narada Muni, caught amid this storm, had already been preparing to slip away. His legs moved to leave Vaikuntha, his Veena in hand when Indra's voice reached his ears. Realization dawned upon him—he had pushed too far.

Too late... Narada thought, a wry smile crossing his lips, but the damage had been done. There would be no escape now.

As the echoes of Indra's fury continued to reverberate, a tense silence fell over Vaikuntha. Time was running short, and the approaching night would see even greater challenges. It was growing late.

Chapter Text

"Narada!!"

The booming echoes of Indra's voice reverberated in Narada's ears, shaking him to his core. For a moment, he froze, caught in the waves of sound that seemed to rattle his very being.

"!!!"

Narada Muni's eyes widened in alarm, and the panic that flashed across his face seemed to grow tenfold. The shock in his gaze was unmistakable—his usually calm demeanor shattered by an overwhelming sense of dread. His body went rigid, an icy chill creeping down his spine, as an unshakeable panic surged from deep within his heart.

Could it be? Was the King of Svarga about to curse him?

Narada's mind raced, his eyes darting nervously from side to side, seeking escape, but it was too late. The surrounding Devas and Rishis had all turned their attention toward him, and the Trimurti watched closely. There was no way out now.

With a deep, resigned breath, Narada steeled himself. The only option left was to face Indra head-on.

His resolve hardened. He could not afford to back down. Narada was an immortal, a sage whose wisdom and eloquence were unmatched. To be outdone by Indra in a battle of words would be unthinkable. It would turn him into a laughingstock among the Rishis, a humiliating defeat he could not endure.

"Narayana Narayana..."

Narada recited his mantra under his breath, closing his eyes to steady his racing thoughts. When he opened them again, a calm smile graced his lips. There was a rare seriousness in his gaze, a flicker of caution mixed with his usual confidence. He stood slightly sideways, cradling his Veena close to his chest, preparing himself for the confrontation.

Indra's gaze never wavered. He raised his hand, pointing directly at Narada, and an invisible tension crackled between them. The air grew thick with unspoken words, the silence laden with anticipation.

Dong… dong… dong… dong…

The soft celestial music of Vaikuntha shifted, becoming urgent, almost frantic. The once-gentle melody now mirrored the rising tension in the air.

"Narada!" Indra's voice cut through the stillness, sharper now. "Do you remember your promise to me last time?"

The question hung in the air like a weight, and the surrounding Devas and Rishis gasped in surprise. A murmur spread among them. What had led to this confrontation? Why had the King of Svarga turned his wrath toward Narada?

Even the Trimurti and the Devis, who watched from a distance, were drawn into the unfolding drama. Every subtle shift in the expressions of the two figures—every flicker of emotion in their eyes—was noted with keen interest.

"There is a rift between Narada Muni and Indra!"

Narada Muni has been causing trouble for the Devas for quite a while now. It's becoming unbearable. I fear he's finally drawn the wrath of the King of Svarga. We'll have to see how this plays out."

"But Narada in the end is a Rishimuni," some of the Rishis whispered among themselves, their voices filled with concern and curiosity.

Narada, ever the confident and unflappable sage, flashed a bewitching smile. "King of Svarga, I merely failed to answer the Devi's question. What harm is there in that?" He spread his hands, exuding a charm that was impossible to ignore. "Besides, the Devas must show respect to the Tridevi. Are you blaming me for her questions?"

Narada Muni cradled his Veena in his arms, his smile lazy and unbothered, his demeanor as carefree as ever.

But Indra was far from amused. His eyes narrowed, a subtle yet menacing smile tugging at the corners of his lips. Who told you to speak like this?

"Narada Muni!" Indra's voice cut through the tension like a blade. "What are you insinuating? Did I ever say it was because of the Tridevi?" His tone was sharp, laced with an undeniable authority. "What, are you changing the subject?"

A flash of light flickered in Indra's eyes as he lowered his head, his gaze intense and unyielding. His hands rested firmly on his waist as he tilted his body slightly, radiating an oppressive aura so powerful that it seemed to swallow the space around them, leaving Narada momentarily breathless.

The weight of Indra's presence was overwhelming. It felt as though the very air had thickened, the atmosphere heavy with unspoken tension.

Narada Muni was taken aback. His gaze shifted instinctively to Devi Lakshmi and Devi Parvati, both of whom had turned their heads in his direction. Their eyes held unspoken questions, confusion, and perhaps a hint of reproach.

There is another reason for this rift? What does Indra's word mean? Does Narada know what Indra is going to say?

In that fleeting moment, Narada understood the silent messages in their gazes. A cold realization settled in his chest.

"Wait!" Narada's voice faltered, his words breaking as he tried to explain. "I didn't—"

Before he could finish, Indra's voice erupted like thunder, cutting through the air with an intensity that seemed to rattle the heavens themselves.

"Narada!!!"

The force of Indra's shout reverberated across Vaikuntha, his voice ringing with the fury of a thousand storms.

"As a messenger to the Lord Vishnu, when you came to aid Svarga and the Devas, you personally vowed to assist Agni in repelling the army of Hiranyakashipu in the human world!" Indra's words rang out, heavy with accusation. "Where is that promise now?!"

Indra's eyes blazed with cold fury, the fire of his anger reflected in the storm raging behind his gaze. His words echoed, sending a chill down Narada's spine, the weight of his reproach pressing down on the sage.

The eyes of every Deva and Rishi in the room turned to Narada, their expressions a mix of surprise, concern, and judgment. It was clear: this was not just a personal dispute anymore. The whole of Vaikuntha had become a stage for this confrontation, and every divine gaze was fixed upon the immortal sage.

One by one, all eyes were drawn to Narada—Devas, Rishis, even Tridev, and Tri Devis, all focused on the Narada Muni.

Vishnu's gaze fell upon Narada as well, his eyes sharp and calculating.

"Narada...?"

Under the weight of the Lord Vishnu's gaze, Narada's smile faltered, freezing on his face. The word barely escaped his throat, his voice thick with dread. This situation…

Carelessness. Narada's heart sank.

Indra's lips curled into a slight smirk, his eyes cold and unwavering. He took a deliberate step forward, his pace slow but purposeful. Each step seemed to echo in Narada's chest, a heavy thud that reverberated deep into his soul.

"Narada! You! Before the war had even begun, before the Svaraga's army descended upon Earth, you ran away, fleeing without even looking back!"

Indra's voice was a biting frost, his words laced with unforgiving ice. The sound was like the grinding of ancient glaciers—cold, unyielding, and relentless. Narada Muni's body shuddered beneath the weight of that voice, a cold that pierced him to his very core.

"..."

Narada's confident expression shifted, his smile fading into something more strained and uncomfortable. The mocking tone in Indra's voice sent a wave of embarrassment crashing over him. He had hoped to avoid this moment—had hoped the truth would remain buried. But here it was, thrown into the open.

At that time, when the Devas' army surged forth, Narada had sensed the danger, the sudden threat of Asura's surprise attack. His instincts had screamed at him to flee, and so he did. He had run.

"I..." Narada hesitated, fumbling for the right words. "I noticed the Asuras' ambush. It came so suddenly. I felt…"

"Heh!"

Indra's laugh was sharp, cutting through the air like a whip.

"I don't care what you felt!" Indra's voice rose in intensity. "Answer me this!" He fixed his gaze on Narada, his eyes blazing with righteous fury. "Did you warn Agni before the battle? Did you warn him of the danger? Did you speak to him at all?!"

Narada could feel the heat of Indra's gaze like the sun itself burning through him.

"No!" Indra's voice rang out, his words like a hammer strike. "You didn't! You didn't offer a single word of help! Not a warning, not a piece of advice!"

Indra's fury surged, and he leaned in closer, his voice growing louder. "So tell me, Narada—was your promise to Agni just empty words? Are the words of a muni worth nothing at all?"

Narada stood there, unable to reply. The silence hung heavily in the air, thick with tension.

As Indra's words echoed in the vast space of Vaikuntha, the surrounding Rishis stirred restlessly. Their discontent grew louder, each word cutting deeper into Narada's pride.

"Hmph! Narada Muni is truly mischievous. He promised the Devas and yet failed to fulfill his promise. He deserves every bit of this shame."

"He causes chaos at every turn, and now this is the price of his karma!"

The murmurs of the Rishis echoed in the chamber, each voice adding to the weight of the accusation against Narada. There was no escaping it now—the immortal sage had been exposed, his promises shattered before the eyes of all.

…

One after another, the Rishis spoke, their voices harsh with rebuke as they castigated Narada Muni.

Narada, caught off guard, felt a flush of panic rise in his cheeks. His mind spun in confusion, and for a moment, his thoughts scattered like leaves in the wind.

Tightly gripping his veena, Narada turned toward Vishnu, his face painted with desperation. He silently begged for help, his eyes wide with panic, seeking solace in the Lord's gaze.

Vishnu's smile was tinged with helplessness. His eyes, like a still and reflective pool, mirrored the helplessness and panic now consuming the sage.

The Lord's gaze seemed to say it all: You must pay the price for your broken promise.

Had Narada taken Agni when he fled, this might have been forgotten. But now, there would be no escaping the consequences.

"Narada!!!"

Indra's voice thundered like a storm. "You've thrown your promise aside! You've deceived all living beings! Your wisdom has turned to dust in front of fear!"

His words were a sharp lash against the sage's pride.

"I can endure much defeat, Narada," Indra continued his voice now a growl. "But betrayal?!"

A heavy silence hung in the air, thick with the weight of his words.

"I curse you!!!"

Indra's figure now stood directly opposite Narada, his eyes blazing with the fury of the sun, divine light radiating from him, burning through the stillness of the moment.

"Narada!!!"

The word reverberated through Vaikuntha like a rumbling storm, echoing across the heavens. The air itself trembled, and a surge of power—the power of asceticism—filled the space, rising toward the sky like an unstoppable wave.

The entire realm of Vaikuntha seemed to shift under the weight of the curse, the very atmosphere crackling with raw, divine energy.

Chapter Text

"Since you delight in sowing confusion and vanishing at crucial moments, I curse you!"

Indra's voice thundered across the vast celestial expanse of Vaikuntha.

He turned to Narada, his divine eyes blazing with fury.

"Narada!" His command rang out like a Vajra from the skies. "Whenever you weave words to ensnare others in illusion, your voice shall fade into silence! The world shall not hear your mischief—your voice shall be shrouded!"

BOOM! BOOM!

Narada Muni's face turned ashen. His mouth opened in shock, but no words escaped. The gazes of the Trimurti, the Devis, the Devas, and the Rishis flickered between the severe countenance of Indra and the horrified expression of Narada.

Garuda, trembling, hastily retreated, his massive wings folded tightly against his body. He tucked himself behind one of the great pillars at the far edge of Vaikuntha, his eyes wide with both fear and relief. Memories of Indra's fury from ages past flashed through his mind, making him silently thank his stars for not being caught in the storm this time.

Nearby, other divine mounts huddled together, their heads tilted upward in awe and trepidation.

The air crackled with the raw energy of Indra's penance. An invisible force, ancient and unyielding, wove itself into a curse, threading through the disputes between Indra and Narada. Like an unstoppable tide, it surged toward Narada Muni, enveloping him.

The curse was complete.

With a heavy thud, Narada's veena slipped from his grasp and struck the ground. Desperation filled his eyes as he tried to speak.

"Listen to my explanation!" he began frantically. "I—"

But the moment the first word left his lips, his voice vanished. Silence enveloped him, his mouth moving in vain, as though performing a mute pantomime.

The Devas and Rishis exchanged bewildered glances, their faces a mixture of confusion and suspicion.

"Narada Muni must be deceiving us again," Rishi Bhrigu said, his tone heavy with disapproval.

"Indeed," muttered Rishi Angiras. "What other reason could there be for his voice to suddenly fail?"

Rishi Atri stepped forward, his expression stern. He slammed his wooden staff against the ground, the sound reverberating like a judge's gavel.

"It is clear to me," Atri declared, his voice filled with disdain, "that Narada has once again tried to slither out of harm's way with his words."

Around him, the other Rishis nodded in agreement, their faces etched with disdain as their gazes bore into the now-mute Narada Muni.

Narada's silence stood as a testament to the power of Indra's wrath—a curse that had not only silenced his voice but also his schemes, leaving the once-vocal sage isolated and humbled.

"Rishi Atri is right! Narada has gone too far! Even now, he tries to weave his lies before the Lord!"

The voices of the Rishis echoed in disdain, their murmurs growing louder and more condemning. The air was thick with judgment as all eyes fell on Narada Muni.

Narada: "!!!"

His wide eyes darted left and right, scanning the gathering with increasing panic. It took him a moment to realize the truth—his voice had not been heard at all.

Not good!

The weight of Indra's curse came crashing down on him. His attempts at defense, his carefully crafted words, had been interpreted as silence, leaving the crowd to assume the worst.

My reputation... ruined! Completely ruined!

Narada's thoughts raced. His chest tightened as he replayed Indra's curse in his mind. A horrifying realization dawned:

I can only talk to myself? No one else can hear me?

No!

With newfound urgency, Narada clutched his veena and dashed forward. For all his portly build, he moved with surprising agility. His frantic footsteps carried him straight to Vishnu, his last hope.

"Narayana! Save me!"

Narada fell to his knees, hands clasped in fervent prayer, his eyes brimming with desperation.

Vishnu's smile was warm and radiant, exuding a calmness that seemed to reach into Narada's very soul. Like a sunflower turning toward the sun, Narada's panic momentarily eased under Vishnu's serene gaze.

"Narada," Vishnu said gently, his tone as soothing as a spring breeze. "Even the Trimurti are not exempt from curses. Perhaps you should speak to Indra directly."

His words were delivered with a calm finality, but there was a glimmer of knowing in his eyes, one that almost teased Narada's predicament.

Narada blinked in disbelief. "Lord, please! I promise—I'll never—"

But before he could finish his plea, his voice vanished again. The silence was deafening. Narada's mouth moved desperately, but not a single sound emerged.

"Even before the Preserver Himself, he dares to behave so brazenly!" Rishi Bhrigu shakes his head.

Rishi Vasistha stepped forward, his ancient eyes glowing with wisdom. "Changing a person's nature is no simple task. It is the most difficult thing in the world. One can bend the body, manipulate the mind, even alter fate itself, but the essence of one's nature remains steadfast."

Narada flailed, gesturing wildly, his expression pleading. But his antics only seemed to deepen the misunderstanding.

Vishnu, unperturbed, continued to smile, a faint trace of amusement tugging at his lips. He had seen countless cosmic dramas unfold, and Narada's predicament was merely another twist in the eternal dance of fate.

Perhaps, in time, Narada would come to understand that true communication didn't always require words. For now, though, Muni's plight served as a lesson to all—and a reminder of the delicate balance between divine will and mortal pride.

Vishnu's smile grew warmer, his expression radiating patience and amusement. With a gentle blink, he said, "Narada, I can't hear you. Perhaps you should ask Indra."

"!!!"

Narada Muni froze, his body going stiff as a board. Slowly, painfully, he turned his head toward Indra. Their eyes met.

For a moment, Narada stood there, silent and defeated. His shoulders sagged as he lowered his gaze, a bitter expression crossing his face. He had no choice but to acknowledge it—this time, he had been utterly bested. The one he had always belittled, the King of Svarga, now held all the power.

The thought of never being able to speak freely again, of having his voice unheard by all, struck Narada harder than any physical blow. To him, it was a fate worse than death.

He glanced nervously at the gathered Rishis, hoping for some semblance of support. Instead, he was met with disapproving glares, their faces painted with displeasure, even anger.

Narada shuddered. He knew the temperaments of these revered sages all too well. If he walked away now, there was a very real chance that one of them might curse him again for his perceived disrespect towards ignoring Lord Vishnu's advice.

Narayana, he thought with resignation. The path you've shown me... apologizing to Indra... perhaps it truly is the only way out of this mess.

Taking a deep breath, Narada slowly bowed his head. His pride, though battered, had to be set aside.

He clasped his hands together in a gesture of supplication, his voice soft yet laden with sincerity. "Please forgive me, King of Svarga. Allow me to play a song on my veena to express my repentance. I beg for your mercy."

Narada bent slightly forward, his humility on full display. The words were unlike anything anyone had ever heard from the mischievous sage, making the scene all the more striking.

Indra regarded him in silence, his expression unreadable. The mighty King of Svarga circled Narada slowly, his presence commanding.

For a moment, Narada feared he might reject his plea outright. Then, Indra spoke, his voice steady and laced with authority.

"There's no need to sing," he said, his tone firm but not unkind. "It is enough that you recognize your error. To know one's mistakes and strive to correct them is a virtue. But…"

Indra's gaze narrowed slightly, his lips curving into a faint smirk. "The question remains: are you truly sincere?"

Narada swallowed hard, feeling the weight of Indra's scrutiny. He knew this was not just a test of his words but of his very soul.

Snap!

Indra stepped forward, his hand landing firmly yet playfully on Narada Muni's shoulder.

"Narada Muni!" he exclaimed with a grin. "Lord Vishnu invited us. It is such a joyous occasion. Come on now, smile! It feels strange not seeing that mischievous grin of yours."

Indra's tone carried a teasing lilt, and his expression betrayed the effort it took to keep from bursting into laughter.

Narada Muni, however, looked utterly crestfallen, his usual energy dimmed to a mere shadow of itself.

Indra studied his face for a moment before finally giving in. "Hahaha!" A hearty laugh escaped him, shaking his shoulders as he struggled to compose himself.

Narada Muni's lips twitched, his expression a blend of resignation and amusement. An awkward, almost reluctant smile formed on his face as if he were caught between annoyance and acceptance.

Shouldn't I have just kept quiet from the start? He mused silently, his thoughts filled with regret.

Across the room, Brahma watched the exchange with a faint smirk. His gaze flitted between Indra and Narada before his lips curled slightly upward.

"Indra truly is clever," Brahma remarked, his tone laced with admiration. "To think he could resolve such a tricky matter between the two devi with such ease."

Standing beside him, Goddess Sarasvati smiled softly, her serene expression radiating warmth. She glanced at Brahma, her eyes sparkling with quiet mischief.

"Nath," she said in her gentle voice, "I, too, have a question."

Brahma blinked, startled, turning toward her with an expression that teetered between curiosity and concern.

Chapter Text

Brahma's eyes widened in surprise, a flicker of panic flashing across his usually composed face. His gaze darted between Shiva and Vishnu, searching for reassurance or perhaps a quick escape route.

No way! He thought. Sarasvati is always calm and wise—she wouldn't lose her temper over bygone matters. But what if she brings up that eternal debate again? The one about who is the greatest among the Trimurti?

He swallowed nervously, bracing himself. Why must I always be the one caught in the middle?

However, Sarasvati, with her serene composure and unruffled demeanor, offered him a gentle smile. Her hair, dark as the night sky, framed a face glowing with wisdom, and her eyes sparkled as if holding the secrets of the universe.

"Nath," she said, her voice soothing, "there is no need to worry."

Her words immediately eased some of Brahma's tension, though a trace of wariness lingered.

"What I wish to ask is not about that," she continued, her smile growing. "It's another question altogether."

With graceful steps, Sarasvati moved forward, her veena cradled elegantly in her arms until she stood before Indra. Her peaceful demeanor was tinged with an air of intellectual curiosity.

Indra's eyes narrowed slightly. A sinking feeling settled in his chest, and a subtle frown crept across his face. What is she planning? He wondered.

"Indra," Sarasvati began, her tone soft yet commanding, "your wisdom has impressed us all today. But now, I have a question for you—one that I hope you can answer."

Indra stiffened. His instincts screamed that trouble was brewing, though her words carried no malice.

"You said the Trimurti are indistinguishable in their greatness," Sarasvati continued, her voice light yet deliberate, "but I ask you—what is the greatest existence in this world?"

Her question fell like a thunderclap.

Indra blinked, momentarily stunned, while the air around them seemed to grow heavier. The Rishi, who had been murmuring among themselves, immediately fell silent, lowering their heads as they were drawn into deep contemplation.

This was no trivial query. Sarasvati's question cut to the very core of philosophical thought, far more profound than the earlier disputes between the two Devis. Unlike mere tempers that could be soothed, this demanded a true intellectual and spiritual reckoning.

The Rishi began to murmur again, each one lost in their musings.

"Is it Brahman?" one ventured aloud, his voice filled with a mix of curiosity and reverence.

"Brahman is the source of all creation—unmanifest and beyond existence itself," Rishi Vasistha spoke, his tone reflective. "No… no, perhaps not. Brahman transcends form, and this presence seems too tangible to be the formless Absolute."

"Then it must be the Trimurti," suggested Bhrigu, his brow furrowed in contemplation. "But which one?"

"Is it Shiva, the destroyer of ignorance and illusion?" asked Angiras, his voice steady but uncertain.

"It has to be Vishnu, the preserver and sustainer of life!" declared Vasistha, his eyes brightening with realization.

The murmurs rose and fell as the scholars debated with themselves, some beating their chests in frustration, others pacing, stamping their feet, or shaking their heads in the grip of a profound dilemma.

Indra stood frozen, his thoughts racing as he tried to form an answer that would satisfy not only Sarasvati's intellect but also the expectations of the Rishi and Devas gathered around him. The weight of her question pressed down on him like a mountain.

The Devas looked utterly helpless, their minds blank as they exchanged panicked glances. Unable to come up with any answers themselves, they turned their gazes pleadingly toward Indra.

This… They truly didn't know what to say or think!

Indra blinked, staring at Sarasvati in disbelief. The realization hit him like a bolt of lightning.

