The gods began to queue up one after another.
Yama, the God of Death, Vishvakarman, the Divine Architect, Xīmí, the Goddess of the Earth, each Deva, in turn, joined the line, holding a golden bowl and partaking in the spring-like Amrita.
The gods all tilted their heads back to drink.
"The power of the Amrita is within me!"
"So warm, so comfortable!"
"I am now filled with strength!"
...
In the immortal Amrita, the gods couldn't help but show intoxicating expressions of bliss.
Rahu, disguised as a Gandharva, mingled within the massed armies of the Heavenly Realm, gazing from afar at the endless queue that made his heart flutter anxiously.
More annoyingly, the beautiful Apsaras would occasionally come and help familiar Gandharvas cut in line.
Rahu saw the line growing longer and that he kept getting pushed further back.
His face fell, and he frowned, feeling a rising sense of annoyance in his heart.
With such a long queue, when would it be his turn!
"No way!"
