Emerging from his mouth, Nārāyaṇa—the sustainer of the worlds, whose abode is the king of serpents—spoke to the Grandfather, Brahmā. With reverence, Nārāyaṇa addressed him, “O venerable one, you are the origin, the seat, the middle, time itself, the directions, and space. I do not see the end of your belly, O sinless one.” After these words, Hari continued, “O blessed one, just so is my belly—eternal.” He then invited Brahmā, saying, “Enter, O best of gods, and see these incomparable worlds.” Hearing these delightful words, Brahmā rejoiced. With unwavering resolve, the Lord of Creation entered the belly of the glorious Lord once more, and within the womb of Hari, he beheld those very worlds. He wandered throughout the Lord’s body, searching for its end, but could not perceive it. Realizing the course of Brahmā’s journey within him, Viṣṇu closed all the doors of his being and, wishing to act, quickly thought, “I will rest comfortably.” Brahmā, seeing all the doors shut, made his form subtle and discovered a passage through the navel. Following the thread of the lotus, he observed, and from the lotus, the four-faced one emerged, manifesting his own form. Seated upon the radiant lotus, Brahmā—the self-born, blessed, source of the universe, and Lord of Creation—appeared resplendent. Meanwhile, as each of the two great beings contended with one another, a tremendous conflict arose in the midst of the ocean. From somewhere, the immeasurable Lord, master of all beings, wielder of the trident, the great god adorned in golden heroic garments, appeared. Ananta, the lord of the serpent-hoods, and Hari advanced swiftly, pressing and afflicting the ground beneath their feet. Suddenly, thick drops of water rose swiftly into the sky, and the wind blew with both extreme heat and cold. Witnessing this great wonder, Brahmā spoke to Viṣṇu, “These drops, both cold and hot, are greatly shaking the lotus. Tell me this doubt of mine, or what else do you intend to do?” Such words came forth from the mouth of the Lord of Creation. Hearing this, the Lord, destroyer of the asuras and performer of incomparable deeds, wondered, “Is there perhaps some other being dwelling in my navel?” As he spoke affectionately, I became angry with him; reflecting in my mind, I replied, “Why, O Lord, is there such confusion today in the lotus? What have I done, O god, that you speak to me with such supreme affection?” “O best of men, for what reason do you speak thus? Tell me truly,” asked the Lord of the gods, upholder of the worlds. Brahmā, repository of the Vedas, replied to lotus-eyed Viṣṇu, “It was by your will that I, who had previously entered your belly, did so. Just as you saw all the worlds within my belly, so too did I see all the worlds within your belly, entirely.” After a thousand years had passed, O sinless one, you, desiring to subdue me out of rivalry, withdrew me. Swiftly, all the doors were closed on every side; then, O greatly fortunate one, I considered with my own power. I found a passage through the navel region, emerging from the lotus stalk. Let there not be even the slightest hindrance to your purpose in any way. Thus, O Viṣṇu, this is the course of action to be followed for the tasks at hand; now tell me, what should I do next? At that time, Hiraṇyakaśipu, the immeasurable-souled enemy, received from Brahmā a flawless, beloved, and auspicious boon. Having heard these words, free from envy, Hari granted him the boon, for I had not resolved upon such a deed for you. Desiring to instruct you, and by chance, as a playful act, I quickly closed all the doors of my own being. Do not misunderstand; you are honored and worthy of worship to me. Forgive everything, O auspicious one, whatever I have done against you. As I am being honored by you, O Lord, descend from the lotus; I am unable to bear you, my radiant and venerable one. Brahmā said, “Ask for a boon, O Lord, descend from the lotus; become my son, O destroyer of enemies, and you will obtain great joy. Speak words of goodwill, O Lord, descend from the lotus; you are indeed our great yogi, worthy of praise, the very essence of the Pranava (Om). From this day forward, O Lord of all, adorned with a white turban, you will be renowned by the name ‘Padmayoni’ (Lotus-born). Become my son, O Brahman, Lord of the seven worlds.” Having granted the boon to the crowned one, the blessed Lord—pleased and free from envy—said, “So be it.” Nearby, he saw approaching one with a face like the rising sun, of great countenance. Beholding that most wondrous form, Nārāyaṇa spoke, “Immeasurable, with a great mouth, fanged, with hair destroyed from the head—ten-armed, marked with a trident, standing with eyes on all sides, the Lord of the worlds himself, manifest, deformed, girded with a munja grass belt—roaring most terribly, with a great erect phallus. Who indeed is this man, O Viṣṇu, a mass of brilliance, of great splendor?” Having pervaded all directions and the sky, he now advanced from there.