King of Devas

Narasimha opened his massive jaws, baring razor-sharp teeth and glistening fangs. Tilting his head back, he unleashed a wild, earth-shaking roar.

Waves of divine power surged within his monstrous form, radiating outward as invisible ripples. The Svargas trembled under sheer force; stars crumbled from the heavens, the human world quaked violently, and even the fabric of the universe began to fray.

Having devoured Surya, the Sun itself, Narasimha's power swelled to terrifying new heights. The deadly poison of Halahala, feared by all creation, seemed insignificant in his presence, suppressed by his overwhelming might.

"Raaawwrrrrr!!!" The deafening sound reverberated across realms.

But his hunger remained insatiable. He craved more. He needed more.

Saliva dripped from his fangs like a torrential river, pooling beneath him as his fiery red eyes blazed with unholy hunger. Like twin suns, they scanned the vast expanse, seeking traces of the Devas. His beastly instincts flared as he detected their presence, and his lips curled into a feral snarl.

"SPIT THEM OUT!" Indra's commanding voice thundered from behind him, brimming with righteous anger. Indra's roar echoed across Svarga, reverberating through the skies, shaking the heavens, and forcing even Narasimha to pause.

Narasimha's fur bristled, each strand standing on end like a startled predator. Panic flickered briefly in his eyes before he whipped around, looking like a lion caught off guard. Then, like a great cat bristling in defiance, his divine energy exploded outward, setting the air ablaze with scorching flames.

In an instant, he shot upward, propelled by sheer fury and instinct.

The sweet, tantalizing scent of prey wafted through the air, and his sharp senses honed in on it. His lips curled back, and a guttural growl escaped his throat as he flew faster, his speed reaching unimaginable levels.

There! He had found it—the perfect prey, easier to devour and far more tempting than the spiked thorn in his path. The so-called thorn could wait; Narasimha would feast first.

With an unyielding hunger and a determination to consume all, Narasimha streaked across the skies like a blazing comet, heading straight for Brahmaloka. His confidence surged. He was no longer afraid.

Fear? Narasimha laughed inwardly. Fear is for the weak.

A fiery stream of light, he tore through the cosmos, unstoppable in his quest for destruction and dominance.

…

The Devas stood frozen in shock and terror.

All eyes were locked on the luminous mirror, where the monstrous form of Narasimha loomed, his image crackling with divine energy. It felt like the lion god could leap out of the reflection at any moment.

"Narasimha is coming!"

Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom!

The pounding of their hearts echoed like a chorus of celestial drums—the "Damaru Drum" itself, heralding impending doom. Wide-eyed and pale, the Devas exchanged helpless glances, their expressions a mixture of horror and despair.

"Lord Brahma!"

Rishi Brihaspati turned abruptly, his hands clasped in desperation as he prayed to the Creator. His voice quivered with urgency.

The other Devas quickly followed suit, bowing their heads and pressing their palms together, their pleas weak and trembling. Their fear was palpable, and their once-divine confidence was reduced to pitiful fragility.

Brahma sat in uneasy silence.

He couldn't deny that he relished the adoration of the Devas, their prayers sweet as nectar to his ears. But this? This was beyond even his vast capabilities. How was a retired creator supposed to stop an unstoppable Narasimha?

"Should I curse him?" Brahma muttered under his breath, unsure if even that would suffice.

As if in response to his hesitation, the very foundations of Brahmaloka trembled violently.

Brahma's hands shook as he grasped his sacred kettle, the holy water within nearly spilling over. His face twisted in shock and fear as an earsplitting roar shattered the skies.

From below, Narasimha surged upward, his divine form growing to colossal proportions. His mountainous body loomed over Brahmaloka like a shadow of doom.

"Raaawwrrrrr!!!"

The furious roar erupted like a storm, the vibrations tearing through the heavens. The Devas fell to their knees, unable to withstand the overwhelming waves of sound.

Narasimha's maw opened wide, his bloodstained fangs glinting like the edges of a black hole. The suction force that emanated from his mouth was indescribable, dragging Devas and Rishis alike into the abyss.

"NO!" The cry echoed among the ranks of the celestial beings as chaos broke loose.

The Gandharva armies, once valiant and proud, were swept away like leaves in a gale. One by one, they hurtled into the gaping jaws of Narasimha, disappearing as if consumed by a voracious whirlpool.