So, you're the final boss! he thought. To ask such a tricky question… You planned this all along, didn't you?

He sighed inwardly. I just finished saying the Trimurti cannot be distinguished from one another. Now you want me to determine the greatest existence in the world? What kind of trap is this? There's no way out but to wing it!

Steeling himself, Indra raised his head, his eyes locking onto Sarasvati once more.

Meanwhile, the Trimurti—Shiva, Brahma, and Vishnu—fixed their expectant gazes on him, awaiting his answer. The Devas and Rishi leaned forward, holding their breaths in anticipation.

Narada Muni, who had just managed to stifle his grin, felt it creep back onto his face. Holding his veena close, he chuckled silently to himself. Well played, Mother Sarasvati! Well played!

Indra straightened his posture, his head tilting slightly upward. The weight of countless stares pressed down on him from all directions, but he maintained his composure. A faint smile crept onto his face, masking the turmoil inside.

"If you're asking who is the greatest in the world," Indra began, his voice steady and clear, "then of course… it's I."

For a brief moment, time seemed to freeze.

The Devas were struck speechless, their mouths agape in utter disbelief. The Rishi exchanged bewildered glances, too stunned to react.

"Presumptuous!"

The thunderous roar came from Rishi Atri, who could no longer contain himself. He shot to his feet, his face red with fury, his beard trembling as if it shared in his outrage.

The word echoed in the air as Rishi Atri stormed forward, his anger practically radiating off him. His glaring eyes locked onto Indra, and his voice boomed like thunder.

"Indra, how dare you display such arrogance?" Rishi Atri's rebuke hung in the air like a sharp blade.

Among the crowd, Immortal Radha let out a soft sigh, shaking his head, though a bright smile tugged at the corners of his lips.

Ah, here it is again. The King of Svarga and his old habit of arrogance.

Narada's smile widened. Oh, this is going to be good!

Narada Muni's eyes widened in pleasant surprise as he noticed Rishi Atri bristling with anger, reaching for his kettle as if ready to unleash a barrage of curses.

But before the situation could escalate further, Indra's voice rang out once more, steady and resolute:

"This 'I' is not just me, Indra. It is every life, every self, every Atma!"

The words reverberated through the air, striking a chord in everyone present. A ripple of curiosity and contemplation spread through the assembly as all eyes turned to the King of Svarga, waiting for his explanation.

Rishi Atri's brows furrowed deeply, his hand frozen mid-motion. The kettle, poised to pour its wrath, was forgotten for the moment. His body stiffened like a statue as his mind wrestled with Indra's cryptic proclamation.

What exactly is this 'I'?

Indra stole a glance at Rishi Atri out of the corner of his eye. Seeing the sage momentarily immobilized, he couldn't help but feel a wave of relief wash over him.

Phew! These Rishi are way too intense. Good thing I talked fast enough—at least the curses can't catch up to me if I keep this pace!

"I?"

The gentle murmur came from Devi Saraswati, her serene expression shifting as she sank into deep thought. Around her, the other Rishi frowned their faces a mosaic of confusion and intrigue. They mulled over Indra's declaration, trying to unravel the meaning behind his words.

"Indra, continue," Vishnu urged, his calm voice tinged with genuine curiosity. The protector of the universe was eager to hear where the King of Svarga's train of thought would lead.

"Brahma, Shiva, Vishnu…" Indra began again, his tone solemn as he named the holy Trimurti. "The Lords are supreme and unparalleled in their greatness!"

Rishi Atri's frown deepened. He shook his head vigorously, his bewilderment only growing. He raised his gaze to Indra, his confusion evident as he silently demanded more clarity.

Indra turned slightly, lifting his chin just enough to exude a confident air, even as his thoughts scrambled. I still haven't figured out where this is going… Let's stall with some well-placed praise for the Trimurti!

With that plan firmly in mind, he spoke again, his voice steady and measured:

"A compassionate heart, like Brahma's, embodies creation. Just as all things of beauty and goodness come from his hands, so does everything in this world.

"A sacrificial spirit, like Shiva's, saves the world. Remember how the great Shiva drank the poison of the Milky Sea, Halahala, to protect all living beings across the three realms? Only through such selfless sacrifice can the world be preserved.

"And a pure mind, like Vishnu's, maintains balance. The ability to sustain all things and keep the world's harmony is born from an unwavering peace within."

Indra paused, letting his words sink in before delivering his final point.

"A person who embodies these three qualities—compassion, sacrifice, and balance—is as great as the three Devas united as one."

Silence fell as Indra finished speaking.

A faint smile graced Shiva's serene face, while Vishnu's expression softened, radiating kindness. Brahma's beard quivered slightly, the edges lifting with the brightness of his hidden grin.

The celestial melodies of Svarga resonated through Vaikuntha, their auspicious tones mingling with the shared joy of the three Lords. The harmonious music awakened a deep sense of happiness within the hearts of all present, spreading an almost tangible euphoria.

Meanwhile, Rishi Atri stood rooted in place, his thoughts spiraling as he processed Indra's profound words.

The other Rishi widened their eyes, gazes fixed on the King of Svarga. Slowly, respect began to dawn in their expressions, replacing confusion.

What a good philosophy!

Even Devi Saraswati seemed to have reached a new understanding. Her soft murmur broke the silence, her words carrying a tinge of wonder:

"So, everyone has the potential for greatness."

Indra, observing her reaction, lowered his head slightly. A surge of satisfaction warmed his chest, and he allowed a small, knowing smile to form on his lips.

Hearing Saraswati's gentle musings, he spoke, his tone as soft as the breeze:

"Because greatness needs no words. It is not bound by speech or name, just as the Brahman transcends the limits of language and thought. Greatness is not something that is created by external praise; it is the very essence of being, realized when one aligns with the eternal truth, the Tat Tvam Asi—' That Thou Art.'"

"True greatness," he continued, "is inherent in all. It does not need the confirmation of others, nor does it require the proclamation of its existence. Just as the Purusha is present in all beings and all things, so too is greatness hidden in every soul, waiting to be realized."

Indra's smile deepened, his confidence now radiating quietly.

At that moment, Brahma's arm gave an involuntary tremble. A strange warmth spread through his palms, catching his attention.

Surprise flickered in his eyes as he gazed down at the Vedas in his hands. The ancient texts glowed with radiant streaks of golden light, their brilliance illuminating the space like the sun.

Shiva and Vishnu turned their attention to the Vedas, their smiles widening. Their gazes were tender, almost reverent, as though they were beholding a cherished lover.

A nameless joy filled their hearts, spilling into the atmosphere.

"This is Vedic approval!" Rishi Vasistha exclaimed, his eyes shining with the weight of the truth they had uncovered. "The very essence of knowledge, confirmed in the eternal wisdom of the Vedas."

Rishi Angiras, with a soft, almost meditative quality, added, his voice reverberating with awe, "This debate will be immortalized in the Vedas," he murmured, a touch of wonder in his voice.

Brahma's voice carried over the murmur of the crowd, his face glowing with delight as he declared, "This moment will be forever etched in the wisdom of the Vedas!"

Chapter Text

The Vedas glowed with a radiant golden light, casting an ethereal glow that filled the space with an aura of profound wisdom. Brahma's serene gaze lingered on the sacred texts, his hand unfurling with deliberate grace as the ancient scrolls drifted upward, shimmering with a brilliance that seemed to carry the weight of all divine knowledge.

A smile, full of timeless satisfaction, touched his lips as the Vedas ascended into the Sky. Their luminous presence was not just a sight, but a living embodiment of enlightenment itself. The world seemed to hold its breath as the texts, sacred and eternal, hovered in mid-air, their power rippling through the very fabric of the universe.

"The Vedas have spoken," Brahma's voice resonated, deep and filled with cosmic authority. "And with them, the path is illuminated. Remember this moment, for it will echo through the ages."

The Rishis, standing in awe before the celestial display, could hardly contain the wave of reverence sweeping over them. Their eyes shimmered with wonder, as though the very air around them was infused with divine truth.

"Vedas..." The word escaped their lips like a prayer, trembling with the weight of centuries of wisdom.

Rishi Atri's whisper was barely audible, but it carried the reverence of the Sky. His hands were clasped together in fervent supplication, his heart overflowing with gratitude.

The other Rishis followed suit, their faces glowing with an otherworldly joy. It was as though the Vedas were a life-giving rain falling upon them after an eternity of thirst. Some fell to their knees with a reverent thud, hands raised to the Sky, their voices breaking the stillness with unrestrained devotion.

"Vedas!" Rishi Atri repeated, his voice trembling, as though he were standing on the edge of eternity.

The collective chant rippled outward, growing louder, the very walls vibrating with the sacred resonance of their words. "Vedas!" they cried each voice an echo of countless generations past, a unified chorus of worship.

A mighty wave of devotion swept through the room, enveloping all who stood witness to the miracle. In that moment, the space was not just a room—it was a sanctified realm, touched by the divine. The Vedas, the eternal font of wisdom, hovered above them, a beacon of knowledge and grace.

…

Amid the devout praises of the Rishis, the Vedas gleamed once more, their golden light flashing brilliantly. From their sacred pages, hymns began to resonate, filling the air with an ethereal melody.

"Lord of the Rains, Storms and Thunder!"
"Sitting among the devas, they call you, the wisest among the wise!"

The faint yet powerful chant emanated from the Vedas, its sound imbued with timeless divinity. The hymn seemed to transcend the barriers of time and space, flowing across the boundless cosmos until it reached the ears of every Rishi.

In that instant, all Rishis who remained awake, not yet immersed in meditation or ascetic practices, heard the sacred verses. Their hands instinctively clasped together, and they joined in the hymn, their voices filled with reverent devotion.

In the Human world

"This... this is Indra!" Rishi Kasyapa exclaimed, raising his head as awe filled his expression. He clasped his hands tightly, his voice trembling with excitement as he joined the celestial chant.

"Lord of the Rains, storms and Thunder!"
"Sitting among the winds, they call you, the wisest among the wise!"

In the Vaikuntha Realm

Narada Muni, unable to resist the hymn's enchantment, began to sing with deep reverence. His voice harmonized with the hymn, a vessel of devotion.

The Devas, moved by the divine melody, joined in, their voices intertwining with the praises.

By the end of the celestial chanting, the Vedas' luminous glow slowly dimmed, and they descended back into Brahma's waiting hands.

"The wisdom of the world shall endure forever," Brahma declared solemnly. "This debate will be recorded within the Vedas and preserved until the end of this Kalpa."

Vishnu's lips curved into a smile as his gaze rested upon the sacred texts. "A most unexpected delight!" he said warmly.

"Excellent!" Shiva's voice, calm yet powerful, resonated across the gathering. "Indra, as King of Svarga, you have shown excellence today!"

Hearing these words, the other Rishis turned their gaze to Indra. Their eyes sparkled with surprise, admiration, and newfound respect.

"Homage to Indra, Lord of Thunder and Rains! Homage to the King of Svarga, the Slayer of Vritra!"

Their voices rose in unison, echoing across the Sky, a song of praise to the mighty King of Svarga, the Lord of the Rains, storms, and Thunder.

…

Many Rishis clasped their hands together in reverence, bowing deeply as they paid tribute. They did not hesitate, pressing forward eagerly, their eyes gleaming with fervor. Like wolves drawn to the scent of prey, they moved closer to Indra, surrounding him in an almost chaotic crowd.

To even catch a glimpse of the light of wisdom, to breathe in its sacred essence—this alone was enough to fill their hearts with satisfaction.

"Magnificent! Divine! Blessed!"

The exclamations rose like a hymn in their own right, their voices trembling with joy and awe.

Narada Muni, shaken from the spell of the Vedas' hymn, stood apart from the throng. Holding his veena close, he stared into the distance, lost in thought.

It's done, he realized with a pang of both pride and dismay. The debate between the King of Svarga and his sister was now Rishiized within the Vedas, etched into eternity.

But with that, a troubling thought followed. When others speak of this debate in the future, discussing its origins, who will they mention?

Narada swallowed hard, his expression tightening. It will be me—Narada, the instigator, reduced to a mere stepping stone in this tale of greatness.

"The wisdom of the King of Svarga," Narada murmured with a touch of awe, "has truly surpassed even my own."

Indra, now surrounded by the Devas and Rishis alike, basked in their admiration. The throng gazed upon him with reverence, their eyes reflecting not just awe, but a sense of worship.

A voice from the crowd rang out, eager and respectful. "King of Svarga, please grace my humble retreat in the forest! Teach your wisdom to me and my disciples. I shall welcome you with a grand ceremony!"

Indra, ever the gracious and composed king, nodded with practiced ease, his smile as radiant as the thunderbolt he wielded. "Ah, certainly… next time, my friend!" His tone was warm, yet there was a playful glint in his eyes.

Another voice echoed with similar reverence. "King of Svarga! Come to my home, and I shall offer you the highest courtesies, beyond compare!"

"Yes, yes," Indra replied, his voice smooth and charming. "Next time, of course! I shall make time for it."

Then, a bolder Rishi, with a mischievous gleam in his eye, stepped forward. "King of Svarga, I have a daughter—"

Indra, ever sharp and quick-witted, interrupted him with a loud, exaggerated cough. "Ahem! Testing me with such propositions, are we? Rest assured, my friend… next time, I'll attend to it!"

The crowd burst into hearty laughter, the sound ringing through the heavens like a melody. Their respect for Indra grew deeper, not just for his wisdom and power, but for the charm and wit that endeared him to those around him.

Indra, the mighty deity of storms and war, stood not only as a figure of awe but as a leader who understood the hearts of his people, humor and all. His ability to balance grace, humor, and authority made him not just a king, but a beloved and approachable divine figure.

…

The voices from the crowd came in an endless stream, each Rishi and Deva making their requests with unrestrained enthusiasm. Indra, with all the grace of a King, deflected them one by one, his smile unwavering even as the persistence of his admirers tested his patience.

Not far from the commotion, the Trimurti stood together with their divine consorts, observing the scene with varying expressions.

"Indra is indeed wise," Vishnu remarked, his tone light, "and he performs admirably as the King of Svarga. But alas, something is missing."

His words drew curious glances from the others.

"Nath, why do you say so?" Devi Lakshmi asked, tilting her head as her golden jewelry sparkled in the divine light.

Vishnu's smile widened, radiant and warm like the sun at dawn. His gaze softened as it fell upon her.

"A man without a wife," he said, his voice carrying the weight of both affection and certainty, "is incomplete—just as I cannot imagine being without you."

Devi Lakshmi blushed, her serene composure momentarily giving way to a rare moment of vulnerability. She stepped closer, leaning into her husband's embrace as his arms wrapped protectively around her.

Devi Parvati, hearing Vishnu's words, turned to Shiva with a knowing smile. Without a word, she tightened her grip on his hand, her gaze conveying a love as eternal as the mountains he meditated upon.

Meanwhile, Brahma glanced sideways at Devi Sarasvati, who stood by his side with her usual calm, unyielding grace. Her serene smile betrayed no reaction, but Brahma let out a quiet sigh of relief nonetheless.

Ah, the ease of a long and steady marriage, he mused, though a flicker of exasperation crossed his face. But truly, this sort of sentimentality is not for me anymore!

The interplay between the gods and their consorts unfolded quietly, each dynamic reflecting the balance of the cosmos itself. While Indra basked in the admiration of the Rishis and Devas, the Trimurti and their divine wives found joy in subtler, yet no less profound, connections.

…

Finally, after much persuasion and countless excuses, the Rishis gradually dispersed, their fervor subdued but their spirits visibly lifted.

As the crowd thinned, Surya approached Indra with an exuberant smile, followed closely by the other Devas.

"Those Rishis!" Surya said with a chuckle. "They always carried such stern, self-important expressions. This is the first time I've seen them so animated!"

"Indeed!" Vayu added his grin broadening. "I doubt any Rishi will dare say now that the Devas lack wisdom."

"Absolutely!" Agni exclaimed, patting his chest with exaggerated relief. "Thanks to Big Brother, we've silenced them all! I was nearly scared to death by the Tridevis during that debate!"

Cough! Cough!

Indra cleared his throat pointedly, turning his head toward Agni with a raised eyebrow.

Agni froze, realizing with dawning horror that the Devis were still nearby. His expression shifted immediately as he scrambled to correct himself.

"Of course, I didn't mean that the Devis were wrong!" he stammered, his face flushing with panic. "It's just… I'm too timid for such intense moments!"

Varuna chuckled softly but wisely held his tongue, glancing nervously at the Devis from the corner of his eye.

Indra smirked, shaking his head slightly at his fellow Devas' antics. "Enough of that. We still have important matters to attend to," he said firmly. "It's time to speak with the Lord about the mounts."

At this reminder, the Devas straightened, their jovial demeanor replaced by a determined resolve. This mission was crucial—for their future comfort and convenience, they couldn't afford any missteps.

Turning toward the lush green expanse nearby, the Devas called for their mounts.

TRUUUU!

With thunderous strides, Airavata, Indra's majestic white elephant, trotted forward, shaking his enormous head and swaying his trunk joyfully. Behind him, horses, Gazelle, Makara, and the other mounts of the Devas followed closely, their movements graceful yet powerful.

As the mounts gathered, Indra clasped his hands together and turned toward Vishnu, bowing deeply.

"Pranam Lord Vishnu!" he declared with reverence.

The other Devas quickly followed suit, echoing Indra's words with nervous sincerity.

Vishnu, his expression calm and benevolent, looked upon them with a faint smile. His gaze held the patience of eternity, a quiet approval shimmering in his eyes.

"Lord, it is as we say," Indra began, his voice steady and earnest. "We Devas labor tirelessly to uphold the balance of the world. If we, as masters, toil so diligently, it is only fitting that our mounts should share in that effort. We ask that they train under your guidance and grow stronger."

Vishnu's gaze shifted thoughtfully, moving across the assembled mounts.

The white elephant, the white horses, the gazelle—each radiated a divine aura, their forms glowing faintly with celestial energy.

As his eyes lingered briefly on Surya's white horse, a knowing smile spread across Vishnu's face. It bloomed, radiant like a sunflower turning toward the light, as though he glimpsed a vision of the future—one only he could see.

After a moment, Vishnu turned his attention back to Indra and the Devas, his expression serene.

"As you wish," he said with a gentle nod. "When these mounts have completed their penance, I shall bless them with my favor."

His words carried a divine weight, and his smile, radiant and reassuring, filled the air with a quiet, unspoken promise.

Chapter Text

Bhu Loka

Rishi Atri gripped his cane tightly, his expression radiant with joy as he returned to his humble residence. Emotion swirled in his chest, making every step lighter than the last.

"To witness the manifestation of the Vedas," he murmured to himself, his voice trembling with elation, "is a reward earned through countless cycles of karma!"

His face radiated joy that erased years from a man's visage. Eager to share his overwhelming happiness, he quickened his pace, his heart longing to tell his wife, Anasuya, about the divine experience.

The small, thatched house stood surrounded by a simple wooden fence, its charm accentuated by the warm domesticity within. Outside, Anusuya, a cheerful woman with a kind smile, busied herself preparing a Satvik meal. The inviting aroma of roasted grains and freshly steamed rice mingled with the soft curls of white smoke rising from the cooking fire, adding a touch of serene simplicity to the scene.

The scent reached Rishi Atri before the sight did. His nose twitched slightly, and he inhaled deeply.

"Ah, the sweet fragrance of rice… and…" He paused, his eyes lighting up with realization. "Laddus made from jaggery and sesame! Anusuya has prepared laddus!"

Excited like a child, he hurried toward the house, his cane tapping rhythmically against the ground.

The door creaked open just as Rishi Atri reached the entrance. He stopped short, his eyes widening in surprise as a tall, mature-looking man stepped out. The newcomer's cold, serious expression and thick beard made him look every bit the stern ascetic, and the cane he carried added to his commanding presence.

Rishi Atri froze, momentarily stunned. But then recognition bloomed on his face, and his heart swelled joyfully.

"Durvasa!" he exclaimed, his voice echoing with delight. "You're back, hahaha!"

Unable to contain his happiness, Rishi Atri's laughter rang out as he opened his arms and moved toward the man. Despite his advanced age, he trotted forward with surprising energy, embracing his son tightly.

"Durvasa, my son!" he said, his voice thick with emotion.

Durvasa, ever stoic, allowed a faint smile to touch his lips.

Rishi Atri blinked away tears as he stepped back, his hands still on Durvasa's shoulders. He shook his head, overwhelmed by the fortune of the day.

To witness the manifestation of the Vedas and return home to find his son, one of his three, had completed his ascetic practices and come back—it was a joy that seemed too vast for one heart to contain.

He raised his gaze to the heavens, his voice quivering with gratitude. "What a day! If I were to ascend to Svarga now, I would leave without regret."

The laughter of a father reunited with his son and the scent of a lovingly prepared meal filled the air, transforming the humble home into a haven of divine happiness.

"Father, why are you so happy?"

Rishi Durvasa's piercing gaze fell upon his father, who couldn't seem to stop smiling since returning home. The joy radiating from Rishi Atri was infectious, yet puzzling to Durvasa, who had just emerged from his long meditation.

After ushering his father into the house, Durvasa finally asked, his tone tinged with curiosity.

Rishi Atri clapped his hands together, his eyes brimming with warmth and an odd touch of pity. A deep sigh escaped his lips.

"Ah, my son! You just finished your meditation, didn't you? Such a pity! Such a shame!" Atri lamented, shaking his head. "You missed it. I visited Vaikuntha all Tridev and Tridevi were present there! The Vedas… they manifested!"

Durvasa's brow furrowed deeply, his confusion was evident.

