The battle raged on, fierce and unyielding. The lords of the Danavas, their faces contorted with fury, unleashed a torrent of dreadful weapons upon the lion, each projectile hissing through the air like serpents exhaling venom. Yet, as the king of the Danavas loosed his formidable arrows, those shafts vanished in the sky, disappearing like fireflies lost amidst the peaks of a mountain. Undeterred, the Daityas, now seething with wrath, hurled divine, blazing discs in every direction at the lion. The sky was illuminated by these whirling weapons, glowing as brightly as the radiant moon and sun-like planets at the end of an age. But the lion, great-souled and resolute, devoured all those fiery discs in a single moment. As they entered his mouth, the discs shone like lunar and solar eclipses hidden within the caverns of clouds. Hiraṇyakaśipu, the mighty Daitya, then unleashed a formidable spear, blazing with the brilliance of lightning reflected on polished arms. Seeing the spear rushing toward him, the lion let out a fierce roar and shattered it instantly. The broken fragments of the spear sparkled and blazed on the earth, like a great meteor fallen from the heavens. Arrows, gleaming like a radiant garland of blue lotuses and palāśa leaves, reached the lion and hovered nearby. Roaring as was fitting, the lion advanced as he pleased, scattering the Daitya army as easily as the wind scatters blades of grass. The Daitya chiefs, undeterred, moved through the sky and unleashed a rain of stones—fragments of rocks and mighty mountain peaks—upon their foe. The stones fell upon the lion’s great head, scattering in all ten directions like swarms of fireflies. With torrents of stones, the hosts of Daityas tried to cover the lion, their enemy, as clouds drape a mountain with streams. Yet, despite their numbers and ferocity, the Daityas could not move the best of gods, whose force was terrible, like the ocean unable to shift the greatest mountain. When their rain of stones was thwarted, the Daityas followed with a rain of water, streams pouring from clouds appearing everywhere. These streams, falling from the sky with sharp speed, covered all the heavens and every direction. Yet, though the streams fell ceaselessly to the ground, they did not touch the god; rain poured outside, but not above the one who stood in battle, resembling a lion by means of illusion. With the rain of stones destroyed and the rain of water dried up, the demon released an illusion powered by fire and wind. But mighty Indra, thousand-eyed and radiant, together with the cloud-givers, subdued the fire with a great downpour of water. When this illusion was countered in battle, the demon unleashed a terrifying, intense darkness in all directions. The world was enveloped in darkness, yet the demon shone, surrounded by his own brilliance, like the sun amidst gloom. In battle, the demons saw upon his forehead a triple flame and a furrowed brow, marked with a trident, resembling the triple-flowing Ganga. With all their illusions destroyed, the sons of Diti, pale and fearful, sought refuge with Hiranyakashipu. Blazing with anger and burning as if with his own radiance, Hiranyakashipu’s fury shrouded the world in darkness. Then arose the mighty winds: Āvaha, Pravaha, Vivaha, Udāvaha, Parāvaha, Saṃvaha, and Parivaha—the seven Maruts, agitated and powerful, moved through the sky, foretelling disaster. All the planets that appear at the destruction of worlds were seen in the sky, roaming as they pleased. The night-wandering lord of the sky, along with the planets and stars, moved along his path at night, not in his usual course. The blessed sun lost his color, and a great dark headless trunk was seen in the heavens. The fire-god encircled the earth, releasing hosts of flames, and the blessed one was repeatedly seen in the sky. Seven terrible suns, resembling smoke, rose in the sky, and the horned planets stood by the moon stationed in the heavens. Venus and Jupiter stood on the left and right; Saturn and Mars, shining like fire, were also present. All these dreadful sky-roaming planets, marking the end of an age, slowly ascended together upon the horns. The moon, with its stars and planets, the dispeller of darkness, did not favor Rohini, signaling the destruction of moving and unmoving beings. The moon was seized by Rāhu and struck by blazing meteors; flaming meteors moved freely across the moon as they pleased. Even the god of gods rained down blood; meteors, taking the form of lightning and making great noise, fell from the sky. At an untimely season, all the trees blossomed and bore fruit, and all the vines were laden with fruit—signs said to mark the destruction of the Daityas. From fruits, other fruits were produced; from flowers, more flowers. They opened and closed, laughed and wept, as the world trembled before the impending doom.