Even Rahu, the mischievous Asura, found himself caught in the chaos. His black smoke form twisted and writhed, desperately trying to resist the pull.

"I'm not even a deva—I'm an Asura!" Rahu screamed in panic. "This is a mistake! I am the one who swallows Surya and Chandra. Not the the other way around."

Thud!

A stray Gandharva warrior collided with Rahu's head, sending it spinning like a top.

"W-wait!" Rahu stammered, dazed as his vision blurred and stars danced before his eyes. His body coiled instinctively, but it was too late. With a final, comical tumble, he was sucked into the gaping maw of Narasimha, vanishing into the void.

The last echoes of his protests were drowned out by Narasimha's triumphant, guttural roar. The destruction of Brahmaloka had begun.

"Ahhhhh!"

Agni screamed, his fiery aura flickering wildly as he was swallowed whole by Narasimha's colossal jaws. The fire god barely had time to react before vanishing into the darkness.

"Help!"

Varuna's desperate cry echoed briefly before he too was pulled into the gaping maw, his watery form swirling into oblivion.

Vayu lowered his head against the relentless pull of the suction. Gale-force winds whipped around him as he summoned all his power to resist. His legs moved in a blur, spinning like a wheel as he sprinted across the celestial plains, desperate to escape the beast's hunger.

Roar!

Narasimha inhaled deeply, the air itself bending to his will. The devouring force surged, and Vayu was dragged backward, his resistance failing. He spun helplessly in midair, a leaf caught in a merciless storm.

Beside him, Soma, the moon god, was swept up as well.

"Father! Help me!"

Soma's voice cracked with terror, his face pale and contorted in fear. He flailed against the rushing wind, his silvery glow dimming as he was pulled closer to Narasimha's gaping maw. He reached out, his fingers trembling, grasping at nothingness.

"Soma!"

Rishi Atri stood rooted in place, his wooden staff clutched tightly in one hand. He stretched his free hand toward his son, his voice raw with anguish.

But it was too late. Soma, his cries swallowed by the howling winds, was dragged into Narasimha's mouth and consumed.

"SOMA!"

A cry of unimaginable grief echoed through the very fabric of the cosmos. Rishi Atri's voice trembled, filled with sorrow. His hand reached desperately into the vast, empty void where his beloved son had vanished, his fingers grasping at the space where once there had been warmth and life. His eyes, wide with despair, flickered with a deep, unfathomable loss.

...

Long ago, Tridevi Saraswati, Lakshmi, and Parvati sat together, discussing devotion and virtue. Each goddess, devoted to her divine husband, believed that no woman could surpass them in chastity and piety. As their conversation deepened, they turned to Narada Muni known for his wisdom and who fared Triloka more than anyone else.

Narada smiled knowingly and said, "Devio, while your devotion is immeasurable, there is one among mortals whose purity and faith shine even above the gods—Anasuya, the wife of Rishi Atri."

Intrigued by Narada's words, the goddesses shared this with their husbands—Brahma, Vishnu, and Shiva. The Trimurti, curious to see the truth for themselves, decided to test Anasuya's devotion. Disguising themselves as wandering sages, they descended to Earth and arrived at her ashram.

Anasuya, known for her boundless kindness and unwavering faith, welcomed the sages with great hospitality, unaware of their true identities. But their request was unusual—one that sought to challenge her virtue.

The three sages told her that as part of their tradition, they could only accept food from her if she served them unclothed. This was a test unlike any other, meant to see if her chastity and dharma would waver under pressure.

Anasuya, calm and devoted as ever, did not falter. She closed her eyes, meditated on her husband, and with her divine purity, transformed the three sages into infant children. Now, as helpless babies, they no longer had any ill intentions. 

When Sage Atri returned home, he instantly recognized the divine presence in his house. Understanding what had happened, he prayed, and the Trimurti regained their original forms. Brahma, Vishnu, and Shiva, now humbled and in awe, praised Anasuya's unshakable devotion and offered her a boon.

The Trinity's blessing came in an unimaginable form. As a reward for Anasuya's steadfast love and devotion, the three gods—Brahma, Vishnu, and Shiva—transformed themselves into infants. Anasuya, with her heart filled with maternal love, nurtured them as her own, offering them the warmth and affection of a mother's embrace for the first time. It was said that this act of pure, selfless love humbled the gods, bringing them closer to the human experience than they had ever been before.

