O Lord, swiftly protect the three worlds, for they are yours to safeguard. Thus prayed the gods, who, in their longing for refuge, approached Mahadeva—Shiva himself—and the mighty one who had assumed the form of Narasimha. With great reverence, they offered their collective power to Shambhu, to Bhairava, whose energy knows no bounds. In a single moment, the divine mothers and the serpent Shesha became one, merging their essence. “Those who remember me here,” declared the Lord, “must be carefully protected.” From a portion of Maheshvara was born a goddess who grants both the joys of the world and ultimate liberation. Her form is both tamasic and rajasic, while the god of gods appeared with four faces. At the end of an aeon, Rudra will devour the entire universe; yet, when sattva prevails, he establishes the world anew. The root nature, unmanifest, is called eternal bliss. Again, the gods sought refuge in Mahadeva and in Hari himself, seeking the boundless greatness of Bhairava, the god of gods. Once, there was a great king named Virocana, and his son Bali. Through righteousness, Bali protected the three worlds and all beings, both moving and still. One day, the venerable sage Sanatkumara, renowned among the wise, arrived at Bali’s city. The king rose, bowed his head in respect, and with joined palms, spoke humbly: “Today, the lord of yogis himself, knower of Brahman, has come to me. O son of Brahma, what task should I perform?” Sanatkumara replied, “I have come to see you; truly, you are most fortunate. In all the three worlds, there is none as righteous as you. O best knower of Brahman, tell me—what is the supreme dharma among all dharmas? Reveal to me the most secret path, the highest knowledge of the self.” Entrusting his kingdom to his own son, Bali became devoted to the practice of yoga, dedicating himself to Brahman and righteousness. So great was his devotion that he even conquered Purandara, the king of the gods. Defeated, Purandara sought refuge in Vishnu, the imperishable Lord. Vishnu, considering the welfare of the gods, resolved: “May my son be born for the destruction of the Daitya lords.” Thus, the gods sought refuge in Vishnu, the unmanifest protector, the eternal shelter—Hari. Vasudeva, without beginning or end, blissful and pure, became manifest as space itself. Then, Hari, the very self of yoga, appeared before his mother, the goddess. Feeling fulfilled, she began to praise Keshava: “O embodiment of victory, pure as countless aeons, form of bliss—salutations to you, Vasudeva; I bow to you. Salutations to Varaha; to you again I bow. O Lord, source of the universe, salutations once more. Salutations again to Shiva, the one whose form is singular.” Pleased with her devotion, the Lord smiled with delight and granted her a boon. She chose him alone as her son, for the welfare of the gods. Having bestowed this immeasurable boon, Hari vanished on the spot. Thus, the mother of the gods herself bore Narayana as her embryo. But even as this divine event unfolded, terrible omens began to arise in the city of Bali, son of Virocana.