The cities of the enemies of the gods radiated with splendor, their streets and palaces adorned with dazzling jewels. Everywhere, hundreds of stately palaces and towering mansions rose, their grandeur outshining the realms of the gods themselves. These were cities of desire, surpassing all other worlds, flourishing with lush gardens, sparkling reservoirs, cool wells, and lakes filled with blooming lotuses. Within these cities were groves reminiscent of the fabled Aśoka forest, their air alive with the sweet calls of cuckoos. Magnificent halls and the finest four-pillared mansions stood amidst these gardens, while seven, eight, even ten-leveled buildings—each masterfully constructed by the architect Maya—displayed a riot of banners, flags, and garlands fluttering in the breeze. The air was alive with the gentle music of tinkling ornaments and rich with fragrant scents. Everything was beautifully arranged, adorned with aromatic powders, and offerings of flowers and food were everywhere. Some places were shadowed by the smoke of sacrifices, vessels brimming with offerings, resembling the vastness of the sky and the white lines of swans in flight. In the city of Tripura, the houses stood in neat rows, their facades gleaming with strings of pearls that seemed to laugh with the beauty of the moon. The very air was perfumed with jasmine, jātī flowers, and other blossoms, mingled with incense, and the pleasures of the five senses were ever-present, as if noble men had gathered together in joy. Tripura’s ramparts were adorned with gold, silver, copper, and precious gems, resembling the fortifications of mighty mountains. In each city, hundreds upon hundreds of gateways could be seen, each bearing banners and flags like peaks rising above the earth. The cities within Tripura were alive with the musical sound of anklets and shimmered with a splendor that surpassed even heaven. There were even cities inhabited by maidens, surrounded by gardens, pleasure grounds, ponds, banyan courtyards, lakes, rivers, forests, and groves. Everywhere, divine enjoyments and pleasures abounded, adorned with jewels and heaps of fragrant flowers. The exits of Tripura were protected by deep moats—hundreds of them—crafted as magical defenses. When the fame of this wondrous fortress, built by Maya with unmatched skill, spread, the sons of Diti—those ancient enemies of the gods and mighty kings—arrived in their thousands, full of boundless valor. The Asuras, proud and crushing their foes, filled Tripura like mountain elephants, just as the sky is filled with rain-laden clouds. When Maya, the great Asura architect, completed the fortress of Tripura, it became a sanctuary for both gods and Asuras, despite their ancient enmity. Armed and fierce as Death, the Asuras entered the houses with their wives and sons, following Maya’s instructions, and they rejoiced. Within the city, many lions roamed as in a forest, and crocodiles swam as in the ocean—mighty beings, their bodies gathered together, intense in their anger and strength. Tripura teemed with tens of millions of Daityas, the powerful enemies of the gods. From the depths of Sutala, the abode of the Danavas in the netherworld, and from mountain dwellings, they assembled, like clouds gathering before a storm. Whatever any resident of Tripura desired, Maya, through his magical arts, fulfilled for them. On moonlit nights, among lotuses in tranquil lakes, in gardens shaded by mango trees, and in forests where ascetics dwelled, the Daityas found joy. Their bodies were anointed with sandalwood paste; elephants, intoxicated and adorned with splendid ornaments and garments, paraded with beautiful garlands and fragrant unguents. The Daityas delighted with their beloved women, who were skilled in the arts of pleasure and graceful gestures. In this city built by Maya, the great Asuras rejoiced, devoting themselves to the pursuits of wealth, righteousness, and desire as they wished. For those who made Tripura their home, time passed happily, as if they dwelled in heaven itself. Harmony prevailed: sons attended to their fathers, wives to their husbands; free from quarrels, affection abounded. Not even the strongest among them suffered from unrighteousness. The sons of Diti worshipped Hara in the temple of Tripura. Auspicious proclamations echoed through the city, blessings and Vedic chants mingled with the ringing of anklets, and the sounds of flutes and lutes filled the air. The laughter of excellent women, stirring the hearts of all, was always heard, delighting the lords of the Daityas. They worshipped the gods and honored the Brahmins, and a great period passed as they recited mantras for virtue, wealth, and desire. But then, misfortune crept in—jealousy, thirst, hunger, strife, and quarrel entered Tripura together. They slipped in at twilight, bringing fear and unease, mingling among the people as diseases enter the body. These dreadful forces entered the inner city by Maya’s own hand, appearing to the Daityas in terrifying dreams before fully possessing them. When the thousand-rayed sun, source of all auspicious light, rose over Tripura, Maya entered the assembly hall. He appeared like a cloud before the two suns, and sat on a splendid seat adorned with gold, resembling the peak of Mount Meru—a golden mountain from which waters flow. At Maya’s sides sat the Daityas Tāraka and Vidyunmālī, like young elephants beside the lord of elephants. All the enemies of the gods, filled with unrestrained anger and bearing the wounds of battle, sat firmly in the assembly. When all were seated comfortably, Maya, the master of illusion, addressed the Daityas: “O sky-roaming ones, O sons of Daksha’s daughter, listen! I have seen a terrifying dream.