O King, in those days, the celestial assembly hall Sudharmā and the wish-fulfilling Pārijāta tree were sent by Indra to earth, to that very place where even mortals, upon residing, transcended the limitations of mortality. Varuṇa, lord of the waters, bestowed upon them swift horses, dark in color but shining white, as quick as the mind itself. The lord of treasures, Kuvera, gave eight great treasuries, and the guardians of the worlds offered all their own opulences. Whatever sovereignty, glory, or powers had been granted to them by the Blessed Lord for their own fulfillment, all these, in turn, were returned to Hari—Kṛṣṇa—when He descended to earth. It was there, by the power of His yoga, that Hari gathered all the people. After taking counsel with Rāma, the protector of the people, Kṛṣṇa left the city gate, unarmed and garlanded with lotuses. At this moment, Śukadeva continued: As Kṛṣṇa emerged, He shone like the rising moon, captivating all who beheld Him. His complexion was dark as a rain cloud, His garments bright yellow silk. Upon His chest gleamed the Śrīvatsa mark, and at His throat sparkled the Kaustubha gem. He was tall, broad-shouldered, and radiant, with four arms and eyes like fresh red lotuses. His cheeks were rounded, His smile pure, His face lotus-like, and His ears adorned with brilliant makara-shaped earrings. This was indeed Vāsudeva Himself, the Supreme Lord—marked by the Śrīvatsa, four-armed, lotus-eyed, adorned with a garland from the forest, supremely beautiful. By the signs Nārada had described, none but He could be so. And so the Yavana king, seeing Kṛṣṇa, resolved: “Unarmed, walking on foot—so shall I fight him unarmed!” With this determination, the Yavana, intent on seizing Kṛṣṇa, pursued Him as He fled, though Kṛṣṇa is unattainable even to great yogis. Kṛṣṇa appeared always just ahead, leading the Yavana step by step, as if the man could catch his own shadow. Thus, Hari drew him far away into a mountain cave. As the Yavana chased, he taunted, “Flight does not befit one born in the Yadu line, such as you!” Yet, despite his insults, he could not catch Kṛṣṇa. At last, the Blessed Lord entered the mountain cave, and the Yavana followed. Inside, he saw another man lying down, seemingly in deep sleep. The foolish Yavana, thinking, “Surely this one has been brought here and lies like a saint,” struck the sleeping figure—Achyuta—with his foot. That man, who had slept for ages, slowly awoke and opened his eyes. Glancing around, he saw the Yavana standing nearby. O descendant of Bharata, in that instant, from the angry gaze of the awakened man, the Yavana was burned to ashes by the fire arising from his own body. King Parīkṣit then asked, “O brāhmaṇa, who was that man? Of what lineage and power? Why did he dwell and sleep in that cave? What was the brilliance of the destroyer of the Yavana?” Śuka replied: “He was born in the Ikṣvāku dynasty, the great son of Māndhātṛ, renowned as Mucukunda, devoted to the brāhmaṇas and steadfast in truth. At the gods’ request—including Indra—he had protected them from the asuras for a long time. When, at last, they found their protector Mucukunda asleep in the cave, the gods addressed him: ‘O king, please desist from these hardships of protecting us. You have abandoned the world of men and a kingdom free from enemies, and while you guarded us, you forsook all worldly desires. Your sons, wives, relatives, ministers, counselors, and subjects of your generation are no longer alive. Time, the almighty and imperishable Lord, is stronger than the strong; playing, He brings all beings to their end, just as a herdsman does with cattle. Choose a boon, good fortune to you, except for liberation—for today that is not ours to give. There is but one Lord who grants that: the imperishable Bhagavān Viṣṇu.’ Thus addressed, Mucukunda, bowing to the gods, entered the cave and lay down, overtaken by divine sleep. When the Yavana had been reduced to ashes, the Blessed Lord—best among the Sātvatas—revealed Himself to the wise Mucukunda. Mucukunda beheld Him: dark as a rain cloud, clad in yellow silk, with the Śrīvatsa mark on His chest, shining with the Kaustubha gem, four radiant arms, adorned with the Vaijayantī garland, a beautiful, gracious face, and sparkling makara earrings. His eyes smiled affectionately, He appeared ever youthful, majestic as a lion, and possessed noble prowess. Overwhelmed by this extraordinary radiance, the wise king, cautious and in awe, gently questioned Him, as one might address an unconquerable power: “Who are you, O illustrious one, who have come into this forest, into the mountain cave, wandering with lotus-like feet among the thorny undergrowth? What is the brilliance of the radiant ones—be it the Lord, fire, sun, moon, Indra, guardian of the worlds, or any other—compared to yours? Surely you are foremost among the gods of gods, for you dispel the cave’s darkness as a lamp dispels night. O best of men, if it pleases you, please tell us—eager to serve you—about your birth, deeds, and lineage. As for us, O tiger among men, we are of the Ikṣvāku clan, kṣatriya kin; I am called Mucukunda, son of Yuvanāśva, O Lord. Exhausted from long wakefulness, dulled by sleep, I lay here alone until someone awakened me just now. He, too, was reduced to ashes by his own wickedness, and immediately after, you—glorious and renowned for subduing enemies—appeared. Your radiance is so great we cannot gaze upon you; O illustrious one, you are worthy of honor among all beings.” Thus addressed, the Lord, creator of all beings, replied with a gentle smile, His voice deep as thunderclouds: “My births, deeds, and names are countless, O friend; even I cannot enumerate them, for they are infinite.