King of Devas

Kailash

In a sacred and tranquil realm, the skies stretched endlessly, the clouds as pristine as snow, and the sky mirrored the azure depths of the sea.

Suspended in this celestial expanse stood Mount Kailash, its snowy peaks reaching toward infinity. Vast and eternal, it was the sanctum of ascetics and the abode of the Mahatmas. Here, countless Rishis and seekers followed the path of self-realization, Brahman, and enlightenment, their lives dedicated to ascetic devotion.

Suddenly, a deafening roar shattered the serene atmosphere.

"Raaawwrrrrr!!!"

The thunderous cry of a lion reverberated through the heavens, drawing every eye and heart toward its source.

Rishi Dadhichi emerged from the meditative forest, his tranquil expression giving way to urgency. Clad in a simple orange robe with his chest bare, his determined eyes locked on the approaching figure of Narasimha. The beast tore through the skies, his mane wild, his mouth drooling, and his presence radiating an insatiable hunger for destruction.

"Something is terribly wrong!" Dadhichi exclaimed, his voice steady but filled with dread. He turned to his fellow ascetics. "Go! Inform the ganas at once!"

But before the warning could be delivered to Shiva Ganas, Narasimha landed at the base of Mount Kailash. His colossal form loomed, his feral eyes scanning the holy grounds. He could sense a powerful force—a divine energy—emanating from within. Bloodlust coursed through him, his thoughts consumed by a singular purpose: devour and destroy.

"Raaawwrrrrr!!!"

The beast roared again, advancing with heavy, deliberate steps. His movement ceased abruptly as he glanced down, noticing an ant-sized figure blocking his path.

There stood Rishi Dadhichi, his staff in hand, resolute and unyielding despite the towering menace before him.

Narasimha let out a guttural growl, his leonine eyes blazing with unrestrained wrath. Without a second thought, he raised his massive foot and delivered a brutal kick. The impact sent Dadhichi hurtling through the air, his cry of pain echoing across the sacred mountain.

The sage's body hit the ground with a sickening thud, lifeless but not broken in spirit. Even as his breaths faltered, his lips moved in silent prayer, calling upon the Lord of Kailash.

"O Mahadeva," Dadhichi whispered, his voice barely audible over the howling winds.

The earth quaked beneath the lion's ferocity but then came a sound—a resonating, primal vibration.

At the summit of Mount Kailash, Shiva opened his eyes. His crimson eyes blazed with fury, his grip tightening on the Trishula. The divine weapon trembled in his grasp, and the mountain itself reverberated with his wrath. Each strike of his trident sent waves of destruction cascading across the trilogy.

The rhythm carried by the furious vibrations rippled through the Tri Loka, unleashing chaos. Oceans surged into violent storms, the earth split into gaping chasms, and volcanoes erupted with unrelenting ferocity. Even the distant planets in the cosmic expanse succumbed to Shiva's rage, shattering into fiery fragments.

The cosmos bore witness to an unparalleled truth: Shiva was enraged.

Rishi Dadhichi, a devoted follower of Lord Shiva, had spent countless years in ascetic practice on Mount Kailash, the sacred abode of his lord. His unwavering devotion was legendary, but even his piety was not enough to shield him from the fury of Narasimha, who had descended upon Kailash with violent intent.

The sage was struck down by the enraged Narasimha, his defeat echoing like a thunderclap across the holy mountain. This act of sacrilege awakened Shiva's wrath.

Shiva's crimson eyes blazed with fury, his Trishula trembling in his right hand, sending resonant vibrations through Kailash. The mountain itself seemed to hum with the rhythm of his anger.

Without a word, Shiva reached behind his head with his left hand, pulling a single strand of jet-black hair. With deliberate force, he hurled it to the ground.

"Ha!"

The strand shimmered as it fell, radiating the destructive divinity of Shiva. Upon touching the earth, it transformed into a towering blue giant wreathed in golden light. His wild hair and beard framed a visage of primal ferocity, and a garland of human skulls adorned his neck.

Bhairava.

This was Shiva's incarnation of pure wrath, a form that had once obliterated Prajapati Daksha and now sought to quell the chaos unleashed by Narasimha. Bhairava charged forward, clashing with the half-lion, half-man avatar in a cataclysmic battle.

Explosions tore through the heavens as their struggle shook the Tri Loka, drawing the attention of the divine. Goddess Lakshmi and Parvati appeared, their watchful eyes fixed on the clash of these mighty forces.

Moments later, Brahma and Saraswati arrived, their forms glowing with divine radiance as they stood near Shiva.

"Mahadev," Saraswati began, her voice steady yet urgent, "Narasimha's fury remains unchecked. With every act of destruction, his strength only multiplies. If this continues, and should Bhairava confront him without restraint, the universe itself may face annihilation. Lord Vishnu would not wish for such devastation. Neither a single Deva nor an avatar alone can pacify Narasimha. Only the union of man, beast, and bird may succeed in restoring balance."

