The demons known as the Kāleyas, driven by hunger and malice, descended upon the sacred hermitage of Cyavana—a place revered by the twice-born sages. There, they consumed a hundred ascetics, gentle souls who sustained themselves only on fruits and roots. By night, these fiends prowled unseen, and by day they slipped into the forests, eventually reaching the hermitage of Bharadvāja. This was a sanctuary where disciplined, celibate sages dwelled. The demons slew twenty ascetics here, those who lived solely on air and water, devouring them for food as they moved from one hermitage to the next. Night after night, relying on the strength of their arms, the Kāleyas roamed the land, killing countless groups of sages. Yet, O king of men, the people remained unaware of these horrors. The recitation of the Vedas ceased, ritual exclamations fell silent, and the festivals of sacrifice vanished. The world grew dispirited, gripped by the terror of the Kāleyas; the destruction spread, and the people suffered. Frightened and desperate to survive, people fled in all ten directions. Some hid in caves, others scattered—many among them were twice-born sages. Overwhelmed by fear, some abandoned their lives outright. Yet there were also heroic archers, proud and resolute, who remained behind. They tried with all their might to pursue the demons, but would not follow them to the ocean, where the Kāleyas had taken refuge. Peace eluded them; only destruction prevailed. With the cessation of sacrifices and festivals, disorder engulfed the world. Seeing this calamity, the gods, deeply distressed, assembled with Indra and, out of fear, held a council. Placing Nārāyaṇa, the unconquered Lord of Vaikuṇṭha, at the forefront, the gods addressed Madhusūdana, the slayer of Madhu. They prayed, “You are our creator, protector, and sustainer, O Lord of the world. All that moves and does not move has been created by you. Once, when the earth was lost in the ocean, you assumed the form of a boar and raised her up for the sake of the world. Long ago, you took the form of Narasiṃha and slew the mighty demon Hiraṇyakaśipu. You became Vāmana and cast down Bali, the great asura, from the three worlds. You struck down Jambha, the mighty archer and cruel disturber of sacrifices, together with the gods. Your deeds are countless. For us, who are terrified, you are the refuge, O slayer of Madhu. “Therefore, O Lord of gods, we entreat you: protect the worlds, the gods, and Indra from this great danger. By your grace, all four kinds of beings flourish; humans thrive, and the celestials are satisfied with offerings and ancestral rites. The worlds function in this way, mutually dependent; by your power, they are free from distress and protected by you alone. Now, supreme fear has come upon the worlds; we do not know who slays these Brāhmaṇas at night. If the Brāhmaṇas are destroyed, the earth will come to ruin. By your favor, O mighty-armed Lord, all beings are preserved. Protected by you, they will not meet destruction; but if not, they will perish.” Viṣṇu replied, “O gods, I know well the cause of this destruction. Listen without anxiety. There are fierce groups known as Kālakeyas. When Vṛtra was slain by Indra, the wise thousand-eyed one, the Kālakeyas fled to preserve their lives and entered Varuṇa’s abode. Hidden in the dreadful ocean, teeming with sea-creatures, they emerge at night to kill sages and destroy the world. But they cannot be destroyed, for they remain concealed within the ocean. Consider among yourselves how the ocean might be dried up.” Hearing Viṣṇu’s words, the gods approached the supreme Brahmā and then proceeded to the hermitage of Agastya. There they beheld the great-souled son of Varuṇa, radiant and revered by sages as the gods revere the Grandsire. They approached him, the illustrious son of Mitra and Varuṇa, steadfast and a treasury of austerity, engaged in his own sacred rites. The gods spoke, “In former times, when the worlds were afflicted by Nahusha, you were our refuge; for the sake of the worlds, you relinquished the sovereignty of the gods, O remover of the world’s affliction. The great mountain Vindhya, swelled with anger, ceased to grow, having transgressed your command and defied the sun. When the world was shrouded in darkness and beings were oppressed by death, they came to you as their protector and attained supreme peace. For us, who are always fearful, you are ever the refuge. Therefore, today we beg you for a boon, for you are indeed the granter of boons.” Bhīṣma, eager to know more, asked, “For what reason did Vindhya suddenly swell, overcome by wrath? I wish to hear this in detail, O great sage.” Pulastya explained, “The sun circles Meru, the great golden mountain, at its rising and setting. Seeing this, Vindhya spoke to the sun: ‘Just as Meru is always encircled by you, perform circumambulation for me as well, O Bhāskara.’ Thus addressed, the sun replied, ‘I do not circumambulate this mountain by my own will. This path has been assigned to me, by which this world is created.’” And so, the story unfolds: the terror of the Kāleyas, the suffering of the sages, the prayers of the gods, and the wisdom sought from the great Agastya, all set against the backdrop of cosmic order and the sun’s journey, revealing the interconnectedness of all beings and the ever-watchful guardianship of the divine.