The heir of the Pāṇḍavas, King Parīkṣit, sat composed, fully aware that his time had come. He fixed his mind on the life he had lived, reflecting on the teachings that a king should always perform acts of charity and merit. He remembered that through righteousness, even disease could be destroyed, and life made enduring. Yet, he also knew that if the decree of death was not fulfilled, then acts such as bathing and giving gifts at the time of death would lead one to heaven; otherwise, to hell. He considered the sins committed by harming the twice-born, and the terrible curse of a brāhmaṇa, which inevitably approach a king at the hour of death. At that moment, there was no brāhmaṇa at his side to warn him; death ordained by the Creator is, indeed, unavoidable. Meanwhile, Takṣaka, the serpent king, intent on fulfilling the curse, devised a plan. He instructed the nearby snakes to assume the guise of ascetics and sent them forth. Takṣaka himself, taking fruits and roots, entered into one of the fruits in the form of a worm. The disguised serpents departed swiftly, carrying the fruits, and reached the royal palace, where they stood near the mansion. The guards noticed the ascetics and questioned their purpose. The ascetics replied, “We have come today from the forest hermitage to see the king. We wish to bless the heroic son of Abhimanyu, the radiant scion of his line, and to nurture him with Atharvan mantras. Inform the king that sages have come desiring an audience; after performing blessings, we will depart, giving him sweet fruits. In the lineage of the Bhāratas, there have never been doorkeepers seen, nor is it heard that ascetics are denied the king’s audience. We will ascend to where King Parīkṣit is, bless him with our benedictions, and, having received permission, we will depart.” Sūta narrated that the guards, hearing these words and believing the ascetics to be brāhmaṇas, replied according to the king’s instructions: “Today, O brāhmaṇas, you cannot see the king—such is our decision; tomorrow, all the ascetics may come here to the royal palace. The palace is not to be ascended by brāhmaṇas, O best of sages; this was ordered by the king out of fear of a brāhmaṇa’s curse—there is no doubt.” The Brahmins then spoke: “Let the fruits, roots, and water be brought.” They instructed the royal guards to deliver these to the king. The guards returned to the king and informed him that the ascetics had arrived. The king said, “Bring here whatever fruits, roots, and such there are. Ask the ascetics what their purpose is, and about their coming in the morning again. Convey my respects to them, for today I will not grant an audience.” The guards collected the fruits, roots, and whatever else there was, and presented them to the king with great honor. When the disguised Brahmins and the guards had departed, the king took the fruits and spoke to his ministers: “Let my friends eat all these fruits today; I myself will eat this one great fruit offered by the Brahmins.” The son of Uttarā gave the fruits to his friends, and, taking the ripe fruit in his hand, the king himself split it open. Within the fruit, he found a tiny worm, black-eyed and reddish, which he saw clearly. Addressing his astonished ministers, the king said, “The sun is setting; today I have no fear from poison. I accept that curse—let this worm bite me.” With these words, he placed the worm upon his neck. When the sun had set, the worm clung to his throat and transformed into Takṣaka, terrifying and embodying death itself. The serpent entwined and bit the king; the ministers were struck with wonder and wept, overwhelmed by grief. Seeing the dreadful serpent, they fled in terror; all the guards cried out, and a great clamor arose. Enwrapped by the coils of the serpent, his great strength destroyed, the king, son of Uttarā, spoke nothing and did not move. From Takṣaka’s mouth, a fierce, fiery flame arose, burning and instantly consuming the king, taking his life. Having swiftly taken the king’s life, Takṣaka ascended into the sky; people saw him as if burning up the world. The king fell lifeless, like a tree consumed by fire; all the people wailed, seeing the lord of men dead. Sūta continued: Seeing the king lifeless and his young son, all the ministers performed the proper rites for his journey to the next world. On the banks of the Ganges, the king’s body, reduced to ashes, was placed upon the pyre prepared with fragrant aloeswood. For the one who had died a difficult death, the priests performed the funeral rites according to the prescribed Vedic mantras. They gave gifts to the Brahmins—cows, gold as appropriate, abundant varieties of food, and many kinds of garments. At an auspicious hour, the ministers seated the young son, who increased the joy of the people, upon the splendid throne. The townspeople, villagers, and all the people proclaimed the child Janamejaya, endowed with royal marks, as king. The nurse taught him all the royal insignia; day by day, he grew and became a person of great intelligence.