"What?!" he exclaimed, tilting his head slightly, his tone demanding clarity. "What's the big deal about that?"

Having been immersed in meditation, Durvasa had been entirely detached from worldly events. He now found himself grappling with the apparent significance of what he'd missed.

Rishi Atri sighed again, the weight of his awe palpable. "Lord Vishnu summoned the Devas and Rishis to Vaikuntha. You were absent, Durvasa, deep in meditation, so you have no idea what transpired."

Durvasa leaned forward, his interest piqued. "Father, what happened?"

"The Vedas manifested in their glory," Atri began, his voice reverent. "Their sacred words resonated for the entire Triloka to hear. His wisdom and name now have been recorded within them."

Durvasa's eyes widened, blinking with a mixture of astonishment and urgency. He shook his head, grabbed his father's arm, and leaned closer. "Who was it?" he demanded, his voice almost trembling. "Which Rishi's wisdom has been etched into the Vedas?"

The mere thought of being part of the Vedas—the supreme, holy scripture revered by all Rishis—was enough to stir deep excitement in Durvasa. To be recorded within it was an honor beyond compare, worth any sacrifice.

Rishi Atri hesitated, his words faltering. "The one was…" He paused, his expression clouding with caution. Just as he was about to speak, he recalled something—his son's strained history with the King of Svarga.

After all, it was Rishi Durvasa himself who had cursed the Devas, stripping them of their divine power and forcing them to churn the Kshira Sagara alongside the Asuras. The memory of that grudge stayed Atri's tongue.

"Never mind," Atri said carefully, patting his son's arm. "Perhaps it is better for you to learn of it in due time."

Durvasa's frown deepened, his sharp mind sensing there was more to the story than his father let on. Yet for now, he held his peace, his curiosity burning like a hidden ember, waiting to ignite.

Rishi Atri turned to his son, his gaze meeting Rishi Durvasa's expectant expression. His eyes glimmered with a blend of wisdom and gentle compassion.

"My child," he began, his voice calm yet weighted with significance. "Sometimes, the truth may seem hard to grasp, even harder to believe. But no matter how unsettling it might feel, you must choose to accept it."

He raised a hand, placing it reassuringly on Durvasa's shoulder.

Durvasa tilted his head in confusion, an unspoken question written on his face as if a literal question mark hovered above him. Why was his father speaking in riddles?

Sensing his son's bewilderment, Atri chuckled softly and cleared his throat. "In Vaikuntha, a wise man engaged in a debate with the Devi Sarasvati herself. The Devi posed a question to the gathered assembly, one that resonates deeply with all who hear it."

Durvasa's brows furrowed as he listened intently. "What was the question?"

Atri leaned slightly forward, his tone solemn. "She asked, 'What is the greatest in the world?'"

Durvasa's expression grew thoughtful. He closed his eyes, retreating into the depths of his mind to ponder the profound query.

Atri watched his son in silence, his patience unwavering, his gaze a mix of admiration and quiet anticipation.

Durvasa's brow furrowed in deep thought, his intense gaze fixed on the ground as he pondered. After a few moments, his eyes snapped open, brimming with conviction.

"The greatest in the world must undoubtedly be the Trimurti!" he declared, his voice resonant and unyielding.

In his understanding, the Trimurti—the three supreme Devas—were the pillars of existence, an inseparable triad embodying creation, preservation, and destruction. Like an inverted triangle, Mahadeva and Vishnu formed the apexes above, with Brahma as the foundation below, each indispensable yet unequal in reverence.

Durvasa's expression grew sharper, his reasoning cutting through his declaration. "But among the three, it is only Mahadeva and Vishnu who are revered above all else. Since they embody the ultimate, could it be… Mahadeva?"

Rishi Atri's lips curved into a knowing smile, his silence profound, a quiet nudge urging Durvasa to delve further.

Durvasa tilted his head, his mind racing. "Or is it Vishnu, the sustainer and protector of all creation?" he asked, his tone now inquisitive, seeking validation.

Again, Atri remained silent, his serene smile unmoving.

Frustrated yet intrigued, Durvasa asked, "Father, what is the answer? What truth did the wise man tell?"

Atri's eyes softened, and he finally spoke. "It is I."

Durvasa blinked, stunned by the simplicity of the response. "You?"

"Not me as in Rishi Atri," Atri clarified, his voice carrying the gravity of his wisdom. "But the 'I' within every being—the self. Every person's soul, their Atman, is the greatest. It is through the Atman that all truths are realized, all connections are formed, and the divine itself is understood."

Atri then elaborated, weaving a tapestry of concepts and principles that tied together the eternal nature of the self with its role as both the seeker and the sought.

Durvasa listened, enraptured, as his father's words deepened his understanding of the world, the divine, and, most importantly, himself.

Durvasa sat in silence, his body motionless, as the weight of his father's words settled over him. His sluggish movements betrayed the storm of thoughts swirling in his mind. Slowly, his head began to shake, a small smile forming at the corners of his lips, growing into a look of joy as the revelation dawned on him.

He raised his hands, bringing them together in reverence. "What a wise man!" he exclaimed, his voice filled with awe. "I never imagined such a wise man could exist in this world!"

Unable to contain his curiosity, he leaned forward, his eyes wide with eagerness. "Father, who is this Rishi Muni? Where did he practice asceticism? Have I met him before?"

Rishi Atri's calm demeanor did not falter. He nodded slightly, his gaze steady. "Yes," he replied simply, "you've seen him before."

"Who is it? Which Rishi are we speaking of? Rishi Kashyapa? Or perhaps Rishi Angiras?" Durvasa pressed on, his questions spilling out in rapid succession.

Rishi Atri couldn't help but smile at his son's rare display of unbridled excitement. It was the first time he had seen Durvasa so visibly unsettled.

With a composed air, Atri decided it was time to unveil the truth. "Indra," he said, his voice calm yet laden with significance.

The name echoed in the quiet room, resonating like thunder. "Indra… Indra… Indra…" Atri's tone was steady, but his words struck like a lightning bolt, reverberating in Durvasa's ears, refusing to fade.

Durvasa's eyes widened in shock, his expression morphing into one of disbelief. His normally solemn face froze, his features betraying his inner turmoil—dilated eyes, a slightly open mouth, and a bewildered stare.

It was as if time itself had stilled.

Durvasa's body remained rigid, his posture frozen, like a statue carved in the throes of confusion. The revelation was not just unexpected—it was monumental, shaking the very foundation of his understanding.

Rishi Durvasa blinked, his expression perplexed, as if trying to process what he had just heard. He shook his head, his gaze fixed on his father. Slowly, almost incredulously, he repeated the name.

"Indra?"

"Yes," Rishi Atri affirmed with a nod.

"Indra? The King of Svarga?!" Durvasa's voice rose in disbelief, his eyes wide as if the very notion defied all reason.

"Indeed," Atri confirmed once more, his tone steady.

"Impossible!!" Durvasa exclaimed, springing to his feet. He waved his hands vehemently, his voice filled with indignation. "Indra possessing such wisdom? Preposterous! A joke!"

To Durvasa, the idea was ludicrous. Unless the celestial teacher himself, Brihaspati, had composed the Vedas on Indra's behalf, this revelation was beyond belief.

"It's true," Atri said firmly, his voice carrying the weight of conviction. "When I first heard his answer, I assumed it was arrogance speaking, and I was ready to curse him on the spot. But the wisdom in his words... it silenced even me."

Atri tilted his head back slightly and sighed as if reflecting on the moment. "The King of Svarga has shattered my preconceptions. I see him in an entirely new light now."

Durvasa, however, remained unconvinced. "Father, don't let illusions sway you. Indra's nature doesn't change. Beneath it all, arrogance still festers in his heart!"

Atri's expression darkened at his son's defiance. Rising to his feet, he fixed Durvasa with a cold glare, his eyes blazing with displeasure.

"Durvasa!" Atri's voice thundered, commanding the room. "How dare you speak such disrespect about one whose words have been recorded in the Vedas?"

Atri's anger was palpable, his righteous indignation filling the air like an electric charge.

Chapter Text

"Father!" Rishi Durvasa exclaimed, his voice laced with frustration. "I have dedicated my entire life to upholding and maintaining Dharma!" His eyes burned with intensity, reflecting the deep conviction that had guided him for years.

"I admire the wisdom of the Vedas, and indeed, his words carry great insight. But the nature of Indra is difficult to change. He may have transformed outwardly, but the arrogance of the throne of Svarga runs deep. It is not so easily cast aside!" Durvasa's gaze hardened, his voice rising in defiance. "I have seen it with my own eyes."

Rishi Atri's eyes narrowed in response. The air between them crackled with tension, each word drawing them closer to an explosive confrontation. The father and son stood side by side, the wind billowing as the dust held its ground, their chests rising and falling with restrained fury. Their stares were fierce, their energy almost palpable—like gongs and drums resounding in the distance, signaling an impending clash.

The silence stretched, thick and oppressive, as if the very atmosphere was preparing for the storm that could break at any moment.

"Durvasa!" A gentle voice suddenly pierced the tension, soft but steady, breaking the impending storm.

Ansuya appeared, a smile dancing on her lips as she carried a plate of laddus. The sweet aroma filled the air as she stepped forward, her presence a calming force. Her eyes twinkled with warmth as she picked up a sugar ball from the top of the plate with her right hand and offered it to Rishi Atri, her gesture both loving and tender.

Rishi Atri let out a soft hum of approval, taking the Laddus and eating it slowly. The sweetness seemed to ease some of the tension in his features, and he closed his eyes momentarily to savor the treat.

Ansuya turned her attention to Rishi Durvasa, her smile never fading. With a playful glint in her eye, she took a handful of sugar balls and placed them gently into his right hand.

"Mother!" Durvasa protested, his face flushed with annoyance. "I'm not a child anymore!" He glared at his father with mild irritation, his earlier frustration fading under the weight of Ansuya's care and the sweetness of the candy.

Ansuya's smile only widened, her calm and loving demeanor offering a silent reminder that sometimes, sweetness—both literal and metaphorical—was the cure for even the deepest of tensions.

"You will always be a child in my eyes," Ansuya said with a soft smile. "And now you're just throwing a tantrum."

"Mother!" Rishi Durvasa huffed, his frustration evident. "I'm going back to penance!"

With that, he clasped his hands together, bowing slightly to his mother. Then, with a formal nod, he turned toward his father before preparing to leave. The house, with its warm atmosphere and comforting embrace, no longer held his interest. His mind was set on his training, away from the distractions of family.

Ansuya sighed gently, shaking her head. With a wistful look in her eyes, she watched her son head toward the door, a quiet sense of concern settling in her heart.

"As long as a person is pious and persistent enough," she said softly, "they will be transformed, and even people who had met them before will change their past judgments sooner or later."

The words lingered in the air, and Rishi Durvas caught halfway to the door, paused. His mother's wisdom echoed in his mind, and he found himself momentarily stilled.

The Rishi in Disguise, always stern and strong, felt a subtle shift inside. He respected his mother deeply—her loyalty, piety, and wisdom had long been recognized by the Trimurti, making her a rare and precious figure in his life. The quiet reverence he held for her only grew with each word she spoke.

What she said made sense.

Could it be that Indra had indeed changed? Perhaps he had learned to hide his arrogance, disguising his true nature.

"Mother!" he called out, turning back to face her, his voice softer now. "I see! I understand."

He took a deep breath, then clasped his hands together once more and bowed deeply. The weight of his mother's wisdom settled in his heart, and a seed of understanding began to take root.

Ansuya's worried eyes softened as she watched her son's expression shift. She knew him well, and the change was subtle, but she could see it—his pride was beginning to give way to reflection.

"Do you truly understand?" she asked, a quiet concern threading her voice.

"Of course, I understand!" Durvasa smiled, nodding with renewed determination. "What you said makes sense, Mother. I will find a chance to test the King of Svarga's true nature in the future."

Ansuya's heart swelled with a mixture of pride and worry. She knew her son, and though his stubbornness could be trying, she trusted that, in time, he would come to understand the deeper truths of life.

…

The radiant peaks of Kailash stood tall against the sky, their snow-capped summits bathed in the light of the eternal sun. Below, the flower fields bloomed in full glory. Thousands of vibrant mandala flowers stretched as far as the eye could see, each petal a masterpiece of nature's design. The air was sweet with their fragrance, and the colors dazzled like a living painting.

Among the sea of flowers, Lord Shiva and Devi Parvati walked side by side. The tranquility of the moment was palpable, their steps light and harmonious with the surroundings. They exchanged smiles, their bond unspoken yet deeply felt as if the very universe had woven them together in a dance of eternal love.

Behind them, the sacred cow Nandi followed faithfully, his large form casting a gentle shadow on the ground. His hands were clasped in devotion, his eyes filled with quiet joy as he accompanied the divine couple.

Shiva bent down, his gaze soft and affectionate. He picked a single mandala flower from the vibrant sea and held it out to Parvati with a tender smile.

"Parvati," he called softly, his voice carrying the warmth of the cosmos itself.

Parvati's face lit up with a radiant smile, her eyes sparkling with affection. As she reached out to take the flower, her mind was momentarily clouded with the thoughts of the believers—those who had achieved perfection through deep penance. The weight of their devotion was a constant presence in her heart, and for a brief moment, she hesitated, her hand lingering in midair.

Shiva, sensing her inner turmoil, spoke gently, his voice laced with patience. "Their devotion is true."

At his words, Parvati's hesitation melted away. Her eyes cleared, her focus returning to the present moment. With a swift nod, she accepted the flower from Shiva's hand.

In an instant, Parvati's form shimmered and turned into a brilliant golden light, fading into the horizon.

Shiva stood still for a moment, his eyes drifting toward the distant boundary of Vaikuntha. A subtle shift in the atmosphere stirred, and his thoughts seemed to reach beyond the realms of Kailash.

The land beyond was harsh, a stark contrast to the serenity of the flower-filled fields. Lava churned in vast pools, black smoke billowing into the sky. The magma, a mix of deep red and black, spilled over the scorched earth, sending waves of heat into the air. Blazing flames erupted, threatening to consume everything in their path. Three imposing axes stood embedded in the molten landscape, their dark forms symbols of strength and resolve.

"Ōm āim hrīm śrīm klīm!" cried a horse-headed Danava, his voice filled with devotion. He raised his arms high, closing his eyes tightly as he offered his worship.

"Ōm āim hrīm śrīm klīm!" echoed two other figures, their bodies covered in layers of snow-white dirt. They too raised their arms, their voices a chorus of unwavering reverence, as they continued their chant in praise of the goddess.

The sound of their devotion reached the heavens, a testament to the enduring power of Shakti and the divine presence that guided their souls.

The air crackled with the intense power of penance as it surged within the three Danvas. Their forms were entwined with divine energy, a force so potent that it seemed to reverberate through the very fabric of reality.

At that moment, the atmosphere above their heads shifted dramatically. Dark, swirling smoke and thick, oppressive fog gathered together, coalescing into a strikingly beautiful yet terrifying face in the air. Its eyes glowed like burning embers, and its tongue flickered like a flame.

"Hayagriva!" Parvati called, her voice cutting through the heavy air. Her gaze shifted first to the horse-headed Danava, then to the other two figures, their bodies covered in layers of snow-white dirt.

"Madhu! Kaitambha!" she said, each name sharp and commanding. The sound of her voice seemed to jolt the danavas from their trance, snapping them out of their deep penance.

In an instant, the three danavas' eyes flew open, their powerful gazes focusing on the world around them. Hayagriva, the horse-headed Danava, sprang lightly from the great axe with a fluid, graceful motion. His form flipped mid-air, landing with a soft thud as he stood ready, his posture as agile as ever.

Madhu and Kaitambha followed suit, their bodies descending gracefully from the axe blades as the three rays of golden light enveloped them. The light healed their fatigued forms, mending the wear and tear of their intense penance.

"Your penance is complete," Parvati announced, her voice carrying a sense of urgency. "Now, tell me, what blessings do you seek?"

Hayagriva, clasped his hands together in reverence, a gleam of determination in his eyes. He took a step forward, his movements deliberate and commanding.

"I wish to live forever!" he proclaimed, his voice resounding with strength.

The air grew still, but a cold echo rippled out in all directions, the reverberations of Parvati's stern refusal.

"No!" she replied sharply, her voice tinged with divine authority. "Life and death are the natural laws of the universe. No being, no force, can grant immortality."

Hayagriva bowed his head slightly, a flicker of understanding passing through his eyes. "Is that so?" he murmured, reflecting on her words.

"In that case," he continued, his voice heavy with resolve, "I wish that only beings exactly like me could defeat me!"

Parvati's gaze turned upward, her presence immense in the sky above. The great shadow of her form swirled as it shifted to face the brothers—Madhu and Kaitambha. The aura that surrounded them was unmistakable, the familiar energy of Vishnu emanating from them. The realization struck her like a thunderbolt.

Is it them? she thought, her heart racing with sudden recognition.

The connection to Devi Lakshmi's words during their last quarrel flashed through her mind—it must be them!

"What kind of blessing do you seek?" Parvati asked again, her voice both soft and commanding.

Madhu and Kaitambha whispered to one another, their voices low but purposeful. After a moment of quiet discussion, they spoke in unison, their words clear and unwavering: "We wish to die only by our choice."

Above them, Parvati's eyes flickered with a knowing intensity. She looked to the sky, then back down at the Danavas, her voice resonating with divine power.

"As you wish."

Her words rippled through the air, echoing like a sacred chant that reverberated across the earth, each repetition lingering longer than the last. The divine energy of her blessing seemed to stretch into the very fabric of existence, causing a shift in the atmosphere so profound that even those in Svarga noticed the disturbance. A strange feeling rippled across the realms as if the earth itself was attuned to Parvati's decree.

In an instant, three beams of golden light fell from the skies, their brilliance blinding yet gentle, weaving through the air before merging into the bodies of the three Danavas. The light enveloped them, sealing Parvati's blessing into their very being.

"Success," Hayagriva, said with a satisfied grin. He tossed his head back, the long mane flowing with the motion. "With this boon, I can finally begin the next phase of our plan."

He stood taller now, his presence amplified by the divine blessing that coursed through him, a sense of unstoppable purpose igniting within his heart. The plan was set into motion.

---

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Chapter Text

"Hahahaha!" Hayagriva's lips twisted into a sly grin.

His hooves, shining with a radiant light, morphed into hands that gracefully stroked the flowing mane of the horse's head, now resting behind him. In this world, he alone possessed the rare and powerful form— the head of a horse and the body of a human. It was a singular existence, a marvel that set him apart from all others.

Unique. With his boon, one might even say he had been blessed with immortality, an endless cycle of life in disguise. Yet, despite all of this…

Hayagriva was far from satisfied.

His ambitions were vast—greater, far greater than even those of the former Asura Kings Hiranyaksha and Hiranyakashipu.

"Next, I will seize the Vedas," he murmured inwardly, a gleam of determination flashing in his eyes.

The Vedas—within their ancient verses lay the supreme wisdom he needed. The wisdom that could help him survive this cycle of Kalpas, transcend each one, and endure the countless others that lay ahead. He desired to claim this power, to live beyond the constraints of time, until the distant future stretched out before him, achieving true immortality even if the universe was destroyed in the future.

As Hayagriva schemed, his thoughts turned toward the necessary steps to obtain the Vedas.

"To claim the Vedas, I must first journey to the Brahma loka," he reasoned. "But to reach the Brahma Realm... I require the help of these two."

His gaze shifted, and his large horse eyes narrowed onto the two Asuras who lay slumped in the dirt, their bodies stained with white dust.

Madhu and Kaitambha.

These two were no ordinary Asuras. Born from Vishnu himself, they carried the divine essence of their creator, and through their help, he could enter the Brahma Loka.

Madhu and Kaitambha, unaware of the looming plans, were filled with a sense of joy, unaware of the darker fate that awaited them.

"Brother, with this boon, we can rule the Patalaloka. Once we return, all the Asuras will bow to us," Kaitambha, the younger brother, exclaimed with uncontainable excitement.

Madhu, his older sibling, grinned widely.

"Exactly, second brother. Now that our training is complete, the time has come for us to unite our strength. First, we'll kill Hiranyaksha, then imprison Hiranyakashipu." He paused, his eyes gleaming with ambition. "We'll defeat them, seize control of the Patalaloka, and from there, we'll launch an assault on the Svarga."

"With this, we'll prove 'that person' wrong for casting us out, for banishing us to the Asuras. We'll make him regret his decision and pay for his actions!" Madhu laughed wildly, his joy echoing through the air.

The two brothers, born from the earwax of Vishnu himself, had been granted divine strength. Yet, instead of feeling gratitude, their hearts burned with resentment. Cast aside by Vishnu and sent to the depths of Pataloka, they swore vengeance for what they saw as a betrayal.

Vishnu had believed that exile to Pataloka would diminish their power, but instead, it became their crucible. Years of grueling survival and relentless ambition had only fueled their strength, honing them into unstoppable forces.

Now, with their powers fully perfected, they were ready to conquer Pataloka and, eventually, Svarga—intending to upend the balance Triloka and force Vishnu to fight them.

"Two fools," Hayagriva muttered to himself, listening to the brothers' boastful plans. A dark smile curled across his face.

What kind of Asura King do they think they are? He thought with a smirk. The true path to power lies in the knowledge of the Vedas, not fighting over being of King of Triloka.

This was the perfect opportunity to manipulate them—use their ambition to further their own goals.

