As the lingering sound echoed through the air, the eyes of the Devas and Rishis turned as one, their gaze fixed upon Surya. Some were surprised, others were confused, and many were curious; their expressions were a mix of emotions.
Surya stood still, momentarily stunned. What should he say now? How could he help Indra at this moment? But under the weight of the Devas' scrutiny, he forced himself to maintain composure, puffing out his chest with a regal air. He raised his right hand, holding up a golden staff, radiating majesty.
"Surya!"
Brahma's voice thundered across the Svargas, deep and commanding, reverberating through the heavens themselves. "Hiranyakashipu's blessing makes him immune to death by the passage of time: neither by day nor by night. He cannot be killed indoors or outdoors by humans, Devas, Asuras, or any being of my creation. To fulfill the first condition, we need you! Only you can alter the time of day to make the impossible possible."
The Devas' eyes narrowed in focus. This was the moment they had been waiting for. With reverence, they clasped their hands together and bowed deeply.
"Surya, you are the light that guides us all!" Agni spoke, his fiery presence crackling with intensity. "Without your courage, this battle cannot be won."
"Think of the Triloka!" Vayu added, his voice like the wind itself. "The humans, Svarga, and the Patala—they all look to you now. Will you let Hiranyakashipu's tyranny consume them?"
"Your radiance pierces the darkness, Surya!" Varuna's voice boomed. "Now is the time to show your strength and bravery, to rise as the protector of all creation!"
At this, Surya's eyebrows lifted, his divine body glowing even brighter, his radiance dazzling to all who gazed upon him. The Devas turned away, unable to look directly at the intensity of his light. He smiled in approval.
"Good," he said with a laugh. "Let me bring the dusk to the final moments of Hiranyakashipu."
Surya raised his head, his voice filled with confidence. He spread his arms wide, his form a beacon of light.
In the next instant, he turned to the side and called out. "Aruna!"
With a snap of reins, the sound of galloping hooves filled the air. The god of dawn, Aruna, drove the sun chariot, its golden horses racing toward Surya with blazing heat.
Surya leaped effortlessly into the chariot, soaring into the sky with the divine steeds beneath him.
"Hurry, Aruna!" he urged, his voice a command. The divine horses surged forward, carrying Surya as they flew toward Svarga, the dawn breaking on the horizon.
Just as they were gaining speed, Aruna, his charioteer, turned to Surya with a mischievous grin.
"You said you were going to ride off into the sunset, yet here we are racing toward the dawn. Are we still running, or have we switched paths?"
Surya raised an eyebrow, rolling his eyes slightly. "Don't joke at this moment Aruna," he replied with a smirk, his focus never wavering as he urged the chariot onward.
"If we continue running toward the sunset for too long, something unexpected could happen, and it may prove too dangerous. Perhaps we should stop here."
"No need," Surya replied with confidence. "The dawn of the Devas will be the sunset for Hiranyakashipu. This moment is enough."
A smile spread across his face, and Aruna, finally understanding, tightened the reins. The sun chariot came to a sudden halt.
In an instant, the faintest trace of dawn flickered on the horizon.
The time had come.
Within the celestial palace, Indra surveyed his surroundings. Ruins lay scattered before him, and not a single door remained intact.
"Hahaha!" Hiranyakashipu's voice rang out, full of mockery. "You can't kill me! Even if it's dawn, I won't die indoors or outdoors. Heh!"
His teeth ground together as he sneered, the sound biting through the air. His legs trembled, but with great effort, he pushed himself upright, clutching the giant foot of Narasimha for support.
"Did I ask you to speak?" Hiranyakashipu sneered, his voice laced with disdain.
Indra's eyes narrowed. "Kneel!" he commanded.
With a wave of his hand, Sahsrakavacha materialized around him, and a beam of poisonous blue light shot forth, striking Hiranyakashipu.
"Ahhh!" The Asura screamed in agony, his eyes widening with pain. His body crumpled once again forced down.
"Impossible!" Hiranyakashipu growled, struggling. "A door is so easily built... doesn't he think there's nothing more he can do?"
Indra chuckled darkly, his form shifting as divine power flowed through him.
Uh-huh! Uh-huh! Uh-huh!
Golden light erupted around him, and weapons flew from his body, assembling with divine precision. The maces of Vristi and Dristi formed the door's frame, the Vajra set as the threshold, and Indra's bow gleamed with seven-colored light, placed atop as the final touch.
In the blink of an eye, a doorway of divine weapons, glowing with celestial light, stood before them.
Narasimha, the mighty human lion, turned his gaze toward the divine weapon door. His eyes flashed with approval, and a slight nod of satisfaction escaped him.
"Indeed, the King of Svarga is wise," Narasimha thought. "Neither indoors nor outdoors. A door—it is fitting."
In the next moment, the colossal figure of Narasimha shrank, returning to his original form.
The golden-sheeted man, exhausted from the battle, knelt on the ground, his hands pressed against the earth. Sweat drenched his body, and he panted heavily, the weight of the moment pressing down on him.
