In the celestial realms, as Indra advanced with his divine retinue, the heavens resounded with the deep, rolling thunder of sacred drums. Hundreds of groups of radiant apsaras, adorned in beauty, danced in joyous celebration, their movements weaving through the air like living music. Indra himself shone brilliantly, his chariot emblazoned with the banner of the serpent, dazzling like the sun. Drawn by a thousand swift horses, his chariot sped across the heavens with the swiftness of thought and wind. Concealed by his charioteer Matali, the magnificent chariot gleamed, its radiance enveloping it entirely—like Mount Meru wrapped in the blazing light of the sun. Amidst the assembly of gods stood Yama, the lord of death, raising his formidable staff and wielding a mace bound with the power of time itself. His presence struck terror into the hearts of the demons, his fearsome roar echoing across the divine host. Yama’s form was wondrous—joined with the four oceans, adorned with serpents that licked the air, and decked with conch and pearl bracelets. He bore a watery, ever-shifting aspect, brandishing the nooses of time. His horses, moonlike and swift as the wind, seemed to flow like water, and he delighted in countless playful feats. Dressed in shining white garments, with coral-bright bracelets, his body dark as a precious gem, Yama nobly bore the weight of the gods. Nearby, Varuna, lord of the waters, stood in the midst of the gods, holding his noose and eager for the coming battle. He was like the ocean itself, surging beyond its bounds. With him gathered the armies of Yakshas, Rakshasas, and Guhyakas, led by the mighty lord of treasures, who was adorned with conch and lotus emblems. The illustrious king of kings, the lord of wealth, appeared next. Holding a mace, he stood as a chariot-warrior upon the celestial chariot Pushpaka. Eager for the contest, he shone with valor, riding Naravahana. Mounted upon the sacred bull, he seemed the very image of Shiva himself. Thus, the four quarters were guarded: Indra, the thousand-eyed, held the east; Yama, king of ancestors, stood in the south; Varuna watched the west; and Naravahana protected the north. These four mighty guardians stationed themselves at the edges of the world, each safeguarding their direction for the army of the gods. The sun, radiant in his chariot drawn by seven horses, blazed across the heavens, his rays limitless and resplendent. His wheel rose and set, traversing the heights of Mount Meru and the very gate of heaven, scorching even the imperishable realms with his fierce heat. Endowed with a thousand rays and boundless energy, the sun, lord of the day, moved among the worlds in his twelvefold form, illuminating all. Soma, the moon, shone gently from his chariot, drawn by a white horse. His cool, soothing rays, filled from the waters of the Himalayas, delighted the world. This lord of the twice-born followed the host of stars, his body marked by the shadow of a hare, dispelling the darkness of night with his gentle beams. He was the sovereign of the luminaries, the giver of sap, the master of countless plants, and the very repository of nectar. The Daityas, the ancient foes of the gods, beheld Soma, armed with frost, established in the first, gentle, and truth-filled portion of the world, riding his chariot. The vital breath of all beings, divided fivefold among men, entered the seven bodily elements and traversed the three worlds. He who is called the maker of fire, the lord from whom all arises, who dwells in the seven notes and is ever praised with sacred words—he is also known as the supreme being, bodiless, moving through space, swift and joined with sound. This is Vayu, the life of all beings, arisen by his own brilliance. Vayu blew fiercely, agitating the Daityas and stirring the very clouds. The Maruts, accompanied by celestial Gandharvas and hosts of Vidyadharas, played with shining swords, flashing like serpents that have shed their skins. The lords of the serpents, producing potent watery poison, moved among the gods in the heavens, their wide mouths open in anticipation. The hosts of the gods, wielding mountains, rocky peaks, and hundreds of trees, advanced to strike the army of the Daityas. Among them was Hrishikesha, Padmanabha, Trivikrama—the lord of the world, whose path is veiled in darkness at the end of the age. He is the source of all wombs, the slayer of Madhu, the eater of offerings, established in sacrifice; his essence is earth, water, sky, and all beings. Dark-hued, he brings peace and is the destroyer of enemies. The slayer of foes among the immortals, bearing the discus and the mace, raised the sun, emerging amidst serpents with supreme brilliance. With his left hand, he grasped the great mace, destroyer of all Asuras, whose form is Kali, bestower of the time for the destruction of enemies. With other arms, the mighty lord, bannered with the serpent, held blazing weapons, including the Sharnga bow and others. There, too, was the self-born son of Kashyapa, the twice-born, the devourer of serpents—Garuda, the bird swifter than the wind, who shakes the very sky. Adorned with the serpent king in his mouth, freed from the origin of nectar, he shone like Mount Mandara raised high. In the ancient battles between gods and asuras, where his valor had been witnessed, he bore the mark of Indra’s thunderbolt from the quest for ambrosia. Garuda was crested, powerful, adorned with blazing earrings, and clothed in feathers of many hues, like a mountain rich with minerals. His broad, swelling chest glowed with the cool light of the moon, adorned with a shining jewel entwined by the coils of a serpent. With his two beautiful, feathered wings, he playfully covered the sky, as clouds with Indra’s bow at the end of an age envelop the heavens. He was adorned with banners of blue, red, and yellow, concealed in the guise of a banner, the dwelling of a mighty-bodied one. Atop Suparna, the best of sky-farers, whose form shone with the color of gold, the illustrious Lord, younger brother of Aruna, took his place, ready for the great battle.