From the steadfastness of Dhṛti was born Niyama, his son; and from Tuṣṭi, the quality of contentment, Saṃtoṣa arose. Kriyā, the embodiment of action, gave birth to Daṇḍa and also to Samaya. Lajjā, the spirit of modesty, brought forth Vinaya, the son of humility, while Vapu, the personification of form, gave rise to Vyavasāyaka, the resolute one. Yaśas, the glory, was born of Kīrti, the renowned—thus were these sons of Dharma brought into being. In this way, the creation that springs from Dharma, leading beings toward happiness, has been described. Yet, from Nikṛti and Anṛta—embodiments of wickedness and falsehood—were born Bhaya, the spirit of fear, and Naraka, the realm of torment. From Bhaya came forth Māyā, the power of illusion, and Mṛtyu, the taker of beings, death itself. From Mṛtyu then emerged disease, old age, sorrow, thirst, and anger. These beings, it is said, have neither wives nor sons; they are all celibate, without familial ties. Thus, O foremost among sages, the creation has been briefly described. After this account, the sages, their minds filled with questions and reverence, bowed to Vishnu, the granter of boons, and addressed him with their doubts. “O Lord, please resolve this uncertainty for us. How did the earth become the son of Brahma, whose own birth is unmanifest? How did the lord of beings, born from the cosmic egg, come to be? Explain to us the sonship of Brahma and his origin from the lotus.” In the beginning, all was but a single, boundless ocean. No gods existed, nor sages. Upon Shesha, the serpent, the Supreme Person rested, using him as a couch. With a thousand arms and endowed with omniscience, he was contemplated by the wise. Radiant and resplendent, embodying the highest yoga, he dwelled in the hearts of yogis everywhere. From his navel emerged a lotus—pure, fragrant, and the very essence of the three worlds—adorned with auspicious stamens and filaments. To that sacred place came the blessed Hiranyagarbha, the golden embryo. Deluded by his own maya, he spoke sweet words, asking, “Who are you, alone here? Tell me, O best among men.” Brahma, his voice deep as rolling thunderclouds, replied, “Know me as the Supreme Person, the great lord of yoga. The earth, with its mighty mountains and continents, is encircled by seven oceans.” Yet Brahma, even with this knowledge, inquired further, “But who are you, O great yogi?” The Lord replied to the lotus-eyed Brahma with a gentle smile and soft words: “The universe abides in me alone; I am Brahma, the all-faced.” Then, with the permission granted through yoga, he entered the body of Brahma. Once within, he beheld the inner expanse of that divine being and was filled with wonder. The blessed Ajātashatru then addressed Brahma, the Grandfather, saying, “Enter and behold these various worlds, O best of men.” Kushadhvaja again entered the belly of the Lord of Fortune. Though he wandered within the god, he could not find the end of Hari. Brahma, guided by Janardana, found no exit at the navel. At last, the four-faced Brahma emerged from the lotus, abandoning his previous form. Thus was Brahma, the self-born, the blessed, the source of the world, the Grandfather, manifest. He addressed Vishnu, the Supreme Person, his voice resonant and deep as a rain-filled cloud.