As the gods offered their praises, Devakī bore within her womb the lotus-eyed Lord, the very cause of the world’s deliverance. At dawn, for the awakening of the cosmic lotus, the great-souled Acyuta appeared to Devakī, heralding the birth of divinity. Yet it was at midnight, when Janārdana—the support of all creation—was being born, that the clouds rumbled softly and the gods showered flowers from the heavens in celebration. Vasudeva, upon seeing the newborn Lord, beheld him with four arms, his form radiant like the petals of a blooming blue lotus, the mark of Śrīvatsa shining on his chest. Overwhelmed with joy at his birth, Vasudeva praised him with heartfelt words. But mindful of the danger posed by Kaṃsa, Vasudeva, wise and cautious, made his request: “O Lord of gods, wielder of conch, discus, and mace, withdraw this divine form by your grace. Today, Kaṃsa will torment me, knowing you have descended in this temple of mine.” He continued, “You, of infinite forms, who embody the universe and uphold the worlds even in the womb—may you, O Lord, reveal the form of a child by your own power and be gracious. Withdraw this four-armed form, O all-pervading one, so that Kaṃsa, the destroyer of the Daityas, will not know of your descent.” The Lord replied, “That which you previously praised me for, desiring a son, O goddess, has today borne fruit; I have been born from your womb.” Having spoken thus, the Blessed Lord became silent. In the stillness of night, Vasudeva took the child and ventured outside. By the grace of Yogamāyā, the guards were overcome by sleep, and the gatekeepers of Mathurā too, as Ānakadundubhi departed. Heavy rain poured from the clouds, but Śeṣa shielded Vasudeva with his many hoods as he went forth. Carrying Viṣṇu, Vasudeva crossed the Yamunā, whose waters ran deep and turbulent, swirling with countless currents, yet miraculously only reached up to his knees. On the riverbank, Vasudeva saw Nanda and the elder cowherds, who had come to pay tribute to Kaṃsa. At that moment, Yaśodā was also overcome by the sleep of Yogamāyā, and as the people remained deluded, she gave birth to a girl. Vasudeva, resplendent and swift, placed the boy on Yaśodā’s bed and took the girl. When Yaśodā awoke, she saw her newborn son, dark as a blue lotus petal, and was filled with immense joy. Vasudeva then brought the girl to his own house and placed her on Devakī’s bed, resuming his former position. Hearing the cry of the child, the guards immediately awoke and informed Kaṃsa of Devakī’s delivery. Kaṃsa rushed in, seized the girl, even as Devakī, adorned with jewels, pleaded desperately, “Let go, let go!” Ignoring her pleas, Kaṃsa hurled the child upon a stone. But as she was thrown, she remained suspended in the air, assuming a magnificent form with eight mighty arms, bearing weapons. Laughing loudly in fury, she spoke to Kaṃsa: “Why do you attack me, Kaṃsa? The one who will kill you has already been born. He, the very essence of the gods and their former destroyer, is now your doom. Consider this well and act swiftly for your own good.” Having spoken, the goddess, adorned with divine garlands, fragrances, and ornaments, ascended into the sky as the king of the Bhojas looked on, praised by the Siddhas. Deeply disturbed, Kaṃsa summoned all the great Asuras, led by Pralamba and Keśi, and addressed them: “O Pralamba, mighty-armed one, Keśin, Dhenuka, Pūtanā, Ariṣṭa, and others, hear me. The gods have tried to kill me, but I count as nothing those heroes who have suffered at my hands. The words of the maiden are astonishing, O chiefs of the Daityas; they make me laugh at their efforts, even though they strive with all their might. Yet, O lords of the Daityas, I must make even greater efforts to harm those wicked ones. Death has arisen for me—the lord of past, future, and present—so spoke the maiden born from Devakī’s womb. Therefore, utmost effort must be made concerning children on earth; wherever a child displays extraordinary strength, he must be killed with all care.” Having thus commanded the Asuras, Kaṃsa returned to his house and spoke without opposition to Vasudeva and Devakī: “The embryos of you two have been slain by me in vain; now, some other child has arisen for my destruction. Enough of grief—whatever is destined will happen; which child of yours is not slain at the destined end of life?” Thus consoling and releasing them, Kaṃsa satisfied them and entered his inner chambers once more. Freed, Vasudeva went to Nanda’s cart and found Nanda rejoicing, saying, “A son is born to me!” Vasudeva greeted him respectfully, “By good fortune, a son has now been born to you even in old age. All the annual taxes due to the king have been paid by you; for that purpose you came, so there is no reason for the great-souled to remain here. The purpose for which you came has been accomplished; why stay longer? Go, Nanda, quickly to your own cowherd village. My own child is also there, born of Rohiṇī; he must be protected by you just as you protect your own son.” Thus, the divine drama unfolded, with the Lord’s birth and the first steps taken to shield him from harm, as destiny moved inexorably forward.