"Since you hate the Preserver of Brahman so much—I have a way for you to exact your revenge," Hayagriva spoke slowly, his voice smooth as silk, as he made his approach toward Madhu. He shook his head, and his horse mane fluttered with an almost regal elegance.

"What is it?" Madhu and Kaitambha's eyes locked onto Hayagriva, their curiosity piqued.

The Horsehead Asura grinned, a knowing smile crossing his face. He raised a finger, slowly moving it between the three of them before pointing it toward the sky, a gesture full of promise.

"Snatch the Vedas! The Vedas are the very source of wisdom in the universe!" Hayagriva's voice was filled with conviction.

"Without the Vedas, all growth will cease. The world will fall into silence, and darkness will return." He paused for a moment, letting the weight of his words sink in. "When the time comes, the protector of the world will regret abandoning you."

Hayagriva's eyes glinted as he spoke, knowing well that these two brothers, born from Vishnu, possessed tremendous power, perhaps even rivaling his own. But Hayagriva was clever—a master manipulator. If he could trick them into aiding him, the results would be far greater than any solo effort could achieve.

Kaitambha's eagerness was evident as his eyes lit up at the mention of the Vedas. Madhu, however, seemed more cautious, his expression darkening with doubt.

"The world will be destroyed? What's the point of that?" Madhu clicked his tongue. "Why not head to the Patalaloka and enjoy as Kings rather than destroying everything?"

Hayagriva's horse-like eyes narrowed slightly in thought. This one, Madhu, was proving to be more difficult to sway than Kaitambha.

With a subtle grin, Hayagriva walked closer to Madhu, clapping him on the shoulder with a reassuring smile. "You can't think like that, brother. Stealing the Vedas is merely a means to an end. What we truly seek is eternal life!"

He gestured grandly as he spoke, his voice rising with fervor.

"The Vedas contain the supreme wisdom, the key to surviving the great calamities that threaten us! Once we obtain them, we will be beyond the reach of death itself."

Madhu's expression softened, the allure of immortality clouding his earlier hesitation.

"When the time comes," Hayagriva continued, "the three of us will be invincible. We will be the new Tridevas of the world, the Trimurti. I will stand as the God of Destruction, and you..." He looked at the brothers with a gleam in his eye, "...the remaining two positions are yours to claim."

Madhu's eyes widened, his lips curling into a smile as he imagined the grandeur of Hayagriva's words. His breath quickened as his imagination took flight, visualizing the immense power, the supreme wisdom, and the endless possibilities that awaited them.

"Good!" Madhu finally exclaimed, his voice filled with anticipation.

The three of them stood together, surrounded by the searing heat of the magma pool. The lava bubbled and churned beneath their feet, sending up waves of black smoke. Madhu's fist clenched tightly as he considered the future; his determination set.

Hayagriva stood tall, his mane flying in the hot wind, his pride evident in his stance. He reached up to stroke his mane, savoring the moment. A triumphant smile curved his lips.

"Ah, yes... I am the smartest being alive," he murmured, his voice dripping with quiet confidence. "Every step, every decision has led to this. The future is mine to command, woven meticulously by my unparalleled intellect."

…

In Svarga, the Devas had gathered in the grand palace of the King of Svarga. A shimmering light mirror materialized in the center of the sacred space, casting an ethereal glow throughout the room.

The Adityas—Vayu, the Wind Dev; Agni, the Fire Dev; Varuna, the Water Dev; and Surya, the Sun Dev—circled Indra, their expressions tense and filled with growing anxiety. Their eyes, wide with panic, fixated on the three dark figures that slowly emerged within the mirror's light.

In an instant, the three figures vanished.

The air was thick with tension as the Devas exchanged nervous glances. Fear and confusion clouded their faces, and the panic was palpable.

Here we go again. Another Asura had succeeded in their penance, and now, there were three of them.

"Three Asuras have completed their penance. What are we supposed to do now?!" Surya's voice trembled as he pretended to keep calm, his fists clenched in frustration.

"Should we strike now, while they haven't yet taken control of the Patalaloka?" Vayu suggested with a nervous edge in his voice.

At Vayu's words, Indra shot him a disapproving glance. Vayu, you fool!

Varuna, remained silent, his gaze distant as if lost in thought.

Agni, ever restless, shifted uneasily. Their last attempt to reclaim the Patalaloka had ended in a humiliating defeat. Hiranyakashipu had crushed them, capturing every last one of them. The defeat had been so complete that the Devas were left embarrassed, their pride shattered. Agni's itch for vengeance burned, but he couldn't shake the sting of their prior humiliation.

"How about I lead the heavenly army... and strike again?" Agni proposed, a flicker of determination crossing his face.

Indra's expression hardened at Agni's words, and he remained silent for a long moment, his mind weighing the situation. These three Asuras were no ordinary foes. The thought of engaging them in battle seemed absurd. Fighting them is impossible.

At that moment, Indra realized that the best course of action was to retreat. Indra recalled the Arthashastra—"When facing a foe whose strength exceeds yours, retreat is the wisest course."

Without another word, Indra turned on his heel, his posture exuding authority as he strode forward, his golden armor gleaming beneath the temple's light. His red cloak billowed behind him like a storm cloud, signaling his departure with commanding force.

The Devas stared in stunned silence as Indra walked away.

"My mount Airavata is in Vaikuntha," he muttered, eyes narrowing with determination. "And I'm in no mood to wage another war again. Now that the Asuras have arrived, it's time for a well-deserved break."

With that, Indra gave his final command.

"Let's go! We're heading to the Brahma Loka to meet the Lord Brahma!"

And so, with Indra leading the charge, the Devas made their retreat, their resolve wavering in the face of yet another looming threat.

---

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Chapter Text

"Meet Lord Brahma?!"The Devas stood frozen, their expressions a mixture of confusion and disbelief. Eyes wide, they glanced at one another, unsure if they had heard Indra correctly.

The King of Svarga, with his dramatic cloak swishing behind him, had just appeared as if he were preparing to lead an army across the Patalaloka. Yet now, he was talking about heading to Brahma Loka instead?

"This... this plan isn't half-bad," Surya muttered to himself, a thoughtful frown on his face as he turned to the Devas around him. "Wouldn't it be better if we just go directly instead of all this... fanfare?"

"Indeed," Agni agreed, his voice laced with a hint of reluctance. "It would be rather humiliating to just go to Satyaloka as soon Asuras got some boons like this."

Vayu looked contemplative for a moment. "Then perhaps we should prepare, take a couple of shots when they invade Svarga, and then make a dramatic and heroic exit with the promise to reclaim Svarga sooner or later? We can't leave without fighting."

His suggestion was practical—after all, the last time they had retreated in shame, they'd learned the value of being prepared for any outcome. This time, they hoped to act more swiftly and decisively.

Indra, now standing with his back straight, turned around with a look of righteous indignation. "Ahem! Ahem! What are you all talking about?"

His voice carried with a tone of authority, one that left no room for further discussion.

"We are simply going to ask advice from Lord Brahma!" Indra continued, his expression stern. "I need to inquire about the origins of these three Asuras. It's a normal exchange! Nothing more, nothing less!"

He turned his head slightly, casting a sideward glance as he raised a hand in defense. "Do not slander my actions!"

Agni blinked, his mouth hanging open in surprise at Indra's sudden defensiveness. Then, he quickly nodded, as if coming to an understanding.

"The Svarga has recently trained a new army of Gandharvas," Agni added, his tone more relaxed now. "It would be an excellent opportunity to bring them to Brahma Loka as well. Perhaps Devi Saraswati could inspect them and teach them some new vyuhas while we're there."

Indra's eyes gleamed with approval, and the Devas nodded in agreement, their mood shifting. At least they now had a new plan to focus on.

With that, the group began to prepare for their journey, their minds already shifting from fear to strategy. It seemed the King of Svarga had a few more moves left to make in this tense game.

Over the years, the Gandharvas had flourished in the heavenly realm, their numbers multiplying and expanding with each passing generation. Their descendants had become so numerous that the Gandharvas had doubled in strength several times over. It was from this growing population that the new armies of Gandharvas emerged.

Surya, hearing this, suddenly understood the situation.

"Since it's a review, I'll continue leading the way for these Gandharvas. It's perfect timing—the God of Craftsman has just finished building a new warship!" Surya said with a nod.

"In that case, I'll come along as well!" Vayu declared, his tone filled with enthusiasm.

As the Devas spoke, an air of excitement began to take over them. This felt strikingly familiar—just like when they had once gone to the Earth Realm for the gold-making bed. The only difference this time was that they were heading to Brahma Loka, and there would be no Asuras to block their path.

"Alright, prepare your armies immediately!" Indra commanded, a wide smile spreading across his face. "Let's head to Brahma Loka for some training!"

With a shared sense of purpose, the Devas dispersed to gather their forces. Meanwhile, the sacred chariots began to mobilize, their hooks dropping down one after another to latch onto the cities. The preparations for their journey to Brahma Loka were underway.

"Just move the entire cities there?" Surya asked, his voice tinged with satisfaction.

"Yes, that's the plan," Indra confirmed, his smile unwavering.

The Celestial Soldiers worked swiftly. The newly trained 200,000-strong army had already assembled. The soldiers were stationed on sacred chariots, each armed with sacred spears and bows. They moved in perfect synchrony, rehearsing their formations and drills.

One by one, the Gandharva warriors leaped from the sacred chariots, spinning, jumping, and executing elaborate swings. Some posed as though ready to shoot arrows, while others synchronized their movements to the rhythmic, enchanting music of Svarga.

Their flawless performance lasted for several moments, captivating all who watched. Of course, Indra only spared a glance, his attention not held for long. What truly caught his eye, however, was something far more impressive: a massive warship looming behind the Gandharva army.

An immense and awe-inspiring vessel—Vimanas—towered above them, a symbol of power and grandeur.

The Vimanas was an extraordinary sight—an immense, seven-tiered warship, its surface gleaming like gold. Countless divine weapons—swords, bows, and arrows—were strategically placed upon it. The vessel was connected by ninety-nine smaller warships, linked by divine chains and adorned with divine pillars. The entire structure resembled a floating palace, a testament to celestial engineering.

"What is this?" Indra asked in awe, his voice tinged with both surprise and curiosity. "What sort of chain-link construction is this?!"

He eyed the Vimanas, puzzled. "This warship can't possibly be vulnerable to fire, can it?"

At that moment, Surya stood proudly, his chest puffed with satisfaction. He lifted his chin and spoke with confidence.

"I've learned from my past mistakes," Surya said, his tone brimming with pride. "I specifically requested Vishvakarma to design this enormous ship—Vimanas. It's built from ninety-nine warships, each interlocked and connected. Powered by our chakras, it's unbelievably fast and indestructible."

He gestured towards the ship with a gleam in his eyes. "No Asura can ever catch up to it, and none can break through it."

"And," Surya added with a sly grin, "I've embedded some of my divine sparks within it, so it can shine brightly at any moment. What do you think?"

"Absolutely magnificent!" Agni exclaimed, his eyes wide as he gazed upon the warship.

"Stunning!" Vayu nodded in approval, his voice full of admiration.

Even Varuna could hardly contain his amazement. "This is the most beautiful killing machine I've ever laid eyes on."

Indra, too, stood in stunned silence as he gazed up at the imposing vessel. He had to admit—it was nothing short of spectacular.

The Vimanas was a work of art, a perfect blend of elegance and power. The ninety-nine warships formed a magnificent, palace-like structure, with sharp, angular features that exuded a sense of iron-blooded authority. The golden exterior shimmered, radiating the brilliance of the sun, yet it carried an understated grace, like a swan gliding serenely across a clear blue sky, surrounded by clouds of light.

"Such a magnificent creation is truly worthy of the Devas!" Surya laughed, clearly pleased with himself.

Indra, still marveling at the ship's beauty, nodded. "Indeed, it's an extraordinary sight."

With that, he rose into the air, motioning for the Devas to follow. "Come, let us take a closer look!"

The Vimanas was seven stories high, each layer more impressive than the last. The top level housed a single massive warship—golden and green, it shone with a brilliant luster that could rival the sun itself. As Indra landed on the upper deck, he couldn't help but smile at the sight before him. It was everything he had expected and more.

The top floor of Vimanas mirrored the palace hall of Svarga perfectly, an exact replica, down to the smallest detail.

Indra couldn't help but feel a surge of admiration. Surya My father-in-law's craftsmanship is unparalleled! he thought with a hint of pride.

He stepped forward, drawing his golden sword with a flourish. With a wide grin, he ascended the throne, his posture regal as he waved his arm with bold enthusiasm.

"Onward!" Indra declared, his voice booming with confidence. "Let us meet the Lord!"

As soon as the words left his lips, the Devas stirred, responding to the call. The six lower levels of the Vimanas were quickly filled with celestial warriors, each preparing for the journey ahead.

Boom!

With a thunderous sound, the Vimanas, composed of ninety-nine interconnected warships, began to ascend. The massive vessel rose into the sky, surrounded by a soft, ethereal mist of white clouds, its vast form cutting through the heavens.

Below, the Gandharva warriors stood proudly on their sacred chariots, which also lifted into the air, following the Vimanas in perfect formation.

At this moment, all the Devas joined hands, their voices raised in unison as they praised the divine.

"Om Brahmane Namah! Om Aim Sarasvatyai Namah!"

The chants echoed through the air, reverberating across the skies.

As the enormous Vimanas soared toward the Brahma Loka, the sound of praise filled the heavens. Behind it, the sacred chariots, laden with Gandharvas, surged forward with remarkable speed, entering the realm of Brahma.

Meanwhile, in the Brahma Loka.

Brahma, startled, turned his attention to the sky as the colossal warship appeared without warning. His heart skipped a beat, his mind racing to make sense of this unexpected arrival.

It wasn't until his eyes landed on the army of Gandharvas following the Vimanas that he realized who it was. Indra and the Devas… but why are they here with the entire Svargalooka?

Brahma blinked, confusion clouding his mind. His thoughts immediately went back to the three Asuras Parvati had blessed earlier. Could it be that the Asuras have attacked Svarga so soon?

His brow furrowed in thought, unsure of the Devas' intentions.

---

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Chapter Text

Brahma's eyes drifted down to Svarga, the heavenly realm below. White clouds floated lazily, moving in harmony with the tranquil atmosphere. Majestic temples and sparkling palaces gleamed with divine light, while Yakshas and Gandharvas moved gracefully, embodying the perfect order of the realm.

Brahma blinked, his curiosity growing. Something felt off. He focused his divine sight, scanning the area for any sign of disturbance. But all he saw were the peaceful clouds and radiant buildings. Svarga remained calm, untouched by any unrest.

"Asuras?" he muttered to himself, puzzled. "Not even a trace of them in Svarga Loka."

His brows furrowed, the absence of conflict perplexing him. If Svarga remained undisturbed, why had they come here? What was their purpose?

As Brahma contemplated, the Vimanas descended closer to his realm. Indra and his entourage emerged from the topmost tier of the celestial warship, their figures luminous against the golden light. They hovered in the air, hands folded in reverence, before addressing their creator.

"Lord Brahma!" Indra called out, his voice carrying both reverence and pride. "The army has completed its training in Svarga. We owe our success to your teachings over these past years. Today, we have come to present our progress and humbly seek your advice against the upcoming attack from the Asuras."

Brahma's expression softened slightly, though his curiosity lingered. Indra's words were courteous, but his arrival still felt unexpected.

Without hesitation, Indra raised his hand, summoning his divine spear, Amogha, which gleamed with golden brilliance. He pointed it forward with authority, the spear's tip crackling with divine energy.

A flash of lightning erupted from the spear, streaking across the skies like a command. At once, the Gandharvas moved. Driving their sacred chariots and celestial ships, they began to maneuver in disciplined formations, their movements fluid yet precise, each one a testament to their rigorous training.

Brahma watched as the fleet passed by the celestial realm of Brahma Loka, the golden light of their vessels illuminating the heavens. Despite his lingering doubts, he found himself silently admiring the display of unity and power.

Atop the sacred chariot, the Gandharva soldiers moved with grace and precision, each showcasing their mastery of divine martial arts. Sacred spears thrust through the air with a deep, resonant hum. Shields gleamed as they deflected imaginary strikes, their surface reflecting the light like polished mirrors. Swords cut through the air in swift arcs, their blades flashing like lightning. Bows were drawn, and arrows flew with precision, each shot executed with perfect coordination. Every movement was flawless, a testament to their rigorous training and celestial skill.

On the divine ship that followed, ranks of Gandharva soldiers stood on either side, their spears gleaming under the golden light. Alongside them, other Gandharvas played veenas and drums, their music resonating with divine energy, uplifting the morale of the army and enhancing their coordination.

Brahma, seated on his divine lotus, watched the spectacle unfold. His four faces revealed a rare moment of astonishment, each expression reflecting his thoughts as they worked in unison. For a brief moment, he was caught off guard, his lips parting slightly in wonder.

"This... is for me to see," he murmured, realization dawning upon him.

Beside him, Devi Saraswati blinked her luminous eyes, her beauty rivaling the celestial glow of the performance. Noticing Brahma's surprise, a soft, amused smile graced her lips. The sight of her husband's astonishment filled her with quiet delight.

As the music swelled, a voice broke through the harmony. Surya, the Sun God, stepped forward, his radiant aura casting long shadows.

"The Vimanas can absorb our divine chakra and channel it outward," he said, his tone both thoughtful and eager. "Shall we demonstrate its strength? Perhaps... twice?"

His suggestion sparked immediate excitement among the Devas. Their eyes lit up, curiosity and enthusiasm shining through.

"Brilliant idea!" Vayu chimed in, his energy contagious.

"Indeed!" Agni added, his fiery disposition unmistakable. "This is the Craftsman God's latest creation, infused with stardust from the very essence of Surya. We must test its power!"

"It could prove invaluable against the Asura army," Varuna remarked, his normally calm demeanor giving way to anticipation. For once, even he seemed eager to partake in the display.

Indra, standing at the forefront, couldn't hide his curiosity. His divine spear, Amogha, rested lightly in his grip, as though waiting to be put to use. He glanced toward the massive Vimanas, its golden tiers gleaming like the crown jewel of Svarga.

"Yes," he said finally, his voice steady but tinged with excitement. "Let us see the full might of this celestial warship."

The Devas murmured their agreement, their collective anticipation growing. The Vimanas, the pride of the Svarga, were about to unleash its divine power. All eyes turned toward the vessel, eager to witness the spectacle that would soon unfold.

The celestial warship, the Vimanas, was the latest marvel crafted by Vishvakarma, the divine architect. It was a weapon of unparalleled brilliance, designed for the Devas' defense but never before tested. Today, in the safety of Brahma Loka, they had the perfect opportunity to unleash its power.

"Excellent!" Indra exclaimed, his commanding voice cutting through the air. "Let's test the might of this warship!"

The other Devas murmured in agreement, their divine energy buzzing with excitement. Indra raised his hand, signaling the start of the demonstration. He, too, was eager to see the potential of Vishvakarma's masterpiece.

"Follow me," Surya said with a bright grin. "From the top floor, we can channel our power into the Vimanas and control its full potential."

Indra and the Devas soared back to the Vimanas, their movements swift and graceful. Inside, they ascended to the highest level of the celestial vessel, where a grand throne awaited them. Each Deva took their seat, divine energy coursing through their hands as they channeled their power into the ship's core.

Even Brahma and Devi Saraswati, seated at a distance, watched with keen interest. The air buzzed with anticipation.

"What are they planning?" Saraswati murmured, her curiosity mirrored in Brahma's thoughtful expression.

"I'll go first!" Vayu declared eagerly. Without waiting for approval, he surged his divine power into the ship.

The effect was immediate. A powerful wind began to stir around the Vimanas, growing in intensity with each passing moment. What started as a soft breeze quickly transformed into a raging storm, the air crackling with energy. The storm condensed, forming an arrow of concentrated wind—a shimmering projectile that pulsated with destructive power.

With a sharp whistle, the wind arrow shot forward, its velocity increasing exponentially. First, it transformed into the shape of a white horse galloping through the air, then shifted into the sleek form of an antelope. Finally, with a deafening roar, it struck its target in the far distance, exploding with such force that it sent shockwaves rippling through the void.

Suddenly, a sharp sound like tearing silk filled the air. The void itself split open, and four massive hands appeared, gripping the edges of the tear and forcing it wider. A passage began to form, glowing ominously.

From the rift emerged Hayagriva, his equine head peeking cautiously into Brahma Loka. His eyes scanned his surroundings, his deep voice murmuring, "Where is this...?"

Before he could finish, the violent gusts from Vayu's unleashed power slammed into him with terrifying force.

"Ahhh!!!" Hayagriva bellowed, his voice echoing as he was thrown back into the void, the winds chasing him with unrelenting fury.

The Devas exchanged wide-eyed looks of astonishment, while Brahma and Saraswati stared in stunned silence. The Vimanas' power had not only pierced the heavens but disrupted the barriers of reality itself.

"What incredible might," Indra whispered, gripping his divine spear tighter. "This warship... it is truly a creation of the divine."

The atmosphere buzzed with exhilaration and unease as the Devas began to comprehend the extent of their celestial weapon's power. The Vimanas, though awe-inspiring, were also a force capable of altering the very fabric of existence.

In the periphery of his vision, Hayagriva caught a flash of movement—a massive black arrow streaking through the air above him. Moments later, a deafening explosion rang out, like the clash of Svarga with the earth itself. Wild gusts of wind erupted, scattering in every direction.

The cold, biting wind struck him with such force that Hayagriva's mane whipped violently in the air. His eyes widened in surprise and astonishment as he tried to make sense of the overwhelming scene before him.

