After the gods and Gandharvas had gathered, they offered praises to Madhusūdana, declaring, "You are the refuge of all beings, most especially those who dwell in heaven." With earnest voices, they pleaded, "Protect us, O mighty-armed one; you alone should lift the mountain." Hearing their supplication, Hṛṣīkeśa transformed himself into the form of a tortoise. In this form, Hari descended into the ocean, placing the mighty mountain upon his back. Keśava, the very soul of the worlds, grasped the summit of the mountain with his hand. Standing amidst the gods, the Supreme Person began to churn the ocean. After a thousand years of churning, a being emerged, composed of the science of life—a man of virtue, holding a staff and water-pot, known as Dhanvantari. Alongside him, radiant apsarases also arose. From the churning of the waters came the essence that produced these excellent women, the apsarases. Sixty crores of these luminous apsarases came forth, and their attendants were countless. Yet, neither the gods nor the demons claimed them; since they were not taken by either side, they became common to all. Then, O delight of the Raghu lineage, Varuṇa’s daughter, Vāruṇī, of great fortune, emerged, seeking acceptance. The sons of Diti, O Rāma, did not accept her, but the sons of Aditi, O hero, welcomed Vāruṇī, who was blameless. Thus, the Daityas became asuras, and the sons of Aditi became suras; the gods rejoiced greatly at the acceptance of Vāruṇī. From the ocean also arose Uccaiḥśravā, the foremost horse, and the Kaustubha gem, O best of men, as well as the supreme nectar. For the sake of this nectar, a great destruction of clans ensued; the sons of Aditi fought fiercely with the sons of Diti. All the asuras joined forces with the rākṣasas, and a terrible battle erupted, bewildering the three worlds. When everything was in turmoil and destruction reigned, mighty Viṣṇu assumed an enchanting form and swiftly seized the nectar. Those who approached Viṣṇu, the imperishable Supreme Person, were crushed in battle by his power. In that fierce and great war between the Daityas and the Ādityas, the sons of Aditi slew the sons of Diti. With the conclusion of this tale, the forty-sixth chapter begins. When her sons had been slain, Diti was overwhelmed with sorrow. She spoke to her husband, Kaśyapa, son of Mārīca, saying, "O revered one, I am bereft of sons, slain by your mighty children. I desire a son, gained through long austerity, who will be the slayer of Indra. Therefore, I shall undertake austerity; you ought to grant me conception. Permit me to obtain a son who will be the slayer of Indra, O lord." Hearing her words, the illustrious Kaśyapa, radiant in splendor, addressed Diti, who was weighed down with grief. "So be it; may auspiciousness be yours. Remain pure, O possessor of austerity. You will bear a son who will slay Indra in battle. If you remain pure for a full thousand years, you will bear from me a son who will destroy the three worlds." Having spoken thus, the sage gently touched her with his hand, blessed her, and departed to pursue his own austerities. When he had gone, Diti, exceedingly delighted, reached the place called Kushaplava and undertook severe austerity. While she was performing her penance, Indra, endowed with supreme virtues, served her faithfully. Indra provided fire, kusa grass, wood, water, fruit, roots, and whatever else was desired. He attended upon Diti at all times, relieving her fatigue and massaging her. When only ten years remained of the thousand, Diti, greatly rejoicing, spoke to Indra: "Ten years remain of my austerity, O best among the powerful; after that, you will see your brother. May it be auspicious for you. The son whom I shall bear for your sake, eager for victory, will share with you, free from affliction, the conquest of the three worlds. At your request, O best of gods, your great-souled father granted me a boon at the end of a thousand years, concerning a son." Having spoken thus, Diti, as midday approached, was overcome by sleep and placed her feet where her head should be. Seeing her impure, with her hair at her feet instead of her head, Indra laughed and rejoiced. Indra entered her body through its opening, and with supreme power, divided her embryo into seven parts. As the embryo was being split by the thunderbolt with a hundred spikes, it cried out melodiously, O Rāma, and then Diti awoke. Indra spoke to the embryo, saying, "Do not cry, do not cry," and even as it wept, the mighty Indra split it. Diti pleaded, "Do not kill, do not kill," and out of respect for his mother’s words, Indra withdrew. Indra, holding the thunderbolt and with joined palms, spoke to Diti: "O goddess, you slept impure, with your head at your feet.