Shiva listened in silence, his anger smoldering beneath his calm exterior. Slowly, he raised his hand once more. Another strand of hair was pulled and thrown to the earth.

From this Jatta emerged Sharabheshvara, a formidable incarnation. With the head of a lion atop a human body, four muscular arms, a lion's torso and limbs, and immense bird-like wings that shimmered with divine light, he embodied the fusion of man, beast, and bird.

Bhairava stepped back, bowing respectfully to Sharabheshvara, and vanished from the battlefield, leaving the path clear.

Sharabheshvara spread his wings wide, the golden light of Shiva's essence emanating from his form. With a single powerful flap, he crossed the vast space between himself and Narasimha in an instant. His claws struck with divine precision, pinning Narasimha to the ground.

"Raaawwrrrrr!!!" Narasimha's roar echoed through the Kailash, a sound so powerful that it shook the very foundations of the Tri Loka. The planets trembled, and rivers of molten lava erupted from the cracks in the earth.

Despite the chaos, the Sharabheshvara opened its massive mouth, its fangs gleaming with an otherworldly ferocity. It roared in response, not backing down in the slightest.

A golden light flared behind it, and the figure of Mahadeva, Lord Shiva himself, materialized in the radiance, his presence meant to awaken Narasimha from his bloodlust. But—

"Rawwrrrrr!!!" Narasimha's roar only grew louder, his heart brimming with bloodlust and rage, drowning out all attempts at reason.

"Even if the sky was falling down it cannot wake Vishnu," Brahma muttered, his voice tinged with despair.

"Nath, this is not good!" Sarasvati's voice was filled with concern, her brows furrowing as she observed the growing destruction. Her eyes met Brahma's, worry etching her beautiful features. "If this continues, Narasimha and Sharabheshvara attacks will only grow stronger. Is the world truly going to be destroyed?"

Brahma blinked, his thoughts momentarily distracted by the weight of her words. The possibility of the world's end struck him with an odd sense of panic. If the world is destroyed... will I be forced to create it all over again? Only to watch it crumble again? He shuddered at the thought. No! I can't let that happen!

Shiva stood silent, his brow furrowed in deep concentration, the air around him heavy with his brooding thoughts. Beside him, Parvati was even more bewildered. My brother and my husband... at odds, fighting to the brink of destroying the universe. What can I do now?

Meanwhile, in the vast sea of milk, Goddess Lakshmi watched from afar, her face etched with concern. Her hands were clasped tightly in prayer, her heart reaching out to her husband in the hopes that he would regain control.

"Hari, you must wake up!" Lakshmi whispered urgently, her prayer a silent plea to the heavens.

At that moment, Indra finally arrived on the battlefield. He took one look at the terrifying destruction wreaked by the battle between Narasimha and Sharabheshvara, and his steps faltered. Narasimha had grown stronger, and the sheer force of his presence was overwhelming. Indra, powerful as he was, hesitated to approach the battlefield.

The power of Narasimha could not harm him—no, the true danger lay in the aftermath of Sharabheshvara's attacks. It would be far too humiliating to be knocked down by the aftershocks of another one of those earth-shattering blows.

Indra stood at a distance, watching. But as he did, he realized that the Narasimha had noticed him too.

"Roar!!!" The Narasimha let out a ferocious bellow, like a cornered beast, and in a flash, turned and fled from the Sharabheshvara's grasp.

The Sharabheshvara, ever swift, seized the opportunity to lunge forward. With a powerful motion, it gripped Narasimha's arms, twisted them behind his back, and bound them tightly in a vice-like hold.

Shiva, his eyes narrowed with sharp focus, spoke through the chaos. "Indra, Narasimha cannot harm you. My Sharabheshvara incarnation cannot hold him for much longer. Go now and try to awaken him."

Indra stood frozen, his mouth slightly agape. He glanced from the towering peaks of Kailash to the writhing Narasimha, a look of disbelief crossing his features. He was willing to join the battle, to help subdue the beast, but how was he supposed to know how to awaken Vishnu's presence within Narasimha?

"Awaken him?" Indra questioned, a trace of uncertainty in his voice.

"Go," Shiva's voice urged, firm but laced with urgency. "My avatar cannot do it now. It is up to you."

Indra hesitated but then nodded. He gazed at the furious Narasimha, who was thrashing violently, and slowly began to step forward. The eyes of Shiva, Brahma, Sarasvati, and the devas watched him intently, their gazes heavy with expectation, concern, and silent hope.

As Indra walked toward Narasimha, the roars grew louder, each one more destructive than the last, reverberating across the battlefield like a storm of fury. The very air seemed to vibrate with the force of Narasimha's anger. If they weren't on Kailash, it was likely that the entire mountain range would have erupted in response.

Indra paused, surveying the beast, his gaze sharp and calculating. He moved his eyes from side to side, sensing something, something that was hidden beneath the surface of Narasimha's rage. Then, in a moment of understanding, a smile tugged at the corners of his lips.

"Did you forget me so soon?" Indra asked, his voice steady, his confidence slowly rising.

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