The celestial army stretched out before him, gleaming and vast—an endless sea of warriors, arranged in row after row, so densely packed they seemed almost innumerable.

Dong, dong, dong...

The rhythmic pounding of veenas and the resonating beats of drums filled the air, their sounds merging into a thunderous war chant that reverberated throughout the heavens.

But what truly struck fear into Hayagriva's heart was the colossal golden spaceship floating just ahead of the army. The very same ship from which the black wind arrow had been fired. It gleamed with an ominous light, a symbol of power, unlike anything he had encountered.

Could it be? Hayagriva thought, his breath quickening. Have they discovered my plan?

His mind raced, his thoughts turning dark. Have they prepared an entire army to ambush me here?

His body began to tremble with cold sweat, his mane still fluttering wildly in the relentless wind.

"Quickly!" he shouted, voice urgent. "Let's move!"

Behind him, Madhu and Kaitambha urged him forward. The two of them shoved him from behind, pushing him with all their strength. Hayagriva stumbled but regained his footing just in time to step forward, crossing the space and entering Brahma Loka.

Whoosh!

The fabric of reality seemed to tear apart as they slipped into the sacred realm. In an instant, the three of them materialized inside Brahma Loka.

A chill swept over them, and Kaitambha shuddered. "Why is it so cold here?" he muttered, his eyes darting around in confusion.

Turning around, he froze. A massive black hurricane loomed behind them, swirling with terrifying force.

"Why are the Devas here?!" Madhu exclaimed, his eyes wide with disbelief as he stared at the celestial army arrayed before them.

The Devas, watching from their golden Vimanas, couldn't help but smile at the sight of the three intruders.

"This is truly remarkable!"

"As expected from the Vishvakarma, his creations are unparalleled!"

"Indeed, and with my divine chakra added, it can only be a masterpiece," Varuna boasted a sense of pride in his voice.

As he spoke, the Water God's divine power surged into the Vimanas.

"I'm ready!" Varuna declared, his tone eager.

In the Vimanas, invisible waves of water spread outward, rippling across the space in an instant. But then, everything fell eerily still.

"Strange, nothing is happening!" Vayu observed, his voice laced with surprise.

"Yeah, what's going on?" Sulie added, clearly puzzled.

Varuna frowned, sensing his divine power had dissipated without effect.

Had his chakra been wasted?

"Is it broken?" he muttered, his brow furrowing in concern.

Indra, too, appeared confused. He glanced at Surya.

"Didn't Surya ask the Vishvakarma for an operating manual for each deva?" Indra remarked with an air of disbelief. How could it be so difficult to operate?

"Who cares?" Agni interjected, his impatience evident. "It's my turn now!"

With a grin, Agni's divine power erupted, flowing into the Vimanas like a torrent of flame.

Boom!

In that instant, a light mirror appeared before the Devas, its surface shimmering with ethereal brilliance. Three red dots blinked ominously on the mirror, casting a strange glow across the room.

---

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Chapter Text

"What's this?" Indra furrowed his brows, staring at the three red dots glowing on the screen. He turned to Surya, hoping for clarity.

Surya's expression mirrored Indra's confusion. He leaned in closer, scrutinizing the red markings. "I'm not entirely sure either," he admitted, his voice tinged with uncertainty.

Vishvakarma had only provided basic instructions on operating the Vimanas. Beyond that, Surya was navigating uncharted territory.

"Let's go up and see for ourselves!" Vayu suggested, his curiosity clearly piqued.

Nodding in agreement, the Devas channeled their divine power into the Vimanas. Under their mental command, the colossal craft stirred, gliding forward with an almost ethereal grace.

At the same time, waves of red flames began to surge around the Vimanas. Agni had infused his divine chakra into the vessel. The accumulated power coalesced at the front of the spacecraft, forming a searing ball of flame. The fire twisted and churned, growing in intensity until it became a massive, blazing sphere.

Boom!

In an instant, the concentrated flames erupted forward, roaring toward the three Asuras who had dared to block their path.

"What?"

Madhu's eyes widened in shock. Instead of retreating, the Devas had advanced—and now they were launching an attack! His expression hardened, anger flashing across his face, still streaked with white dirt.

"You dare challenge me?" he growled, his voice thick with indignation.

With a sharp motion, Madhu extended his hands. A vivid blue light pulsed in his palms before solidifying into a colossal Gada. The weapon hummed with supreme power as he hurled it directly at the oncoming inferno.

Boom!

The collision was instantaneous. The flames shattered upon impact, scattering into a cascade of fiery embers. Sparks shot out like meteors, painting the sky with trails of light. The air became a tapestry of blazing fire and shimmering silver, an awe-inspiring display of destruction and beauty.

The blazing flames erupted in harmony with the swirling black hurricane, creating a mesmerizing sight. The wind howled fiercely, feeding the roaring red fire, and together, they formed a colossal tornado of flames that connected the heavens to the earth.

"It's breathtaking," Brahma murmured, seated cross-legged on a lotus, his expression contemplative. The brilliance of the scene before him was awe-inspiring.

When Brahma first saw Indra and the other Devas arrive, accompanied by sacred chariots and suspended palaces trailing behind their celestial army, he had assumed they were fleeing for refuge. The opulence of the entourage seemed more like an exodus than a battlefront.

But now?

The Devas had arrived prepared for more than mere defense. They had brought forth an unprecedented warship, a vessel unlike anything time had yet seen. Even more surprising was the presence of three Asuras among their ranks.

Wait—Asuras?

Brahma's four faces twisted in surprise, his white beard curling as his many eyes honed in on the trio. Recognition dawned instantly.

Hayagriva is the mighty leader of the Daityas clan. His strength rivaled that of Hiranyaksha and Hiranyakashipu, and now, with the blessings of the Mahadevi, he could not be harmed by anything identical to himself.

Madhu and Kaitambha, beings born from Vishnu's earwax, possessed immense innate power close to Vishnu himself. They were protected by boons that rendered them invulnerable and unkillable unless they willingly chose death.

Brahma's eyes widened in disbelief, nearly causing him to roll them.

These three? Here?

Could it be that the Asuras had chased the celestial army from Svarga to Brahma Loka? The thought alone left Brahma uneasy, the implications of such a confrontation too great to ignore.

…

The Vimanas surged to life as Surya channeled his divine chakra into the spacecraft. The entire vessel flared with brilliant, sun-like energy, beams of dazzling light flashing from every surface. The intensity of the heat became palpable, filling the air with an oppressive warmth. The temperature inside the temple rose sharply as if Surya's radiant brilliance had reached its zenith.

It felt as though Surya had reverted to his original, blazing self. The heat was overwhelming.

"Surya!" Indra shouted, his voice tinged with alarm. "This Vimanas is burning up! Don't cause trouble!"

The other Devas were equally shocked, watching with concern as the temperature around them soared. Indra quickly glanced at Surya, then subtly shifted away, wary of the sun god's explosive power.

"It's fine!" Surya reassured them quickly. "It'll stabilize soon!"

Before any of the Devas could respond, a voice, deep and commanding, filled the air—Brahma's voice.

"No!" Brahma's warning cut through the tension. "Three Asuras have entered Brahmaloka. They're right in front of you!"

The Devas froze, their faces registering a mix of surprise and confusion. All eyes turned toward the three glowing dots in the light mirror.

Indra's eyes widened in realization. So those three dots are the three Asuras!

Vayu looked bewildered, while Agni's face was filled with panic. Varuna's expression mirrored his concern. Even Surya appeared flustered—not only because of the Asuras' arrival but also due to the increasing heat within the Vimanas. The spacecraft was growing hotter by the second, the red light intensifying and casting a fiery glow over the Devas.

It felt as if the Vimanas might explode at any moment.

"Quick, retreat!" Indra ordered, his voice urgent.

With a swift motion, Indra slammed his hand against the armrest of his throne, channeling his divine power into it. The other Devas followed suit, each of them pouring their energy into the structure. In an instant, the Vimanas became a furnace of heat, its surface radiating blinding, scorching light. A swirl of wind, water, and fire surrounded the ship, forming a halo of different divine forces that shielded the warship. Lightning cracked from the vessel, striking out beyond the iron walls created by the ninety-nine other ships, sending loud roars echoing through the air.

"Retreat!" Indra shouted, his voice urgent, as his gaze darted toward Surya.

But the Vimanas didn't budge.

Indra's eyes widened in disbelief as he turned sharply to Surya. "Why isn't it retreating?"

Surya's face twisted in panic. "I can't control it either!" he admitted, his voice shaking. "The Vimanas... it seems like it's going to explode!"

Surya's words hit like a thunderclap, crashing into the hearts of the Devas. Shock, fear, and disbelief flashed across their faces, a wave of dread that rippled through them all. Even Surya, who was known for his radiant confidence, couldn't mask his embarrassment as the situation spiraled beyond his control.

The Vimanas was supposed to be a test flight... and now it's on the brink of exploding? Surya thought, inwardly cursing Vishvakarma's craftsmanship. Was this ship even ready for deployment?

"Run!" Indra bellowed, his voice filled with urgency. His crimson cloak billowed behind him as he bolted from his seat, flying toward the exit of the temple.

The other Devas followed, taking to the air in a desperate scramble, their powerful forms shooting out of the Vimanas like startled birds, fleeing for their lives.

Boom!

The Vimanas erupted with a brilliant, blazing light, resembling the sun falling from the heavens. The ship surged forward, unstoppable in its path, as though driven by an otherworldly force.

Hayagriva, his mane whipping in the wind, stared in awe at the descending spacecraft. His eyes narrowed as the massive ship bore down on them.

"What kind of weapon is this?" he muttered to himself, a note of awe and fear in his voice.

Madhu and Kaitambha, both of whom had spent years training without much contact with the outside world, looked on in equal amazement. "Could this be a new weapon the Devas have developed to deal with us?" they wondered aloud.

Boom!

The Vimanas exploded with a deafening roar, sending shockwaves that reverberated throughout Brahma Loka. The brilliance of the explosion was blinding, like a second sun rising in the sky, mixing with the primal forces of nature.

Brahma, too, stared in shock at the spectacle before him.

---

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A thunderous explosion echoed from Brahma Loka, rippling through space and time, its reverberations reaching distant realms in an instant.

On Mount Kailash, Lord Shiva sat upon a gray-white boulder, an unshakable figure at the heart of the universe. His presence radiated serenity, as still and profound as the depths of an ancient well.

Beside him sat Devi Parvati, her beauty radiant and divine. She smiled, her joy as vibrant as a blooming flower. Clad in resplendent red adorned with intricate gold jewelry, she exuded grace. Around her elegant neck hung a garland of purple-blue datura blossoms, their delicate petals contrasting with her glowing complexion. Her hands idly played with the garland, a gentle motion that mirrored her lighthearted demeanor.

Nearby, the sacred bull Nandi sat with a serene smile, his gaze fixed reverently on his Lord, intoxicated by the divine presence.

Suddenly, a resounding boom! The vibrations from Brahma Loka rippled through Kailash, causing the pristine, snow-white peaks of the holy mountain to tremble.

With a single, deliberate movement, Shiva pressed his toes against the rock beneath him. In that instant, an unfathomable power descended, as if to bind Svarga and the earth together. The trembling ceased immediately, and the sacred mountain stood firm once more, undisturbed.

Shiva's gaze grew distant, piercing through realms as he turned his eyes toward Brahma Loka, his expression unreadable, yet profound.

....

The Milky Sea stretched endlessly, lying adjacent to the resplendent Vaikuntha, its waves gently kissing the borders of the divine realm. The brilliance of Vaikuntha radiated like an eternal aegis—unshakable and invincible—a bastion of tranquility standing steadfast against the restless turbulence of the Milky Sea.

Trumpet! Trumpet!

The majestic white elephant Airavata raised his mighty trunk high as he waded through the vast, crystalline waters of Vaikuntha. With an effortless motion, he dipped his trunk into the lake, inhaling deeply before lifting it to the heavens and releasing a powerful spray of water. The sparkling droplets arced beautifully, catching the sunlight to form a vivid rainbow that painted the sky.

Splash!

The cascading water landed squarely on the mount of Agni, the Fire Deva—a disgruntled goat who shook its soaked fur in protest, bleating indignantly.

Behind Airavata, the water Deva Varuna's mount, Makara, swam gracefully alongside the wind Deva Vayu's swift gazelle, the two gliding through the lake with ease.

Rumble!

Watching this playful display, the Devas of water and wind burst into mischievous laughter, their mirth filling the serene air.

On the shore, Agni stood atop his goat, which pawed at the ground with frustration. Flames flickered from its mouth as it let out an irritated bleat, glaring at the offenders in the water.

Garuda, the king of birds, could take no more. Folding his wings behind him, he placed his hands on his hips and strode purposefully toward the lake, his imposing figure shimmering with celestial authority.

"That's enough!" Garuda exclaimed, his voice sharp and commanding. "You were sent here by the Devas to fulfill your duties, not to frolic like children!"

He pointed toward a nearby patch of green grass, where Surya's mount, the seven celestial horses, lounged atop a sunlit stone. Its alabaster form was so still and motionless that, at a glance, it could have been mistaken for a marble statue.

"Look at them!" Garuda continued, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "That's dedication for you! While you're splashing around, they're over there, are in such a deep meditation they've turned to stone!"

Airavata lifted his trunk again, letting out a triumphant trumpet.

"Trumpet! Trumpet!"

Garuda's golden eyes narrowed as he turned back toward the elephant. "What's that? You're saying it'll definitely be different next time?"

He frowned, his suspicion growing. "I've heard that before… from someone."

As Vishnu contemplated, the aftershocks from Brahma Loka spread outward. The once-calm Milky Sea roared to life, its waters churning violently as towering waves crashed against the shores of Vaikuntha.

Vaikuntha trembled slightly under the onslaught.

But then, the golden shrine at its heart pulsed with a radiant, eternal light. The brilliance illuminated all directions, an unshakable force that pushed back the chaos and stabilized the divine realm in an instant.

At that moment, Vishnu stirred.

He rose slowly from his serpent bed, his expression a mix of serenity and sorrow. His handsome face was tinged with melancholy, and his eyes carried the weight of ancient memories.

Devi Lakshmi, ever gentle and devoted, remained by his side. Her gaze, filled with warmth and concern, never left him as she reached out to lightly press his ankle.

"Husband," she asked softly, "why do you seem so troubled?"

Vishnu's eyes grew distant, shimmering with a faint light as he murmured, "Do you remember those two asuras born from me?"

Lakshmi's expression shifted, realization dawning on her. "Madhu and Kaitabha?" she replied.

He nodded faintly, his thoughts pulling him deeper into the past.

Madhu and Kaitabha were born during the time Vishnu was in deep meditation. They were manifestations of tamas (ignorance or darkness) but also carried within them the potential to become exceptionally righteous asuras. Their inherent energy and strength were unparalleled, and Vishnu had hoped they might channel their gifts toward cosmic harmony.

Seeking greater power, the two performed intense austerities to please Goddess Mahadevi (Adi Shakti), earning her a boon, which made them nearly invincible. Their future seemed bright, with a chance to bring virtue and balance even among the asuras.

But fate had been unkind.

They fell under the sway of Hayagriva's deceit, manipulated by his cunning words and twisted guidance. Corrupted and lost, Madhu and Kaitabha spiraled into indulgence and destruction, abandoning their potential for good to become asuras consumed by darkness.

"I only hope they don't sink deeper into their despair," Vishnu murmured, his voice laced with both regret and determination. His eyes, now sharp and focused, reflected the turmoil brewing in Brahma Loka.

…

"My Satya Loka..."

Brahma's voice was low, his words heavy with disbelief. His mouth hung slightly open, and his long beard quivered as if stirred by an unseen breeze. He murmured the words more to himself than to anyone else.

Beside him, Devi Sarasvati wore an expression of astonishment. Her sharp gaze was fixed on the distant explosion that had shaken the heavens, her veena resting in her hands.

"Is that... Asuric energy over there?" she asked, her brows knitting together in concern.

Brahma's voice deepened as he replied, "Indeed. Danava Hayagriva, along with Madhu and Kaitabha. The three of them... they've just received a blessing from Mahadevi. I hadn't expected them to appear here, of all places."

Devi Sarasvati tightened her grip on the veena, her serene demeanor strained as she glanced toward the gathered Devas.

Around them, a fierce wind surged in every direction, carrying the oppressive heat of the explosion. The ripples of destruction spread outward in relentless waves, shaking the very fabric of space.

High above the site of the blast, the Devas stood suspended in the air, their divine garments whipping violently in the gale. Their expressions ranged from unease to outright trepidation as they exchanged uncertain glances.

"Stay calm!"

Indra's voice cut through the chaos like a crack of thunder. His crimson cloak billowed behind him as he raised one hand, his tone commanding and resolute. "Do not falter! The Lord Brahama is with us!"

The Devas straightened at his words, some nodding in reluctant agreement.

Brahma, standing slightly behind them, felt a flicker of relief. His grip on the Vedas tightened, and for a moment, he considered bestowing a blessing upon Indra.

Indra... this leader of Svarga, Brahma mused, his heart swelling with pride. He is bold enough to stand firm in defense of the Brahma Loka. How moving!

The other Devas turned to Indra, their gazes a mixture of surprise and reverence. The King of Svarga stood tall, his presence brimming with undeniable authority.

"Alright," Indra said, his voice steady and commanding, "I will stand with you. Together, we protect the Brahma Loka!"

"Attack!"

Vayu's voice rang out, sharp and clear. A gleaming spear appeared in his hand as the Dev of Wind readied himself.

"Fight! Fight! Fight!"

The battle cry resounded through the heavens, led by the voices of Surya, Agni, and Varuna. Their combined shouts echoed like rolling thunder, shaking the air and igniting the resolve of every divine being present.

Amid the chaos, the Devas' unity burned as brightly as the sun itself.

"Woohoo~!"

Behind Indra, the Gandharva army roared with exhilaration, and their spirits ignited. A massive white conch was raised toward the heavens, its resounding call piercing through the air.

The soldiers' morale surged, their cheers blending with the thunderous rhythm of drums. The pounding beats echoed like a storm, shaking the skies with their intensity.

"King of Kings! Indra~!"

Boom! Boom!
Boom, boom, boom!

Aboard the sacred ship at the rear, Gandharva warriors leaped in unison, their drumsticks striking the colossal drums with fervor.

"O wielder of the mighty Vajra, conqueror of storms! O sovereign who drinks the celestial soma!"

"The King of the Devas stands unmatched! Aditi's pride!"

The hymns rose higher, weaving together a magnificent symphony of divine praise. Warriors grasped their radiant spears, thrusting them forward as they sang with unrestrained passion.

The sacred melody spread across the battlefield, carried by the wind to all corners. Even Devi Saraswati found herself swayed by the rhythm, her fingers instinctively plucking the strings of her veena in harmony.

Why are they all singing?!

Indra, caught off guard, whipped his head around to glance at the scene.

To his astonishment, the Gandharvas were in high spirits, their voices raised in booming chants as they brandished their spears.

This wasn't what I meant! Don't start a fight!

Indra's brow furrowed. He had only sought to reassure the Devas, not ignite the battlefield with fervor. What if their excitement provoked the enemy?

"The radiant light of the divine Vajra, the embodiment of valor~"
"Raise your weapon and strike down the foe~"
"In the realm of boundless generosity, none surpass him—Aditya, Indra~!"

The hymns grew louder, echoing across the battlefield with unstoppable energy.

From within the chaotic aftermath of the explosion, three figures emerged.

Madhu and Kaitabha stood side by side, their combined strength shielding them from the worst of the blast. Behind them, Hayagriva followed, his equine face twisted with unease.

Though shaken, the Asuras remained unscathed, their bodies protected by the blessings they had received.

Hayagriva's eyes widened as he took in the sight above: the imposing figures of the Devas against the backdrop of swirling divine light.

The booming hymns of the Gandharvas rang in his ears, each word sinking deeper into his chest. His throat tightened, and he swallowed hard, a bead of sweat rolling down his face.

An inexplicable fear gripped his heart, growing with every note of the sacred song.

---

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Chapter Text

"Let's retreat!" Hayagriva's voice trembled slightly, betraying his unease. His sharp eyes darted across the battlefield, taking in the radiant figures of Indra and the Devas.

He clenched his fists, his mind racing. I'm no weaker than Hiranyaksha or Hiranyakashipu, he thought, but this... while I was busy in my penance, Svarga has changed.

The scene before him was overwhelming. The Devas had come prepared—no, overprepared.

First, there was the explosive warship.

If not for the divine boon that shielded him from death, the force of that blast would've done serious damage. The sheer scale of it left him shaken. Had the Devas chosen to swarm him right after, the consequences would have been worse than death.

But that wasn't the worst of it.

The chaos and noise they were creating—it was too much. If they continued to fight here, it wouldn't be long before Vishnu and Shiva took notice of their intentions.

We came to Brahma Loka to steal, not to start a war, Hayagriva thought bitterly. Their element of surprise was gone, and the Devas had clearly anticipated them.

He gritted his teeth. There's no chance for victory this time. We'll have to regroup and try again later.

"Now is not the right time," Hayagriva said, his voice firm. "Let's go!"

But his words didn't sit well with Madhu and Kaitambha.

Both brothers tightened their grip on the massive vajra in their hands. Their expressions darkened—anger and frustration written plainly on their faces.

"Why are we leaving?" Kaitambha growled, his tone cold and biting. "The three of us have been blessed by Mahadevi; none of them can kill us. What is there to fear?"

"The sound of that wretched conch..." Madhu spat, his voice dripping with disdain. His brows knitted together in irritation.