Moved by this unparalleled devotion, the Trimurti bestowed upon the couple a gift beyond compare—children born of their divine power. Each of the three gods imbued a part of themselves into the children that would soon grace the earth.

Soma, the moon god, was born to Anasuya, a reflection of Brahma's divine wisdom and cosmic grace. Dattatreya, a fusion of Vishnu's nurturing compassion and boundless power, was given as a gift to Atri and his wife. Lastly, the fiery Durvasa, known for his temper and immense aesthetic power, was born as a fragment of Shiva's essence.

...

But now, that bond had been shattered. The grief that overwhelmed Atri's heart was a reflection of the tragic reality that even the divine cannot escape fate. His son, Soma had been torn away from him, leaving only an aching emptiness in the space where once there had been life and light. The Rishi's mind raced through the memories of those blissful moments—the days when the gods, humbled by their own experience, had shared their divine power through his beloved children.

"SOMA!!!"

Grief turned to fury. Rishi Atri's chest heaved as he clutched his staff with both hands, his knuckles white with rage. His gaze lifted to Narasimha, and his eyes burned with righteous anger.

"Narasimha!!!"

His voice thundered like a storm, cutting through the chaos. The Rishi's power, honed through centuries of penance, surged to its peak. The air around him crackled as his fury transformed into a binding curse.

"I curse you!" he roared, his voice trembling with divine authority.

"As you have forgotten the balance of the world today, so too shall you forget yourself. One day, your divine nature will fade from your mind, and you will lose the very essence of who you are. You shall wander, lost, in the world you once loved!"

He raised his staff high, the wood glowing with the energy of his resolve. A fiery rope of karmic power burst forth, lashing out at Narasimha with the force of the curse.

The skies trembled, and the celestial realms shuddered as the curse took hold, binding itself to Narasimha with an unbreakable chain of fate.

Rishi Atri's form was flung into the air, pulled helplessly toward Narasimha's gaping, bloodied mouth. Without hesitation, the lion god devoured him whole.

"Raaawwrrrrr!!!"

The roar of Narasimha reverberated through the realms, shaking the very foundation of the heavens. One by one, the Devas and Rishis were swallowed into his massive belly, their fate sealed by the beast's insatiable hunger.

Uh-huh!

Narasimha's scarlet, beastly eyes turned, locking onto Brahma. The sight sent a chill through the creator god, his gaze widening in disbelief. Beside him, Devi Sarasvati's expression faltered, her mouth slightly agape in concern.

"We must leave, quickly!" Brahma urged, his voice steady despite the chaos.

Without another word, Brahma raised his hand, and with a silent prayer, he and Goddess Sarasvati vanished from Brahmaloka, retreating from the horrors unfolding before them.

"Raaawwrrrrr!!!"

Narasimha threw his head back and roared in triumph, his chest thundering as he beat his fists against it in a rhythm that sounded like the beat of a war drum. The sound reverberated across the three worlds, a triumphant declaration of his victory.

The Devas had all been consumed, their struggle futile against his overwhelming might. The question now was:

Who else?

"Nara! Simha!!!"

A familiar roar sliced through the air, interrupting Narasimha's victory cry.

Ouch!

Narasimha recoiled, his neck jerking in surprise. His eyes snapped to the source of the disturbance, and there, in a flash, Sudarshan Chakra whirled toward him, its sparks trailing like a comet's tail.

Before Narasimha could react, the Sudarshan Chakra struck him squarely in the forehead. His beastly eyes widened in shock, and the divine wheel seemed to expand within his gaze, magnifying the pain tenfold. A violent surge of agony coursed through his body as the divine weapon split his forehead, sending sparks flying in all directions.

Roar!!!

Narasimha howled in torment, shaking his head violently to dislodge the assault. His sharp claws lashed out, swiping at the spinning wheel, and with a mighty swipe, he managed to knock the Sudarshan Chakra away.

Clutching his head, Narasimha's fury surged. He shot forward like a streak of light, racing toward the horizon.

"This direction… Kailash!"

Indra's voice rang out, commanding. "Chase!"

The battle was far from over.

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