All the beings of the cosmos—the immortals, the mighty Dānavas and Daityas, the Siddhas, the Vidyādharas, and humankind—turned their thoughts and praises to the Supreme. They recognized him as the very essence of heaven and liberation, the sacred syllable Om and the sacrifice itself. He was the beginning, the middle, and the end of all that moves and all that stands still. He was revered as the Supreme Lord, the transcendent teacher, the universal benefactor, and the most auspicious one. Those who sought refuge in him attained the highest good. Hearing such praises, even the Vedas themselves would be moved to compassion everywhere. With deep reverence, Brahmā, radiant and supreme, approached that effulgent pillar—the very embodiment of the Lord. Though hesitant, Brahmā bowed and, with a gentle smile, pressed on with his purpose. He addressed the Lord with many names: “O destroyer of Time and sacrifices, blue-throated one, moon-crested one, all victory to you! Śambhu, Śiva, Īśāna, Śarva, Three-eyed one, matted-haired one—victory to you! Lord of victory, wielder of the broken axe, trident-bearer, Lord of beasts, Hara—victory to you! Rudra, destroyer of sacrifices, wielder of the Pināka bow, leader of the Pramathas—victory to you! Terrible one, hunter of beasts, clad in hides, ocean of compassion—victory to you!” He extolled the Lord further: “By your command, the wind-god and the serpent uphold the earth. The luminaries move in the heavens by your will. You ordain and foster prosperity; the earth yields its crops at your command. You possess the unique splendor of the great powers, beginning with aṇimā. Yet, when freed from suffering, we forget you; in distress, we remember you. It is by your grace alone that devotion arises in us, and by your will, it is withdrawn.” Thus praised, with hands joined in reverence, the Lord of creatures—Viṣṇu, the bearer of the discus—stood before him. Then, the Supreme Lord mounted his bull, white as the peak of Kailāsa. His matted locks were crowned with a crescent moon, serpent earrings adorned his ears, and his eyes shone from his broad forehead. In his hands he bore a trident, a skull, a drum, a deer, an axe, and a bow. His form was dusted by his own breath, his upper garment was elephant hide, and his lower garment was a tiger skin. Thus, he appeared before them all. Lotus-born Brahmā, knowing nothing of what had truly transpired, was bewildered by this vision. Maheśvara, the great Lord, cast a gracious and delighted gaze upon Mādhava, and spoke of the authority both he and Viṣṇu possessed at the beginning of creation. He recalled how, when his greatness had been tested, Hari (Viṣṇu) became awakened. He mentioned how, when he was mocked, Brahmā had desired five faces. Now, for a third time, Brahmā’s words had crossed a line, and Giriśa (Śiva) lamented how such things could be endured. When Brahmā, with a ketaka blossom as his crest, bore false witness, Śiva cursed him, but then affectionately addressed Viṣṇu. “Truly, you are born from my body; you are especially endowed with the quality of sattva. Therefore, there shall never be any loss of devotion towards me from you.” Thus, out of compassion, the three-eyed Lord showed favor to the devotee of the egoless Hari. Yet, it was said: “Except through awe and fear, your grace is not easily attained. Your words are not spoken by yourself, and your sovereignty cannot be challenged. Who is Viṣṇu? Who am I? Who are these guardians of the directions, or Indra and the others? You alone are the Lord, O husband of Pārvatī; we and all these others are but your cattle.” So, in this way, the greatness, compassion, and supremacy of the Lord were revealed to all, and the assembly was filled with awe and devotion.