"It's unbearable!" Kaitambha snapped, his teeth clenched.

The two brothers exchanged a glance, their frustration mirrored in each other's eyes. Then, as if reaching a silent agreement, they turned their attention to the massive mace-like weapon in their hands.

With a synchronized motion, they raised the colossal mace high above their heads, their muscles straining under its weight.

"Order them to stop," Kaitambha hissed, venom in his voice.

"And if they won't," Madhu said with a cruel smirk, "we'll make them."

The brothers slammed the maces together, a thunderous impact that sent shockwaves through the air. The vibrations rippled across the battlefield, a clear declaration of defiance against the Devas.

The deafening clang of the giant Mace striking the ground reverberated in all directions, sending shockwaves through the air. The rhythmic pounding transformed into a sinister, domineering sound that rippled outward like an oppressive wave, crashing against the Gandharva army's celebratory music. The dissonance was unbearable, as if trying to suffocate the vibrant rhythm of the gongs and drums.

The Gandharva warriors clutched their ears in agony, their once confident expressions contorted with pain.

Indra's sharp gaze swept over the battlefield as he winced. "My power… it's weakening!" he muttered, astonished by the creeping numbness spreading through his body. His muscles felt heavy, his divine energy sluggish.

Turning to his comrades, his expression darkened. Surya's light dimmed to a faint glow, a look of panic etched on his radiant face. Vayu, the Wind Dev, was gasping for breath, his strength barely holding him upright. Agni clutched his chest, pale and trembling as though consumed by his flames, while Varuna stood frozen, his movements stiff like a statue carved from stone.

"This sound… it's no ordinary noise!" Indra realized, a sense of foreboding sinking into his chest.

Suddenly, cutting through the oppressive rhythm came the sharp, vibrant call of conch shells. Woo-woo-woo~

The clear, resonant sound rippled through the battlefield like waves across an endless sea, each note imbued with divine grace. It carried a stirring, high-pitched melody, as though some celestial being lay atop a serpent bed, playing the conch with serene joy on the milky ocean.

Under the celestial harmony, the sinister pounding of the Mace lost its dominance. The oppressive force dissipated, and the Devas began to recover. Indra's strength surged back, and the other Devas' auras stabilized. Surya's light reignited, Vayu's breath steadied, and Agni's flames roared to life once more.

The Gandharva warriors rallied, their spirits soaring as joy flooded their hearts. Once again, they raised their voices in jubilant song, their war hymns echoing across the battlefield with renewed vigor.

"The sacred Vajra's radiant light, the embodiment of heroic might~
Hey~! The lord of a hundred sacrifices summons thunder and lightning, commands the rains, and reclaims the Kamdhenu~
He who wields the celestial Vajra, master of Airavata, strikes down Vritra with power unmatched, his glory shining bright~"

The sounds of conch, drums, and harmonious singing intertwined in perfect unity, creating an almost tangible force that clashed with the pounding rhythm of the Mace.

Hayagriva, the horse-headed Asura, narrowed his eyes as he observed the resurgence of divine energy. His lips curled into a grim line.

"Then I'll lend them a hand!" he declared, his deep voice cutting through the cacophony.

With a swift motion, Hayagriva assumed his stance, planting his left leg firmly while bending his right. His imposing figure radiated power, and the ground beneath him trembled as he prepared to join the fray.

Swish!

A massive divine bow materialized in the hands of the horse-headed Ashura, its ethereal presence vibrating with power. With a swift motion, he stepped on the bow with his right foot to steady it, his fingers flying over the bowstring in a blur. The rhythmic plucking of the strings responded fiercely to the pounding rhythm of the two Madhu brothers, creating a symphony of divine energy.

Clank! Clank! Clank!

The sound of the bowstring reverberated through the air, mixing with the thunderous blows of the giant Mace. The clash of these contrasting rhythms filled the air with an electrifying intensity, rippling through the very fabric of existence.

The tension between the music and the booming strikes of the Mace created an almost tangible force, one that shook the entire Brahma Loka. The vibrations spread like waves, distorting the air and reverberating through the very soul of the universe.

Brahma, observing from afar, widened his eyes in alarm. His face reflected a blend of concern and restraint. As the Creator, he understood all too well that any intervention on his part could lead to catastrophic consequences.

On one hand, Brahma held the Vedas, embodying the wisdom that governs the cosmos. In another, a rosary symbolized the eternal flow of time. His third hand grasped a kamandal, the vessel containing the essence of all life, while his fourth cradled a lotus, representing the purity of the soul.

Once he chose to intervene, the impact would be inevitable, and the delicate balance of the universe could be forever disrupted.

"This is the sound of origin!" Brahma muttered, his voice filled with urgency.

He paused, his gaze sharpening as he continued, "All things in the universe are governed by vibration. Om – the primordial sound of existence. It is the very vibration that birthed the cosmos, a force more powerful than any weapon."

Brahma's words lingered in the air like an ancient truth. The power of sound was immense—near infinite.

Indra, listening intently, felt a flicker of realization. His mind began to churn with understanding, his thoughts turning to a long-forgotten relic.

Swish!

In an instant, a flash of divine light illuminated his hands. The conch Panchjanya materialized before him, its white surface gleaming with purity, the very essence of tranquility. The mouth of the conch was wide open as if poised to release a thunderous roar, the sound of crashing waves ready to burst forth.

Indra gazed at the conch, a rare smile playing on his lips. He hadn't blown this conch in ages, but today... today felt different. The time had come.

With a steady grip, he raised the divine conch to his lips.

Woo woo woo!!!

A powerful, exhilarating sound erupted from Panchjanya, its resonance reverberating through the air with an intensity that sent shockwaves rippling outward. The divine music surged like mighty waves crashing against the shore, filling the atmosphere with fierce, invigorating energy.

The sound spread in all directions, its inspiring power uplifting the Devas and Gandharvas surrounding the battlefield. Each of them felt the energy pulse through their very beings, revitalizing their spirits.

"We must join in!" Surya exclaimed, his gaze intense as he looked around, sensing the change.

"How do we help?" Agni inquired, his brow furrowing with concern.

Surya's expression softened as he furrowed his brow in thought, trying to devise a plan.

"There is always a way," Vayu declared with a spark of determination in his eyes.

With swift grace, Vayu, the God of Wind, extended his hands, summoning his divine power. In a flash of radiant light, a flute materialized in his grasp. With a rhythmic motion, he began to play the flute, each note resonating with divine energy.

Thump thump thump thump...

The other Devas, recognizing the signal, quickly followed suit. Agni summoned his drum, its deep, booming beats representing the primal force of fire. Surya raised his chakra, emitting a brilliant, radiant hum that pulsed with the energy of the sun itself.

Soma, the Moon God, manifested his tambura, its soft, resonating tones invoking the tranquil light of the moon. Varuna, the Lord of the Waters, conjured his conch that echoed across the oceans, amplifying the deep, rolling sounds of the sea.

Then, the Gandharvas appeared, the celestial musicians who were the maestros of the divine symphony. Chitrasena, the chief Gandharva, wielded his veena, producing divine melodies that intertwined with the other instruments, while Tumburu, his companion, played the vina. Vishvavasu and Hara joined in with their flutes, adding layers of harmonious sound, while Maitreya beat on his drum, a deep and resonating rhythm that harmonized with the beats of Agni's drum.

The resulting cacophony of beats, chimes, and melodies merged into a single force, growing stronger by the second.

The combined power surged forward like a tidal wave, a united front of divine energy aimed at the Hayagriva, Madhu, and Kaitambha.

Rumble!!!

The impact of the music collided with the force of the giant Maces, shattering them into a thousand pieces that scattered through the air. The force of the explosion sent Madhu and Kaitambha flying backward, their bodies tossed like ragdolls in the wake of the collision.

Hayagriva was no exception, his body hurtling backward with the same force. His divine bow, fully drawn, snapped under immense pressure, and the string broke with a sharp crack, recoiling violently. The broken string whipped back with such force that it struck the back of Ashura's hand, leaving a painful mark.

For a moment, everything seemed to hang in the balance—an overwhelming clash of sound, force, and divine power reverberating through the very fabric of the universe.

Hayagriva crashed to the ground, his body shaking with exhaustion. Panting heavily, fatigue and soreness surged through him like a relentless tide. His eyes widened in fear as he glanced ahead, but he didn't notice the faint bloodstain marking the back of his hand.

The wound quickly healed under the powerful regenerative abilities of Ashura, fading away as if it had never existed.

Madhu and Kaitambha, their resolve unwavering, rose to their feet once again. The two of them charged toward the fallen Ashura with fierce determination, their steps full of unrelenting energy.

"What should we do now?" Madhu asked, his voice tinged with uncertainty.

"Should we keep going?" Kaitambha added, his gaze fixed on the ongoing battle, eyes flickering with doubt.

Although neither Madhu nor Kaitambha had sustained any serious injuries, they couldn't ignore the fact that they had been thoroughly outclassed in this confrontation. It was not so much a defeat as it was a clear indication that they were up against a power far beyond their own—one that they had yet to fully grasp. Could they continue? Should they?

Madhu hesitated. A part of him wanted to push forward, to test the limits of their strength, but the situation was starting to feel like more than just a challenge.

But Hayagriva had already made up his mind. His gaze hardened with resolve. "No, we're not staying in Brahma Loka any longer," he declared, his voice unwavering. "Vishnu is already aiding them with the sound of the origin. If we keep pressing, he may intervene directly. We're done here."

Madhu's eyes narrowed in confusion. "But… we're here to steal the Vedas," he protested. "How can we just leave now?"

The horse-headed Ashura shot him a sharp, irritated look. "Stop asking so many questions!" he snapped, his tone rising in frustration. "This is part of the plan! Just trust me." He pointed at Kaitambha's nose, his brow furrowed with annoyance.

The tension in the air thickened, but Ashura's words were final. There would be no more fighting today. The Vedas, for now, would have to wait.

---

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Chapter Text

"Move!" Hayagriva barked, his eyes narrowing in fury. He had already made his decision to leave, but if these two refused to comply, they would feel the full force of his wrath. If Vishnu intervened and ruined his plans, it would be disastrous—he would lose not only his life but also his plans. That was an outcome he could not afford.

Madhu and Kaitambha exchanged a glance, their expressions unreadable. For a moment, they were silent as if weighing their options. Then, without a word, both extended their right hands simultaneously. In an instant, they clapped them together, and their bodies radiated a surge of invisible power. The wind howled, building into a violent storm that tore through Brahma Loka, ripping the very fabric of space itself.

A tear, in reality, and space-time appeared before them.

Hayagriva's eyes widened as he surveyed the scene. He spotted a distant patch of land covered in flowing magma, its heat rising in waves. The pungent scent of sulfur assaulted his senses, unmistakable and sharp.

Yes… This is the scenery of the patala loka, he thought with satisfaction. The smell of sulfur... authentic, raw.

A grin spread across his face as he gently stroked his mane, the familiar smell filling him with an eager joy. He wasted no time, jumping into the rift with renewed vigor, excitement lighting his every step.

Madhu and Kaitambha turned, their eyes locking onto the Devas with defiance.

"Just wait," Madhu sneered. "This place is ours sooner or later."

"You can't keep it for long," Kaitambha added, his tone cold and full of contempt.

Their words echoed through the air like a promise of trouble. Without hesitation, they both rushed forward, pushing past the remnants of the space they had torn asunder.

Indra clicked his tongue in frustration, unable to hide the irritation on his face. Just like that, some asura could have raided Brahma Loka... he thought bitterly. What are they really up to?

"We won!" Vayu exclaimed, his voice full of disbelief and relief. After so many setbacks, the Devas had finally managed to repel the Asuras. They had regained the glory of the Svarga, and it felt like a hard-earned victory.

It hadn't been easy, but the Devas had come out on top at last.

"It's worth remembering!" Surya added with a smile, his voice brimming with optimism.

Despite the recent failure of their Vimanas' test flight, which had been undeniably frustrating, the mood among the Devas remained high. It paled in comparison to the exhilaration of having repelled the three blessed Asuras. In the grand scheme of things, what did a failed spaceship matter?

"Who cares about the Vimana?" Surya continued, his tone dismissive. "The worst-case scenario is simply going back to the Dev of Craftsman and having it rebuilt. With his abilities, how could the Dev of Craftsman not repair it? What matters most is that we, the Devas, returned victorious!"

Victory! The word rang out in the air like a sweet melody.

"This is the victory our Devas deserve!" Surya proclaimed.

Agni, his face lighting up with enthusiasm, chimed in. "How about we capitalize on this victory, march into the patalaloka, and destroy every last Asura?"

His words were filled with the fire of vindication. The Devas had suffered humiliation at the hands of Hiranyaksha and been captured by Jintan the last time, but now they had finally defeated the Asuras. Their spirits soared.

For the first time in ages, the Devas were brimming with confidence, their pride renewed.

Indra, however, couldn't suppress a sigh. He took a deep breath, then clapped one hand over his face, trying to stifle his mounting frustration. It seemed the Devas were more eager to celebrate than reflect. They had won a small battle, but there was no need to rush into another fight just yet.

"Svarga can't withstand your plans," Indra muttered under his breath.

But before he could elaborate further, Varuna, ever the opportunist, chuckled and spoke up. "I think we should start a banquet to celebrate this hard-earned victory!"

The suggestion lit up the room like a spark.

"Alright! All right!" the Devas and Gandharvas cheered in unison. "That's more like it! Let's celebrate this hard-won victory!"

Indra, standing at the center of the jubilant commotion, shook his head with a knowing smile. Well, he thought, I take back what I said. His brothers didn't just love to make trouble for themselves—they reveled in their moments of relaxation as well. At least they kept their chaos contained and, on top of that, it was more cost-effective than the usual uproar.

Indra cleared his throat, collecting his thoughts. Fine. Let them enjoy this. A little indulgence won't hurt—at least for now.

The sound of conches that had been echoing through the void abruptly ceased, casting an eerie silence over the scene.

Indra, with a reverent expression, clasped his hands together and bowed his head towards the vast expanse.

"Om Nārāyaṇāya Vidmahe!" he declared solemnly.

At once, the other Devas followed suit, their hands joining in prayer as they echoed his words.

"Om Nārāyaṇāya Vidmahe!"
...

The chorus of praises filled the air, their voices carrying with deep devotion. Thanks to Vishnu's divine intervention, they triumphed over the three Asuras in this battle.

Far in the sea of milk, Vishnu lay peacefully on his serpent bed, a soft smile on his lips. He picked up his conch again, the familiar curve of the shell resting in his hand as he gently blew into it. Despite his calm demeanor, there lingered a subtle trace of worry in his eyes.

Meanwhile, in the Brahma Loka, the Devas gathered around Brahma, eager to seek understanding.

"Pranam Lord Brahma!" Indra began, his hands clasped in prayer. "What is the origin of these three Asuras?"

Many other Devas also looked to Brahma with curiosity, silently praying as they awaited his answer. They wanted to understand the origins of these three powerful Asuras who had nearly bested them.

Brahma nodded, his gaze distant as he began to speak, his voice measured and calm.

"The first of these Asuras is Hayagriva," Brahma began, his tone grave. "With the neck of a horse and the body of a man, he hails from the Daitya clan. He has long been engaged in rigorous penance and received a blessing: He could be killed only by another being just like him."

A murmur of surprise rippled through the gathered Devas as Brahma paused briefly, then continued.

"As for the other two, their origins lie in the Preservor of the Brahman," Brahma said, his eyes glinting with a hidden excitement.

The Devas leaned forward, their curiosity piqued as Brahma's words took on a more cryptic tone.

With a shift in his posture, Brahma straightened himself and spoke with renewed fervor, his voice gaining weight.

"Their names are Madhu and Kaitambha. These two were born from Vishnu himself, and their power rivals even that of the King of Asuras—or perhaps even surpasses it. They were gifted with a special boon from Mahadevi herself: they cannot die unless they willingly choose to die."

Brahma's eyes twinkled with a mixture of pride and concern. For years, it had been his blessings that had gone awry, but now, it was Vishnu's turn to face the consequences.

A smirk played on Brahma's lips as he straightened his posture, the excitement in his voice barely contained.

"These Asuras, powerful beyond measure, are now the greatest threat to Svarga. But it is up to Vishnu to handle them."

Indra, hearing this, felt a heavy weight settle in his chest. The situation was far more complicated than he had imagined. Asura powers, bound by divine blessings, were not to be underestimated.

Fortunately, the Devas had deployed Vimanas—aerial war-chariots forged by Vishvakarma himself. With those divine crafts, they were able to intercept and overpower the three Asuras swiftly and efficiently. Had it been a direct battle, however, Indra knew the outcome would have been disastrous. He could easily have taken down one of them, but the remaining two would have been more than capable of overwhelming the Devas in a relentless assault.

"Hayagriva, the horse-headed Danava?" Indra mused, his thoughts racing. "Was he here to steal the Vedas?"

Indra had been exposed to many of the stories from Indian mythology, albeit through TV series and the occasional tale passed down through the ages. While he hadn't seen them all, certain details stuck with him. The name "Hayagriva" echoed in his mind, and he suddenly recalled the ancient myth: the most famous legend of Hayagriva revolves around his theft of the Vedas.

Consumed by greed for knowledge and power, Hayagriva stole the sacred texts from the devas, causing great chaos in the cosmos. Vishnu, in his divine incarnation as a horse-headed being (Hayagriva), defeated him after a long battle, restoring the Vedas and maintaining the balance of knowledge in the universe.

After Hayagriva's death, Vishnu's incarnation, Hayagriva, took it upon himself to safeguard the Vedas, ensuring that they would never again fall into the wrong hands.

"So that's it..." Indra thought, realization dawning on him. "This Hayagriva's goal was to steal the Vedas!"

His eyes widened in shock as the puzzle pieces clicked into place.

"Then, I hit them in the face this time," he muttered under his breath, his resolve hardening. The next step was clear—he would not allow them to succeed.

Indra took a deep breath, feeling a surge of energy and clarity. He had thought the Brahma Loka was invincible, an unshakable fortress of power. But now he understood: the stability he had taken for granted was fragile, and the Asuras were not as easily defeated as he'd assumed.

With this new awareness, his mind shifted to other possibilities.

"Vaikuntha? Or Kailash?" Indra wondered aloud, considering his next course of action. If he were to leave the Brahma Loka behind, one of these places might provide a more secure foundation for their plans.

But whatever came next, one thing was certain—this battle was far from over.

Kailash is a sacred refuge for ascetics, and Lord Shiva, protector of those seeking spiritual enlightenment, made it a truly divine place.

However, as the leader of the Devas, Indra's responsibilities were far from simple. He couldn't simply retreat to the tranquil heights of Kailash; his duties remained. He would have to wait until Airavata's penance was complete, and only then could he enjoy a well-earned respite.

For the first time, Indra found himself missing his elephant.

The Nth day without Airavata…

"How long has it been?" Indra thought, a slight pang of guilt tugging at his heart.

He couldn't help but reflect. "Am I a bad friend? If I let the rain fall every day for five hundred years, I'd take his place for five years, wouldn't I?"

Indra sighed deeply. His thoughts weren't without kindness, but the weight of leadership often dulled such feelings. As much as he longed for peace, his role demanded constant vigilance.

Shaking off his moment of melancholy, Indra refocused. He clasped his hands together and addressed Brahma with renewed determination.

"Lord Brahma," he began, "These three Asuras did not attack Svarga. They came to Brahma Loka for a reason. There must be a deeper conspiracy at work here."

He paused, letting the tension build.

"They may have come specifically to target you," Indra concluded, his voice steady.

Brahma blinked in surprise. "Target me?" His brow furrowed, his mind racing. What could they possibly want with him?

As he pondered the question, Brahma's eyes shifted, and he caught sight of Indra's gaze falling on something. He followed the line of sight and froze, realization dawning on him.

"Vedas?!" he exclaimed, his voice tinged with shock.

The sacred texts—the very foundation of cosmic order. Did asuras dare to scheme about such a thing now?

---

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Chapter Text

"Vedas!" Brahma's voice rang out, his gaze lifting slightly to the left as he fixed his eyes on the sacred texts in his hand. The Vedas pulsed with a radiant glow, a faint aura of wisdom emanating from them. It was as if the very essence of the universe was being gathered and dispensed, its light cascading outward and enveloping the Devas in its divine embrace.

Was Hayagriva truly here to steal the Vedas?

A deep frown settled on Brahma's face, and his expression darkened. Quickly, his thoughts sharpened, and he scanned the entirety of Brahma Loka, assessing the situation. He needed to fortify his loka immediately—no one could be allowed to breach it. If the Vedas were lost, it would spell disaster.

At that moment, Brahma knew that Vishnu, the Protector of the World, would step in to safeguard the sacred texts. And if Vishnu failed, Shiva would certainly intervene. The consequences of losing the Vedas were unthinkable.

Brahma's mind raced, but his gaze remained steady on Indra. The Deva Lord's beard lifted slightly as he offered a serene smile, his voice resonating with a mysterious energy.

"Indra!" Brahma's voice echoed through the entire Brahma Loka. The sound seemed to resonate with the very fabric of the realm, carrying across the vast space and reaching the ears of every Deva, Gandharva, and celestial being present. The vibrations sent a shiver through their beings, infusing them with a burst of energy, their spirits alight with divine power.

Indra's eyes widened, his pulse quickening as he felt the power of Brahma's words wash over him. Was it happening?

Could Brahma be preparing to bestow a blessing upon him?

"You led the Svarga's army to Brahma Loka, and with your war songs, you held firm against the Asuras. Your courage is extraordinary," Brahma continued, his gaze steady and filled with approval. "I bless you."

