With swift resolve, Virabhadra journeyed to the place where the lion among men, Lord Narasiṃha, resided. There, Virabhadra roused Hari from his intense state, and Hara too awakened Hari. Then Īśāna, speaking like a compassionate father to his own son, addressed Mādhava: “O blessed one, for the happiness of the world you have descended. By the will of the Supreme Lord, you uphold all beings. In the form of a fish, you protected the circle of living creatures. You once moved through the single ocean, binding it with your tail as a fish; you bore the earth as a tortoise and lifted it as a boar. “In this present form as Hari, you slew Hiraṇyakaśipu; as the dwarf, you subdued Bali with your stride. You alone are the imperishable Lord and the power behind all beings. Whenever suffering arises in the world, you descend to free it from affliction. None is greater or equal to you, O Hari, devotee of Śiva. By you, dharma and the Vedas are established on the auspicious path; this is the purpose of your descent, and for this, that one was slain, O Keśava. Your Narasiṃha form is exceedingly fierce, O Lord—withdraw it now, for you are the soul of the universe. Remain with me.” Thus addressed by Virabhadra, Narasiṃha, though spoken to with gentle words, grew even more terribly wrathful. Hari declared, “Go back to whence you came; do not speak of what is beneficial. Now I will withdraw this entire world, moving and unmoving. For the destroyer, there is no destruction—neither by himself nor by another; everywhere, my command prevails, and none is found as my ruler. By my grace, everything proceeds within its boundaries; I am the originator and terminator of all powers. Whatever being possesses glory, fortune, or might—know, O chief of hosts, that these are but expansions of my radiance. “Those who know the highest truth of the deities know only mine as supreme. Brahmā, Indra, and other gods, though endowed with power, are but my portions. Long ago, Brahmā with four faces was born from my navel-lotus, and the blessed Bull-bannered One arose from my forehead. The creator is established in rajas, Rudra is said to be of tamas; I am the controller of all—there is no deity higher than me. Transcending the universe, independent, I am the doer, the destroyer, the lord of all; this is my supreme radiance—who indeed wishes to hear of it? “Therefore, taking refuge in me, go forth free from distress; know this highest state—this is the Lord of beings, the great Lord. I am Time, the cause of the destruction of time; I have arisen to gather up the worlds. Know me, O Vīrabhadra, as Death of death; these gods live by my grace.” Hearing these proud words, Hari, the one of immeasurable valor, laughed. With lips curled in scorn, he spoke with disdain: “Do you not know the Lord of the universe—the destroyer, the wielder of the pināka bow? Your false arguments and disputes lead only to your own ruin. What other incarnations of yours and his remain now? By whom have they been performed? The end of these stories will come by someone or other. “See your own fault—you have reached this state. By that one skilled in destruction, you will be annihilated in a moment. You are Prakṛti, Rudra is Puruṣa; his power is established in you. From the lotus of your navel was born the five-faced Pitāmaha. For the purpose of creation, the world was first conceived by Śaṅkara, blue and red, who, engaged in severe austerity, contemplated it on his forehead. From that forehead of Śambhu arose, for the sake of creation, that being—this is not a fault. I am a portion of the god of gods, the one of the form of Mahābhairava. “I am appointed in your destruction, both by humility and by strength; thus, tearing apart the demon, you are endowed with a portion of power. You roar, unwearied, out of pride and arrogance; your help to the wicked is only for their harm. If, O lion, you consider yourself to be the great Lord, reborn, you are not the creator, nor the destroyer, nor are you ever independent. Like a potter’s wheel, you are set in motion by the wielder of the pināka bow; even now, the skull of the tortoise-formed one is fixed upon you. “Why, O deluded one, do you not realize? In the midst of Hara’s garland, have you forgotten, being afflicted by the rising of the tusk, that portion? Today, in your boar form, you were burned by the enemy of Tāraka, with a loud cry—at whose trident’s tip you, Viṣvaksena, were destroyed by a ruse. At Dakṣa’s sacrifice, I cut off your head, O you who are the form of sacrifice; even now, the fifth head of your son Brahmā remains. That portion, that power, was severed by him with intent; you, along with the hosts of Maruts, were defeated in battle by Dadhichi. “How could you forget, when your head was itching, the discus—beloved to you, O wielder of the discus—which belonged to him who acted valiantly? From where did you obtain it, and by whom was it made? Have you also forgotten that? I have seized all the worlds, while you were in the ocean of milk. How can you be called sattvic, when you lie asleep overcome by slumber, while the power of Rudra expands from the base of your pillar up to its summit? “Though you are powerful and fiery, you are deluded; even you two are not capable of beholding the greatness of that energy. Those who perceive as gross that supreme abode of Vishnu—of heaven and earth, Indra, Agni, Yama, and Varuna—” Thus, the exchange of words between the divine powers revealed their cosmic roles, their mutual origins, and their boundless yet intertwined potencies, each affirming and challenging the other’s supremacy, reflecting the profound mysteries of the universe.