Although Hiranyakashipu's power was not infinite, after relentless resistance, he had finally reached his limit—exhausted and on the brink of collapse.
At that moment, a sudden relief washed over him as his back loosened. He looked up sharply, alarmed.
Narasimha stood before him, his mane swirling wildly, fangs gleaming like weapons, and his bloodshot eyes glowing with a murderous hunger. With a single motion, he seized Hiranyakashipu, lifting him effortlessly into the air and striding toward the divine weapon door.
"I am neither a god, an Asura, a Yaksha, a Rakshasa, nor a human nor I am created by Brahma!" Narasimha growled, his voice a deep rumble. "It is dawn now—neither day nor night!"
As he spoke, he held Hiranyakashipu high, moving closer to the divine weapon door. Indra, leaning casually on his divine spear Amogha, watched the unfolding scene with keen interest. His arms were crossed, his expression thoughtful.
Then, a sudden realization struck him. The power of his penance.
Indra had been in slumber for thousands of years, but the strength he had accumulated before his rest should have nearly reached two thousand years of penance. He had cast an extra layer of golden sun armor and received a blessing that made him immune to harm from weapons.
Based on his calculations, there should have been roughly a thousand years of power left.
Yet, as he focused his senses, something seemed off. The energy from his penance was only 600 years old.
What?
Indra blinked, narrowing his eyes as his gaze shifted inward, tracing the power's trail. His senses honed in on the divine armor—specifically, the second layer of golden sun armor.
"My second layer of divine armor has consumed over a thousand years of my penance?" Indra thought, shock creeping into his chest. "It's drained nearly fourteen hundred years of my power!"
He paused, contemplating. "The greater the blessing required, the more penance is consumed..." Indra mused, but then his lips curved into a reassuring smile. "It's alright. There's still plenty of time ahead."
Once Hiranyakashipu fell, the Asuras would be leaderless and remain dormant for some time. That would give Indra more time to replenish his strength, to rebuild his power.
Indra's smile grew, his confidence unwavering. He wasn't concerned. There was still time to spare.
Having already slain two Asura kings in quick succession, Indra couldn't imagine that any remaining Asura king would be foolish enough to challenge him now. Surely, they would recognize the futility of such a move, wouldn't they?
He shook his head, smiling, pushing the thought aside. His gaze shifted to the human lion and Hiranyakashipu, the scene before him still unfolding.
At this moment, Narasimha, the lion, had lifted Hiranyakashipu high into the air. The Asura king flailed and struggled, but it was no use—his strength was futile against Narasimha's grasp.
"This is neither indoors nor outdoors!" Narasimha roared, his voice a low rumble. "But it is the threshold!"
With that, Narasimha suddenly seated himself on the threshold of the Divine Weapon Gate, his form towering over the fallen Asura king. In the blink of an eye, he slammed Hiranyakashipu down, pinning him against his knees.
"You are neither in the Sky nor Earth!" Narasimha continued, his voice filled with a divine fury. "But at my knees!"
As he spoke, Narasimha opened his claws, his sharp, bloodthirsty face glinting in the light. The gleaming talons reflected a terrifying glow, and for a brief moment, all eyes were on him.
With a predatory snarl, Narasimha extended his claws, their sharp, glinting edges glowing with an otherworldly light. His bloodthirsty visage twisted into a fierce expression as he declared, "No weapon forged by human, Deva, or Asura shall end you. But these—" he raised his claws high, their golden brilliance radiating power, "—are no weapon. They are my nails, unbound by your pitiful boon!"
In Brahmaloka, the Devas held their collective breath, their eyes wide with anticipation. The moment they had been waiting for was nearly at hand. They waited for Narasimha to strike, to finally end Hiranyakashipu's reign of terror.
Narasimha's claws descended like lightning, striking Hiranyakashipu's belly. A deep, red line appeared, and blood spilled forth, staining the air.
The Devas gasped, their eyes widening in shock.
"Ahhhhhh!" Hiranyakashipu howled in agony.
But just as Narasimha prepared to land the final blow, something unexpected happened. Hiranyakashipu suddenly raised his head, his roar vibrating through the air.
What?
Narasimha froze, a trace of confusion flickering across his bloodthirsty expression. The Asura king was clearly in pain, yet why did he roar with such intensity for something as minor as a wound?
Narasimha's gaze turned to Hiranyakashipu as the Asura king's body began to tremble violently. Then, it expanded, glowing with an eerie blue light.
Hiranyakashipu's roar suddenly stopped. The light around him flickered, and there was an eerie silence. No breath. No movement.
How did he die? Narasimha frowned, his claws still outstretched. He glanced down at his paws, his sharp talons gleaming in the divine light.
A faint blue hue began to seep into the air.
Indra, watching closely, was momentarily startled. His gaze sharpened as he observed the unexpected turn of events. His eyes widened as he saw Narasimha's face, now darkening into a blue hue, transforming into that of Ugra Narasimha.
"Could it be...?"
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