Indra stood straighter, his body brimming with anticipation. The Devas surrounding him leaned forward, their expressions filled with excitement, hope, and awe. Even the Gandharva army held their breath, their eyes fixed on Brahma—the Creator of all.

What could Brahma's blessing be?

Devi Saraswati turned her head to observe with curiosity, wondering what her husband's divine will would bring.

With a smile that shone as brightly as the sun, Brahma raised his hand, a golden light radiating from his palm.

"I bless you!" Brahma declared, his voice strong and filled with divine power. "Whenever you confront an enemy and your army sings your hymns, you and your entire army will be granted boundless courage. Your enemies will falter, their spirits crushed, their will to fight fading into nothingness."

As Brahma spoke, the golden light from his hand intensified, illuminating the sky like the first rays of dawn. The words "Thata astu! Thata astu! Thata astu!" rang out in unison with the divine power of Brahma's blessing.

Golden streams of light fell from the heavens, bathing each Deva and celestial being present, imbuing them with divine energy. A sense of calm strength flowed through them, their spirits lifted, ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead.

Indra's smile faltered ever so slightly.

What war cry?

This blessing... weak?

It wasn't exactly weak—after all, it had the potential to bolster his forces while weakening his enemies. But was it strong? Not in the way Indra had hoped. Against some of the invincible Asuras, this blessing would have little effect. It was more suited for trivial skirmishes, perhaps to crush weaker foes, but not the powerful adversaries he might face.

"But... it can be used alongside Panchajanya," Indra murmured to himself, his thoughts quickly shifting.

His conch, Panchajanya, possessed the ability to boost morale and sap the will to fight his enemies. If combined with the blessing he had just received, it could turn the tide of battle. The Asura armies, particularly the common ones, would find themselves faltering before his might, even if most of the Devas stayed back. The Gandharva army alone could make quick work of them.

How stingy.

Indra's expression remained unchanged, but inwardly, he grumbled, a little discontented with the modest nature of Brahma's gift.

With a quiet sigh, he cleared his throat twice and clasped his hands in reverence.

"Thank you, Brahma-pita, for your blessing!" Indra exclaimed, his voice full of respect though tinged with the faintest trace of sarcasm. "We shall now offer our song, Mridangam Reverie, in your honor."

A small smile tugged at the corner of Indra's lips. Such a stingy Lord deserves to hear this.

The next moment, a flash of divine light flickered in his hands, and a celestial mridangam materialized in his grip, its polished body gleaming with a golden hue. The Devas, in perfect unison, prepared their instruments, their movements smooth and coordinated.

Dhina... dhina... dhum dhum dhina...

The rhythmic beats of the mridangam filled the air, a deep, resonant tone that seemed to echo through the very fabric of Brahma Loka. A harmonious melody erupted from the Devas' ensemble, each note intertwining in divine symphony.

The vibrations of the mridangam gave life to shimmering patterns of light that danced across the temple. With each strike, lotus flowers bloomed atop the heads of the Devas, their pure white petals drifting gently down, releasing a sweet fragrance that enveloped the realm in serenity.

"Buzz~" The harmonious hum of the song reverberated through the air.

"You are the Creator, the Dev of all things~" the Devas sang, their voices carrying the weight of reverence and devotion. The melody of Mridangam Reverie resonated with an ethereal beauty, its tones filling the heavens themselves.

As the gentle rhythm continued, Brahma gazed at the descending lotus flowers, his expression softening with a sense of deep joy. Slowly, he closed his eyes, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. The intoxicating sound of the mridangam seemed to wash over him, lifting his spirit higher with every beat.

The Devas are so devoted... Brahma thought, feeling a surge of satisfaction course through him.

This is what true faith looks like!

Unlike the Asuras, who only sought his favor in times of desperation, or the Devas, who often praised him out of mere obligation, this—this felt different. The rhythmic cadence of Mridangam Reverie was a perfect tribute, harmonizing with his divine essence.

This is the kind of devotion that truly pleases me, he mused, basking in the music's transcendence.

Meanwhile, Indra's thoughts were less focused on the music.

The Brahma Loka is no longer secure, he mused, the weight of the situation pressing down on him. Where should I train next?

Elsewhere, in the shadows, Hayagriva's sharp eyes glinted with caution as he surveyed Madhu and Kaitambha, standing before him.

"In Brahma Loka, we faced a minor setback. It's all part of my plan; nothing to worry about," Hayagriva declared, his voice steady and calculated.

His eyes narrowed as he turned his attention back to his allies. "Next, we move on to Patala Loka. Only once we become the Kings of Patala will we be able to fully carry out our plans."

He paused, considering his words carefully. "Hiranyaksha and Hiranyakashipu are both formidable. They are powerful, not unlike your pair of brothers, and each of them is a Lord of the Realm in their own right. Their blessings, too, are imbued with the strength of immortality and are undefeatable in battles. Hiranyakashipu has also been generous, though I'm not sure if his repairs are complete."

Hayagriva's gaze grew intense. "They have many followers who will fight for them, so we must proceed with caution. We will strike from the shadows and attack their palace in one go."

His voice dropped to a whisper as he laid out the strategy. "We will move silently. If there's only Hiranyaksha in our way, we'll capture him. But if they're all present..."

Hayagriva's lips curled into a sly grin. "Be careful, my friends. We'll fight in secret, and I'll strike when the time is right."

Madhu and Kaitambha exchanged serious glances. They nodded in agreement, their sledgehammers tight in their hands. With quiet precision, they slipped into the Asura temple, ready to carry out their mission.

Inside the Asura Temple, Prahlaada sat cross-legged on his throne, an image of calm and kindness. His face was serene, his attire immaculate, and his hands clasped in prayer. A gentle smile played on his lips as he praised Lord Vishnu with all his heart.

"Om Namo Bhagavate Vasudevaya!" he intoned with reverence.

Prahlaada's voice echoed with sincerity and devotion, his heart swelling with the pure joy of worship. As the song of praise flowed from him, a radiant smile graced his face—his soul at peace, knowing he was fulfilling his sacred duty.

Under the throne, the Asura generals were far from the intimidating warriors they were known to be. Instead of battle robes, they wore loose, ceremonial garments, akin to those worn by priests. One by one, they swayed weakly, their movements sluggish, their faces blank as they muttered their praises.

"Om namo… to the Lord…," one grumbled, barely audible.

"Om namo… whoever he is…" another mumbled, rolling his eyes, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

"Thumbs up… great… job… Vishnu…" yet another sneered, lazily raising his hand in a half-hearted gesture before letting it drop.

Their eyelids drooped as though weighed down by invisible chains, and their words came out with a lethargic, half-hearted rhythm.

Prahlaada, deep in his meditation, sensed the disturbance. His brow furrowed ever so slightly as he slowly came out of his reverie. The moment he stirred, the Asura generals straightened, snapping to attention.

Uh-huh!

Prahlaada opened his eyes, and the sight before him caused a faint, approving smile to spread across his face.

"Good!" he said with a nod of satisfaction. "Today's prayers are over. You may return tomorrow."

"Yes, yes, yes!" one of the generals muttered, his eyes darting nervously around the room as he stepped back.

"Clear!" another echoed, his tone far too quick, as if he was ready to flee at the first sign of dismissal.

"Good!" the third responded, barely concealing his annoyance but nodding eagerly as he shuffled away.

The generals practically scrambled out of the temple, eager to leave behind the endless routine. Day after day, this forced praise felt more like torture than devotion.

Once outside, the mood shifted. The once stoic faces of the Asura generals darkened with frustration. One of them, General Rambha, tore at his sacrificial robes in anger, flinging the torn fabric to the ground.

"Hateful!" he spat. "That idiot has forced us to pray to Vishnu again, and now we're stuck wearing these ridiculous clothes! This is too much. Are we really Asuras if we're treated like this?"

Another general, clearly exhausted by the daily grind, sighed. "Stop complaining. Prahlaada is the son of Hiranyakashipu, and he's powerful enough to defeat Puloman. He's the Lord of Patala Loka now. Can you even challenge him?"

Rambha's face twisted with fury as he clenched his fists, his eyes blazing with wrath. "I am done! I can't take this humiliation any longer!" he seethed, his voice full of venom. "No more!"

His resolve hardened like steel. "I will do it," he muttered to himself. "I will perform a penance so fierce, it will shake the heavens themselves! I will ask for a son, a son whose power surpasses everything! Stronger than even Shiva's Nandi, more fearsome than the gods themselves! I will carve a path to victory through his strength!"

At his side, Karambha, his loyal brother, spoke, his voice resolute. "I will join you, brother. Together, we will create a force the world has never seen."

Rambha's eyes gleamed with manic determination, and he pounded his chest in a gesture of self-affirmation. "He shall be Mashisha! His power shall eclipse that of the devas, and he will rule over the realms! With the strength of an ox, the ferocity of a lion, and mastery over Maya's illusions, he will be unmatched—none will dare challenge him!"

---

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Chapter Text

"Rambha is truly brave, daring to defy the king's orders like that!" Virochana muttered, shaking his head in disbelief.

"What? Did you see him running toward the human world? He's obviously scared," Kaalkeya snorted. "By the time he finishes his penance and that son of his is born, it will be ages before he can do anything!"

"Just go back, and be sure to show up tomorrow for the prayer session," another sighed, his tone heavy with resignation. This was Nishumbha, his voice thick with weariness.

"Ugh! It's better to undergo hard training than this endless charade! I'd rather cut myself a thousand times!" Dhumra grumbled bitterly.

With a collective sigh of despair, the generals began to shuffle out of the temple, their spirits deflated as they flew back to their respective palaces.

Meanwhile, in the shadows, hidden by the power of Maya, Hayagriva, Madhu, and Kaitambha overheard the conversation.

"Let's charge in now!" Madhu exclaimed, gripping his sledgehammer tightly, ready to move forward.

But Hayagriva stopped him, his hand grabbing Madhu's arm firmly. "Wait."

His sharp ears twitched as his fingers traced intricate circles in the air, his mind racing. His eyes darted, and two streams of white vapor escaped from his nostrils as he pondered the Asura general's words.

"I've never heard of this Prahlada. The people are saying he's the son of Hiranyakashipu…" Hayagriva murmured, his mind working quickly. "Could the current Asura King really be the son of Hiranyakashipu? And where are Hiranyakashipu, Hiranyaksha, and Vajranga now?"

A sudden thought struck him like a bolt of lightning, his eyes widening in realization. "Could it be that this Prahlada, through intense penance, killed or imprisoned Hiranyaksha and Hiranyakashipu? And killed Vajranga as well?"

He couldn't help but gasp at the possibility. Turning to Madhu and Kaitambha, his expression grew serious. "This Prahlada isn't just some ordinary foe."

Madhu and Kaitambha exchanged a brief glance, their confidence unwavering.

"You two will work together to take him down," Hayagriva instructed, his voice filled with certainty. "I'll support you with archery. One shot, and it will be over."

"Got it. No problem," they both replied, their voices full of assurance.

The two were confident in their strength, prepared to face any challenge—even taking on the protector of the world, Vishnu, if necessary.

Without wasting another moment, the three of them silently infiltrated the Asura Temple, shadows blending into the darkness.

Inside the temple, Prahlada sat alone on his throne, his thoughts heavy. He sighed deeply, the weight of his responsibilities pressing on him.

"Narayan!" Prahlada muttered, his voice heavy with uncertainty. "How should I lead this group of Asuras? Perhaps I am not suited for this role... Alas!"

He sighed deeply, feeling a weight on his heart. He had never felt truly at home in the Patala loka. The atmosphere here, with its constant struggles, violence, and chaos, never resonated with him. Even if he tried to change it with his own power, it always felt wrong. It was as if peace didn't belong here.

Compared to this, he longed for the serene meditation forests of the Rishis, where peace and wisdom flowed like the gentle rivers.

But what he truly yearned for, above all else, was to enter Lord Vishnu's Vaikuntha, to be by the Lord's side and bask in His divine presence.

As these thoughts lingered in his mind, Hayagriva stood in the shadows, cloaked in the power of Maya. His form was barely discernible, a mere wisp in the darkness.

Swish!

In an instant, a divine bow materialized in his hands. With swift precision, he notched an arrow and pulled back the bowstring.

Hayagriva was a master of focus now. All doubts, all distractions, evaporated from his mind. His entire being became one with the bow and the arrow, the tension of the string building with every passing moment.

While most Asuras wielded maces, hammers, and scimitars, Hayagriva had always preferred the axe and bow. His strength was immense, but his physical endurance was not as formidable as some of his kin.

One mighty swing of his axe could shake the very fabric of the void, its power enough to split space itself. But the bow—ah, the bow was his true weapon. With one shot, he could strike down any opponent, pouring every ounce of his power into that single, fateful arrow.

The power he summoned now was enough to rival even Hiranyaksha's strength, but unfortunately, his power would be rendered useless by Hiranyaksha's Rishi blessing. That's why he needed the help of Madhu and Kaitambha—his partners in this dangerous mission.

"Prahlada..." Hayagriva muttered under his breath, focusing all his energy on the bowstring, his muscles coiled like a spring.

Meanwhile, Prahlada, unaware of the danger closing in on him, sighed again. He had resigned himself to the idea of retreating to his palace for rest, his mind weary from the burdens of leadership.

But then, something changed.

His senses tingled.

A familiar, comforting presence brushed against his consciousness, a presence that had always been with him since his youth—a presence that had protected him, watched over him, and guided him through countless trials his father had set to break his devotion.

"Narayana?!" Prahlada gasped, his heart racing. His body jerked as he turned, his eyes scanning the temple, but there was nothing there.

The sense of familiarity lingered, but the source was nowhere to be seen. Confusion and uncertainty clouded his mind as he stood motionless, trying to make sense of what had just happened.

Amid Prahlada's surprise, a voice suddenly broke the silence, laced with shock and disbelief.

"You actually found us!"

Madhu's figure materialized from the shadows, his eyes blazing with intensity.

"No need to hide anymore!" Kaitambha followed closely, his presence just as commanding as Madhu's.

Together, the two Asuras fixed their fiery gaze on Prahlada.

"Hand over the throne of the Asura King!" Madhu demanded, his tone sharp and unwavering.

"Yes, hand it over!" Kaitambha echoed his voice, a cold reflection of his partner's resolve.

Prahlada blinked, his initial confusion morphing into surprise and something else—understanding. These two Asuras were disheveled, their faces caked in white dirt, but there was no mistaking the unmistakable aura of the Lord surrounding them.

Could it be...? Did the Lord Vishnu hear his wish to live in Vaikuntha?

"Are you here on orders of the Lord?" Prahlada asked, his voice tinged with both curiosity and a touch of excitement.

Madhu and Kaitambha exchanged a brief, stunned glance.

What?

This Asura knew about Hayagriva? How could he know that the Lord had sent them?

The realization hit them with unsettling clarity. They hesitated for a moment, confusion and doubt flickering across their faces. But that hesitation quickly melted into resolve, and both Asuras stepped forward, their posture growing more assertive.

"So what if I know?" Madhu sneered, his face twisting with a mix of shock and rising anger. The dirt streaked across his face like the storm brewing within him. "In that case—"

Prahlada, however, remained calm, his eyes serene as if untouched by the growing tension. "Then I will give you the throne of the Asura King!" he declared, his voice unwavering and almost peaceful despite the storm of thoughts churning within him.

A warm smile curled his lips, one that held no bitterness, no regret. After all, he was a servant of the Lord. What harm was there in relinquishing his title, his identity as the King of the Asuras, the ruler of the Patalaloka? If Lord Vishnu desired it, Prahlada would gladly step aside.

But as he spoke, a sudden shift in the air caught his attention.

Hidden in the shadows, Hayagriva's expression darkened. The mention of "The King of Asura" was like a jolt to his very soul.

His body involuntarily recoiled, and the concentrated power he had carefully gathered for his attack was suddenly forced back into his own being. The force of the collision inside him was so strong that it caused a wave of internal pain.

"Ugh!"

Hayagriva clenched his teeth, stifling a groan as blood dripped from the corner of his mouth. The injury was painful, but he couldn't afford to focus on it.

The blessing he carried would heal the wound soon enough. But at this moment, he had no time for that. His mind was focused entirely on the looming confrontation.

"This guy is either innocent or very cunning!" Hayagriva's eyes widened in disbelief as he watched Prahlada, his grip tightening on the pillar beside him. If it weren't for the risk of making a scene, he might have cheered in awe.

In the grand hall, Prahlada's expression remained calm, his gaze steady and serene. He stood there, a faint smile tugging at his lips, as he slowly lifted his arms, opening them wide. With that simple motion, the overwhelming power of the earth began to peel away from him, like an ancient force being stripped of its hold.

The earth itself groaned beneath him. It was as if the earth dragon had awakened, its roar shaking the very ground, causing the hall to tremble in response.

Madhu and Kaitambha stared in stunned silence. This was beyond their expectations—this guy had just stripped away the Patala loka's power from himself!

"Well, alright then," Prahlada said, his voice light and nonchalant. "I'm off to find my mother and leave Patala behind. You can have the throne."

He paused, his smile widening slightly. "But be careful. With the Patala's throne now unclaimed, there will be Asuras flocking to fight for the throne of the Asura King."

With that, he turned and walked away, his movements graceful and unburdened. His body was relaxed, and his steps were light as he exited the temple, disappearing from the sight of Hayagriva, Madhu, and Kaitambha.

Hayagriva stood there, his mind reeling.

Is this really the son of Hiranyakashipu?

He couldn't comprehend it. Prahlada's calm and self-assured demeanor was too unsettling, too different from what he had expected.

Madhu and Kaitambha, still in shock, exchanged a glance before bursting into laughter.

"Hahaha, brother! We're going to be the Asura Kings now!" Kaitambha's grin was wide, his fists clenched in excitement.

"That's right! I'll take the throne first, and then you can follow!" Madhu grinned back, slapping his brother on the back.

Kaitambha looked slightly disappointed, lowering his head. "Can't you just let me be first?"

Madhu's smile faded slightly, his face tightening in response, just as Hayagriva emerged from the shadows.

"Are you two seriously fighting over such a trivial title?" Hayagriva's voice was sharp, and his words were laced with scorn. "Do you not understand the bigger picture here?"

He stepped forward, his gaze intense and his tone urgent. "The throne of the Asura King is nothing more than a symbol of temporary power. It is fleeting, easily claimed, and easily lost. But the true role, the one worthy of your strength, lies in something far greater."

Madhu and Kaitambha exchanged uncertain glances, their egos bruised by the dismissal of the title they had fought for.

"Do you two have the vision to see the path ahead?" Hayagriva continued, his voice dripping with conviction. "You should aim higher, for the true seat of power—the position of Preserver of the World! That is a title worthy of your strength, a position that will give you dominion over not just the Asuras but all of creation. With that power, Vishnu himself will tremble before you."

He paused, letting the weight of his words settle in. "Forget about the trivial throne. We have the plan and the potential to be the Trimurti that shapes, sustains, and destroys the cosmos. Are you truly willing to settle for less?"

The silence that followed was heavy with temptation. Madhu and Kaitambha's expressions shifted, their ambitions stirring with the possibility of something far greater than they had imagined.

The mention of Vishnu made both Madhu and Kaitambha's expressions shift instantly. There was a flicker of doubt, but their faces remained determined.

"Tsk!" Hayagriva clicked his tongue in exasperation. "You really think I'd lie to you? I was the one who brought you two into the Patalaloka in the first place!"

His eyes narrowed as he locked gazes with them, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

---

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"Have I ever lied to you?" Hayagriva's voice carried an edge of authority, his unblinking eyes locking onto Madhu and Kaitambha.

Madhu scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, while Kaitambha shuffled uncomfortably, avoiding Hayagriva's penetrating gaze.

"You? Lie?" Madhu started, his voice trailing off into an awkward chuckle. "No, no. But—"

"But what?" Hayagriva cut him off sharply, his nostrils flaring. A snort escaped, sending twin streams of white vapor slicing the air.

"If I hadn't hauled you both out of the Milk Sea and dragged you to Patalaloka, you'd still be circling the shores, claiming north was south and east was wherever your nose pointed!"

Kaitambha's cheeks flushed. "That was one time!"

"One time?!" Hayagriva's exasperation deepened, his fiery glare making the air around them feel heavier. "I had to rescue you from the same cave three times in a single night because you couldn't find the exit!"

"I never lie," he thundered, his words as unyielding as the mountains. The brothers exchanged sheepish glances, but neither dared to argue.

Madhu and Kaitambha, visibly moved by his words, pursed their lips and nodded firmly. They understood the gravity of Hayagriva's actions.

"I will make an ultimate plan to take revenge on Vishnu. For that, we have to take the position of Asura King for the good of our cause!" Hayagriva continued, his voice filled with conviction. Only by doing this can we complete our grand plan."

"For our grand plan!" Madhu and Kaitambha repeated in unison, their eyes burning with a renewed sense of purpose.

Hayagriva's demeanor softened as he placed his hands on their shoulders, a reassuring smile on his face. He patted them gently, offering both comfort and encouragement.

At the sound of his words, the brothers felt a surge of excitement despite not fully knowing the details of the plan. Their hearts beat with fiery anticipation, and a shared passion rose within them.

"For our grand plan!" they shouted together, their voices filled with determination.

The two brothers hefted their maces onto their shoulders, their steps full of confidence and resolve. They marched out of the palace, ready to defend it and carry out whatever tasks lay ahead.

