With a heart full of longing, the great one expressed his deepest wish: “I desire you alone as my son, or one who is truly like you.” Yet, he confessed his own limitation, saying humbly, “O auspicious one, I do not know your highest nature in its true reality.” Seeking grace, he bowed down with reverence and took refuge at the lotus feet of the Lord. Then, as Janardana stood before him, he turned to his son and spoke: “O sinless one, divine knowledge—lordly and pure—will arise in you.” He urged, “O lord of gods, ancestor of the worlds, do this by me.” He assured him, “Hari, the Lord, will uphold your yoga and welfare.” At this, Hari, touching the god Brahma, spoke kindly, “Choose a boon, for in truth, we two are not different in essence.” His voice was pleased as he gazed at the four-faced one. Brahma replied, “I behold the supreme self; may devotion to you arise in me. You are the agent of all actions; I am the subordinate deity. You are Soma, I am Surya; you are night, I am day. You are knowledge, I am the knower; you are maya, I am the lord. The god who is I, completely without parts, is also the supreme Narayana. Protect this entire world, with gods, asuras, and humans. You are the one abode, unmanifest, of infinite power.” Thereafter, he entered the great lotus that had sprung from the navel. In that moment, two mighty demons—Madhu and Kaitabha, brothers—appeared together. They arose from between the ears of the god of gods, the wielder of the Śārṅga bow. These two demons became the torment of the three worlds, and it was declared that they must be destroyed. The command was given: both must be slain. Viṣṇu subdued Kaitabha, and Jishnu subdued Madhu. With affection in his heart, Hari spoke sweet words, “O mighty one made of splendor, I am unable to bear you.” Then Viṣṇu and the goddess Nidrā, united as one, fell silent. Afterwards, Brahmā, known as Nārāyaṇa, rested upon the waters in deep sleep. He, who is beginningless, endless, and non-dual—the very Brahman—assumed the Vaiṣṇava disposition and, in that very form, brought forth creation. He created Ṛbhu and the ancient, eternal Sanatkumāra. Yet, knowing the supreme state, they did not set their minds on creation; their awareness was lost due to the Lord’s own illusion. Then, for the purpose of delusion and desire, he spoke forth the lotus-born as his son. This one, whom you, O Śaṅkara, call your son, was declared to be his own. Desiring to create beings, he performed a most difficult austerity. After a long time, distress gave rise to anger within him. From the drops of his tears, beings known as pretas came into existence. Overcome by anger, Lord Prajapati abandoned his life-breaths. He shone with the brilliance of a thousand suns, like the fire at the end of an age. Because of his weeping, it was proclaimed: “You will be known in the world as Rudra.