"Finally, they're gone... hehehe~" Hayagriva's eyes narrowed as he watched them disappear into the distance. A sly smile spread across his face, and he couldn't help but let out a low chuckle.

His body shook with laughter, the sound echoing through the empty hall. The dark, sacred temple—hidden at the heart of the earth—stood still as if listening to the vibrations of his mirth. It was here, in the center of the earth, where Mandala Mountain connected to the core, that one could merge their essence with the land itself.

The temple was a nexus of power, and Hayagriva felt the flow of energy surge through him.

"The power of the Asura King... the power of the Patalaloka..." Hayagriva murmured to himself, his voice a whisper of awe and power.

His will spread outward like ripples in a pond, his essence touching the very soul of the earth.

Boom!

The ground rumbled beneath him, and the earth's energy flowed into his body, binding him with an ancient strength. The earth, now his ally, responded to his will, and with it, Hayagriva's power began to grow.

Ah~

Hayagriva tilted his head back, unable to suppress a deep, satisfactory moan as the power surged through him. His mane rippled with the force, and he reveled in the sensation of strength flooding his body.

With this power...

The final gap in his abilities had been filled.

As the energy of the earth continuously poured into him, his power grew beyond anything he could have imagined. Now, not only could he launch more powerful attacks, but he could fire them relentlessly. Ten arrows, one hundred, or even a thousand—nothing was beyond his reach.

This was no mere upgrade; his ultimate attack had become nothing more than a basic skill, a simple part of his arsenal.

"I could reign for a thousand years!" The horse-headed Danava declared with fierce determination, clenching his fists tightly.

BOOM!

Boom!

A series of deafening explosions rattled the ground. Thunder cracked through the air as the earth shook beneath his feet. Deep fissures spread across the landscape, rippling outward like the strands of a spider's web. The sound of battle was unmistakable—fierce, brutal, and unrelenting.

Hayagriva stretched out his right hand, feeling the air vibrate with power.

Uh-huh!

In an instant, a black divine bow materialized in his grasp. Gripping it with practiced ease, he strode out of the Asura Temple and approached the entrance, his presence commanding the space around him.

Above, in the sky, the Asura generals hovered like ominous specters. Ploman, Viprachitti, and Nishumbha had gathered, surrounding Madhu and Kaitambha in a relentless siege.

The two brothers, undeterred, roared in defiance. They clapped their palms together, and in an instant, their bodies spun with terrifying speed.

Gale-force winds howled as their rotations sent shockwaves through the air. A series of black hurricanes tore through the battlefield, a swirling vortex of destruction that pulled in numerous Asuras, shredding them to pieces as the winds carried them away.

Puloman's expression darkened with alarm. His body flickered, and he called upon his Maya to create thousands of phantom copies of himself, retreating rapidly to avoid being consumed by the storm.

Boom!

With a single, decisive motion, Hayagriva loosed a black arrow from his bow. It cut through the void with precision, a streak of deadly energy that sliced the air. The arrow found its target and, in an instant, appeared directly in front of Puloman's true form, its destructive force cutting through the illusions and locking onto him.

The battle was far from over, but Hayagriva was ready. His power had reached its peak, and now, nothing could stand in his way.

Puloman's eyes widened in shock as he whirled around, desperately attempting to evade the deadly arrow.

But it was too late.

The black arrow, swift as a streak of light, cut through the air and struck with pinpoint accuracy. A deafening bang echoed as it tore through Puloman's body.

Boom!!!

In an instant, Puloman's lower body exploded, disintegrating into a gory cloud of flesh and bone.

The Asura generals froze, their collective breath caught in their throats.

Viprachitti and Nishmubha's faces paled in disbelief, their eyes widening with alarm. The rest of the generals looked on in sheer horror, their gazes darting toward the temple, unable to comprehend what they had just witnessed.

One arrow... had obliterated most of Puloman's body.

Impossible...

The world seemed to hold its breath as Hayagriva's footsteps echoed steadily, each step reverberating with power. He approached the broken form of Puloman, who was still gasping for air, struggling to stay alive.

Hayagriva loomed over him, his expression one of casual amusement. He tilted his head down and sneered, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Yo~"

"Isn't this Puloman, the king of Danvas? Alas, you aren't the strongest in the Danavas anymore. I was just planning to shoot anyone at random to show off my new power, but I didn't expect it to be you." His grin widened as he continued, "And look at you... still alive. You're really lucky, aren't you?"

He leaned in closer, his voice lowering to a mocking tone. "But I'm feeling generous today. I'll spare your life. Hahahaha!"

Laughing heartily, Hayagriva turned on his heel, stepping over Puloman's broken form without a second glance. He strode forward with confidence, his divine bow still gripped tightly in his hand.

Madhu and Kaitambha landed with precision on either side of him, their imposing figures flanking the new King Asura. Hayagriva glanced to his left and right, only to find himself growing irritable.

The two brothers stood there, completely unaware of their lack of presence. How could they not see it? Hayagriva thought bitterly. They're standing next to me as if they're on equal footing. Do they not understand their place?

He suppressed his frustration with a sharp snort.

He was King of Patalapuri now, and these two were merely his subordinates—nothing more.

Still, there was a use for them, for now.

Hayagriva turned his gaze back to the Asura generals before him. Their faces were a mix of confusion, surprise, and apprehension. Some of them looked downright shocked, while others appeared doubtful, as if struggling to accept what had just happened.

Not long ago, the position of Asura King had been held by Prahlada.

And now? In the blink of an eye, it had all changed.

Why? How?

Hayagriva's presence alone was enough to silence any questions. The throne of the Asura King was now his, and no one would dare challenge him.

Even if Prahlada had been caught off guard, there should have been some sort of resistance—some sign of a struggle—but there was nothing like that now. The sudden power shift was unsettling, as if the throne of Asura had been claimed without much resistance.

And the new King... was a horse-headed figure, someone who hadn't been seen in ages. The change was so abrupt, so strange.

The Asura generals were confused, their minds racing to process the scene before them.

"I, Hayagriva, will be the King of Patala from now on!" His voice rang out, commanding and unyielding.

He scanned the crowd, his gaze sharp and full of authority. "Do any of you have objections?"

The generals stood frozen, their silence a clear indication of their hesitation.

A smirk curled at the corners of Hayagriva's mouth, his eyes glinting with superiority. "Hmph! Now that you see your new King, why don't you kneel?"

With a swift movement, he raised his divine bow, his presence suffocating the room. His voice boomed louder, echoing through the temple.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

The Asura generals, as if caught in some invisible force, scrambled to obey. The once pristine, orange sacrificial robes were torn from their bodies as they hastily tore them off in submission. The sound of fabric ripping filled the air, and bits of cloth fluttered in every direction.

In moments, many of the Asura generals were left half-naked, kneeling on the ground, heads bowed in reverence.

"All Hail Hayagriva!" they chanted in unison, their voices trembling with both fear and respect.

"All honor to Hayagriva, the Conqueror!"

...

Voices echoed in rapid succession, filling the air with a sense of awe and tension. Hayagriva's mane whipped in the wind, his gaze sweeping over the scene before him.

At this moment, in addition to Madhu and Kaitambha standing proudly at his sides, there was Puloman, barely clinging to life, sprawled on the ground. The remaining Asura generals were all kneeling, their heads bowed in complete submission.

A surge of power rushed through him, a feeling so overwhelming that it was intoxicating.

This... this is what it means to be Asura King.

Cool.

"Hahahaha!" Hayagriva threw his head back and laughed, a deep, booming sound that reverberated through the temple.

The taste of power was sweet, sweeter than anything he had ever experienced. Now, he understood why so many sought the throne.

The sight of the strongest in Patala, on their knees, humbled before him, filled him with a perverse satisfaction. The way they bowed, their arrogance crushed and replaced with reverence... they were like obedient mares. It was a sight that made his heart swell with pride.

A true feeling of achieving something in his life. This was the feeling he had been chasing, and now that he had it, it was even better than he had imagined.

But there were still matters to address.

His laughter faded, and he wiped the smile from his face. He shook his head slightly before raising his voice once more, firm and commanding.

"Next, all of you," Hayagriva declared, his voice a thunderous command that brooked no defiance. "Come forward and prove your loyalty!"

The Asura generals froze in place, the weight of his words sending a ripple of unease through their ranks. They exchanged wary glances, unsure of the ritual or its implications.

But then, one figure rose.

Nishumbha, the once-proud warlord of Patalaloka, stepped forward. His movements were deliberate, each stride cutting through the tension like a blade. The dark cloak draped over his massive frame billowed out, trailing behind him like a river of shadows.

Without hesitation, Nishumbha approached Hayagriva. When he was within reach, the great warrior dropped to his knees, the sound of his fall resounding like a thunderclap in the hushed temple. He bowed his head low, his long hair spilling across the cold stone floor, and with both hands, he lifted Hayagriva's foot above his head.

The gesture was unmistakable—a complete surrender, an acknowledgment of Hayagriva's supremacy.

"Praise to King Asura!" Nishumbha proclaimed, his deep voice resonating with conviction. "Praise to Hayagriva, the Supreme Sovereign!"

The other generals, shaken but inspired by Nishumbha's submission, scrambled to follow. One by one, they approached, each kneeling and lifting Hayagriva's foot to their heads in a ceremonial act of loyalty. Their collective chants began to fill the hall, growing louder and more fervent:

"Praise to Hayagriva!"

"Praise to the King of Patalaloka!"

The temple pulsed with their voices, the echoes bouncing off the walls as if the very realm acknowledged its new ruler. Hayagriva stood above them all, his smirk widening as he surveyed the scene of total submission. His triumph was complete.

A few days later...

Hayagriva sat upon his grand throne in the depths of Patalaloka, the flickering torches casting shadows across the gilded walls of his palace. In his hand was a scroll, its worn parchment filled with the chronicles of Hiranyaksha and Hiranyakashipu.

His piercing gaze traced each word with increasing incredulity. As he read further, his lips curled into a smirk that teetered between amusement and contempt.

"So... Hiranyaksha," he began, his voice laced with mockery, "the mighty warrior who thought he could outmatch the cosmos itself... fell to Vishnu in the guise of a boar? A boar?" He let out a dry laugh, the sound echoing through the hall.

"And Hiranyakashipu..." He paused, shaking his head in disbelief. "The self-proclaimed immortal. The one who could not be killed by man, beast, weapon, or even time itself... torn apart by Vishnu's claws? What a sight that must have been."

Hayagriva leaned back, his fingers drumming rhythmically on the armrest of his throne as he allowed the words to sink in. His smirk deepened, his voice dripping with disdain.

"Two brothers, hailed as pillars of the Asura race, reduced to stories of failure and folly. One was slain by a beast, the other by a half-man, half-lion avatar."

He rose from his throne, his massive form towering over the hall. The scroll dangled in his hand like a trinket, a mockery of the mighty history it was meant to preserve. He strode toward the balcony, his steps deliberate, each footfall resounding with authority.

"And then there's Indra," he sneered, spitting the name like venom. "The so-called king of the Svarga, hiding behind Vishnu's avatars, always letting someone else fight his battles."

He tossed the scroll onto the marble floor, the brittle parchment scattering into fragments. His eyes burned with a fiery intensity as he stared out at the sprawling expanse of Patalaloka, his kingdom now his to rule.

"I suppose I should thank you, Vishnu," he said, his voice heavy with mockery. "You've cleared the way for me, eliminating the fools who thought they could challenge the Devas without foresight or strength." He chuckled, a sound devoid of mirth. "But don't think I'll fall for your little tricks so easily."

Hayagriva raised his arms, his presence filling the chamber with an oppressive aura. "You may have slain them, Vishnu, but I am not an idiot like them. I am Hayagriva! I will not be outwitted by your guises or your cowardly ally, Indra. The Asura race will not cower before the Svarga any longer."

His booming voice reverberated across the temple, shaking its very foundation. The torches flared violently, their flames dancing wildly as if in response to his fury.

"This time," he declared, his tone sharp and unyielding, "it will be the Devas who kneel. And you, Vishnu, will know the wrath of me, Asura King, Hayagriva, who learns from his mistakes."

Chapter Text

"Hiranyaksha and Hiranyakashipu both fell in the schemes of Indra and avatars of Vishnu!"

The words escaped Hayagriva's lips, barely audible, but full of reverence. His gaze, solemn and calculating, bore into the depths of his thoughts.

"Worthy to be the Lord of Svarga. Worthy to be the king of the Devas. King among kings..."

With a murmur, Hayagriva straightened, his posture unwavering as he rose from the throne. The air thickened with each deliberate step he took. His aura flared like an unstoppable storm, every movement punctuated by invisible thunder that cracked the stillness of the chamber. It reverberated with power, and the ground seemed to tremble beneath his feet.

His mane swayed as if caught in the winds of destiny, amplifying his presence.

"This Indra... stronger, wiser than I remember..." he muttered to himself, his thoughts turning to the unfolding plans.

His gaze shifted toward the horizon beyond the temple. The vast, dim land stretched out before him, a silent witness to the ongoing battle of forces.

"To claim the Vedas, we must first expel the Devas from the Brahmaloka and Svarga..." Hayagriva's eyes narrowed, a dark glint flashing across them. A sudden, chilling thought took root, its arrival like a lightning strike in the depths of his mind.

Boom!

The idea exploded in his consciousness, sharp and clear.

Without hesitation, he raised his hand, his fingers tracing an invisible arc through the air. Divine light cascaded around him, its radiance pulsing in the silence.

Uh-huh!

The light gathered, shaping into a stone platform that materialized before him. It was simple, but its presence was undeniable—a chessboard-like creation, etched with meticulous, orderly markings. The design was a perfect cross, four lanes and three columns, eight squares in each row, the pattern unyielding.

Hayagriva lowered his gaze to the stone, his right hand extended as divine energy coiled around it. Slowly, deliberately, he opened his palm, and from the light, a rectangular die appeared, etched with intricate dots on all six sides.

Bar la la!

He threw the die onto the board, watching as it clattered across the surface, finally settling on a three.

A dark smile curved across his lips.

"Hum hum..." he chuckled softly. "Call Mayasura!"

Turning back toward his throne, Hayagriva's confidence grew. He already knew the path ahead—his plan was set into motion.

Not long after, a figure appeared.

A gaunt, wiry Asura entered the chamber. His face was drawn, eyes heavy with exhaustion, like those of a creature barely awake. Dark rings circled his eyes, and a harsh, black-and-white crown rested atop his head, resembling a spider's grotesque web of teeth and claws. His slender form barely seemed to fill the doorway as he entered, and he carried a long, black double-horned staff in his hand.

Mayāsura. Master architect of the Asuras—peer and rival to Viśvakarmā, the divine artisan of the Devas. Where Viśvakarmā built in harmony with Ṛta, the natural order, Mayāsura wrought wonders through mystic craft and sheer will. His creations did not echo Dharma—they asserted dominion.

This Danava was born from Rishi Kashyapa and his wife Danu., a being imbued with immense talent in Maya. It was this extraordinary gift that earned him the name Mayasura, for his mastery over Maya—the art of illusion—was unparalleled. But his talents did not stop there. Mayasura was also a renowned blacksmith, his craft so skilled that every enchanted weapon wielded by the Asura clan had been forged by his hand.

With slow, deliberate steps, Mayasura approached the throne where Hayagriva sat, his presence almost as imposing as the mighty deity himself. His strides were long, each one purposeful, filled with the quiet confidence of a master craftsman.

Hayagriva, seated upon his throne, seemed to smile—but it was a smile that barely touched his eyes. The coldness in his gaze was unmistakable, a stark contrast to the warm, almost regal demeanor he projected. He stared at Mayasura with an intensity that could freeze the very air around them.

"I know you are a divine craftsman, Mayasura," Hayagriva said, his voice smooth yet commanding. "Now, I have a task for you. I need you to create a dice—a dice that will ensure my victory, no matter the game. It must be flawless, a tool of absolute trickery. And it must remain undetected by the Devas."

Mayasura stood silent for a moment, his sharp gaze flicking to the cross-shaped game board before him. Without a word, he reached out, his fingers closing around the rectangular dice, studying its form as if weighing its very essence.

"If you want this dice to always roll in your favor, without fail, and without the Devas ever noticing, then you will need to craft it from the bones of the thrower," Mayasura replied, his voice calm yet tinged with a hint of pride. His eyes gleamed with a knowledge only he possessed, a knowledge that only someone of his craft could understand.

"The bones of the thrower contain the essence of his destiny—his will, his power, his very dream. The dice will be bound to him in ways the devas cannot see or interfere with."

Hayagriva's eyes glinted as his lips curled into a subtle, knowing smile. His fiery mane swayed gently as if responding to his thoughts. But it wasn't a mere smile of amusement—it was the smile of a king who had already anticipated the challenge and had decided upon the solution.

"Very well, Mayasura," Hayagriva said, his tone resonating with a divine power that made the air itself quiver. "The bones of the thrower... very well."

Mayasura raised an eyebrow, intrigued by Hayagriva's words. He watched, perplexed, as Hayagriva's gaze grew distant, his expression unreadable. The atmosphere in the room grew heavier as if the weight of his decision was beginning to settle in.

"Give me your bones," Mayasura continued, his voice slightly hushed. "I shall make the dice from your very being, Hayagriva."

Hayagriva's eyes met Mayasura's. A flicker of surprise passed over the divine craftsman's face, quickly masked by his stoic demeanor. Hayagriva's request was not just bold—it was unprecedented. The very idea of sacrificing one's bones for the creation of a powerful tool was not only unheard of, but it also bore tremendous risk.

"Then be it," Hayagriva replied, his voice a thunderous affirmation. "If my bones are to be used, then it shall be so. Let the dice be forged from my essence, for the victory it shall bring is worth the cost."

Mayasura looked at him carefully, sensing the gravitas of the moment. He could see the resolve in Hayagriva's eyes, the power that surged from him like a tide ready to crash upon the shore. There was no hesitation in his words, no second thoughts. Hayagriva had made his choice.

"Very well," Mayasura said, his voice deepening with respect. "I will craft it, then. A tool of absolute trickery that even devas won't be able to detect it."

Without another word, Hayagriva closed his eyes and began to channel his divine energy, focusing his will on the task at hand. He stood tall as if preparing to offer himself for a sacrifice that would forever alter the course of his life.

"I shall give what is needed," Hayagriva said, his voice steady yet imbued with an ancient power that resonated through the very air.

His eyes met Mayasura's with an unspoken understanding, and the ground beneath them seemed to tremble as if the earth itself acknowledged the magnitude of the sacrifice about to unfold.

With a slow, deliberate motion, Hayagriva's fingers curled around his rib, and with a soft, almost imperceptible snap, the bone came free from his side. The crack echoed through the stillness, sending shivers through the space between them.

Mayasura stepped forward, his eyes focused intently on Hayagriva's offering. He reached out with both hands, reverently touching the bone.

The words echoed in the air like a sacred chant, resonating with the ancient power that both men understood. Mayasura's gaze shifted, the pride in his eyes burning brighter as he acknowledged the challenge before him. The task was set. And with it, a new tool would be forged—one that would defy the devas themselves.

…

In Svarga, outside the grand temple, the atmosphere was filled with anticipation and pride. The Gandharva warriors stood in perfect formation on both sides of the path, their sacred spears tapping rhythmically against the ground, creating a deep, resonant beat. The air was alive with energy as they performed the ceremonial welcome.

Bang! Bang! Thump, thump, thump!

The sound of victory conches echoed through the sky like the crashing waves of the ocean, while the beat of war drums thundered relentlessly, adding to the dramatic reverberations.

The Devas, radiant and confident, strutted through the procession with beaming smiles. Cloaks fluttering behind them and magic weapons in hand, they walked with a sense of purpose and pride, their every step accentuated by the cheers of the Gandharva warriors lining the path.

Suddenly, a gust of air followed the graceful movement of the beautiful Devi, who danced elegantly past the Devas. As she moved, delicate red pollen fell like marigold petals in the sunlight, filling the air with a sweet fragrance that heightened the sense of triumph.

The Devas, basking in the jubilant atmosphere, entered the temple, their faces lit up with satisfaction. The Gandharvas continued their lively song, their voices intertwining with the joyful dances of the Devis, who showered the Devas with golden victory rings. Laughter and music echoed throughout Svarga, a city alive with joy and celebration.

"We've triumphed over the Asuras in Brahma Loka!" Surya said, his lips curling into a proud smile as he basked in the light of his victory. "This is the Devas' victory!"

The air was thick with pride, but there was an undertone of disappointment.

"The glory of the Devas shines across the Triloka," Vayu added, his eyes narrowing slightly. "But it's a pity the Indra couldn't join us."

Agni, the Dev of fire, let out a deep sigh. "This glory, this victory, should be enjoyed by our king. But instead, he remains preoccupied with worries that Asura will attack Svarga again." His voice held a hint of frustration, tinged with concern.

"It's the Asuras' fault!" another voice echoed bitterly from among the crowd, the anger still fresh from the battle.

As the Devas continued down the vibrant path, the festive mood suddenly dimmed, as though the very air had thickened with unease. The sounds of celebration slowed, faltering for a moment. The joyous energy that had once filled the air now seemed more distant, as the Devas could not ignore the absence of the King of Svarga.

"Where is he?" Soma whispered.

For a brief moment, the triumphant noise was replaced by a heavy silence, a quiet reflection on the void left by the King's absence.

…

At that very moment, deep within the Palace of the King of Svarga, a quiet murmur escaped Indra's lips.

"Hayagriva is quite powerful... Madhu and Kaitambha are even more formidable."

"But I've figured out a way." His voice was calm, yet there was a flicker of determination in his eyes.