When Indra heard this, he tilted his head, momentarily stunned.
Wait... what?
Did he hear that right? Vishnu wanted him to chase after Hayagriva? The very same Asura who had stolen the Vedas and plunged the cosmos into darkness?
Wasn't this... just a little absurd?
"Naryana!" Indra clasped his hands, his voice a mixture of reverence and sheer disbelief. "Even in battle, I relied on divine boons to stand against him! Now you ask me to pursue him? Even if I catch up, how am I supposed to defeat him?"
Indra scowled. His celestial armour rendered him immune to weapons, his arms could shatter steel and celestial blades alike, a deva of thunder and war, a weapon destroyer in his own right.
But even a cornered rabbit would bite.
If he pushed Hayagriva too far, the Asura might panic. And now, with the wisdom of the Vedas in his grasp, who knew what he was capable of? Perhaps he could strike Indra down with mere words, truth so absolute it unravelled his existence.
Oh! Right, he had the Amrita. He could not be slain.
But just because he couldn't die didn't mean he wanted to be pummeled into the ground. Immortality had its drawbacks, namely, the very real possibility of becoming a divine punching bag.
And who in their right mind would sign up for that? That was a job for Asura King!
"Do not be afraid."
Vishnu's voice was calm, absolute, a still ocean that could drown all doubt.
"The Vedas are wisdom itself," he said. "They contain your hymns. As long as you recite them, their divine radiance will guide you through the darkness, illuminating your path."
"The Vedas are truth, they will not protect a adharmi like Hayagriva."
Vishnu's tone softened, yet his authority did not wane.
And then.
A golden light shimmered from his form.
FWOOOSH!
The glow unfurled like the first light of creation, chasing away the surrounding shadows. It was the dawn of a new age, radiant and overwhelming, flooding the battlefield with its divine brilliance.
A single ray descended and wrapped itself around Indra.
As the golden radiance merged with his skin, he felt it, a presence, another armour. It was not mere light. It intertwined with his very being, a celestial shield that moulded itself to his form like a second skin.
Warmth. Strength. Resilience.
"This is my Kavacha," Vishnu declared.
"It will shield you from the strike meant to destroy you. It will protect your mind from illusion and preserve your strength through this darkness. But it will only protect you once. When that moment has passed, it will vanish."
Vishnu's gaze bore into him, unwavering.
"Go, Indra. Defeat Hayagriva and reclaim the Vedas."
His words were not a suggestion. They were a divine decree.
Indra exhaled sharply. His fingers clenched into fists. There was no turning back now.
Indra's eyes widened as he lowered his gaze, staring at the golden light encasing his form.
Vishnu's armour…
This was no mere blessing. Even if it could withstand only a single blow, it was still a divine safeguard beyond mortal comprehension. A force that could halt even the destruction of pralaya itself.
A one-time invincible biff!
Indra's lips curled into a grin.
"This is good!"
For a fleeting moment, a wild thought flickered through his mind.
If I were an Asura… wouldn't I be able to challenge even the Trimurti?
His eyes gleamed with mischief.
Right now, he bore a boon that made him impervious to harm from Vishnu and his incarnations. He wielded the power to shatter weapons with his bare hands. His Sahasrakavacha absorbed toxins and rendered him immune to blades.
And now, with Vishnu's divine armour, he was untouchable, except by Shiva.
For just an instant, he entertained the notion of going rogue, of testing his strength against the very gods who ruled the cosmos.
If only this armour weren't a one-time use…
Indra sighed, shaking off the fantasy.
Then, like a whisper in the vast corridors of time, a memory surfaced: Ravana.
That mighty king, once invincible, had stood with the power of boons far greater than this. He had laughed in the face of death, believing himself beyond its reach. Yet, in the end, it was not a weapon nor a warrior that sealed his fate.
It was his pride, his certainty in his invulnerability, that led him before death's door.
Indra's fingers tightened. His golden armour gleamed, but the weight of that lesson pressed heavier upon him.
"The boons that grant invincibility also sow the seeds of downfall. Boons give power, power breeds arrogance, and arrogance brings ruin swifter than any curse.
A smirk tugged at his lips, but it no longer held the reckless arrogance of before. Instead, it was tempered and wiser.
Deep within, something unfamiliar stirred. It was gratitude.
Pressing his hands together, he bowed in reverence. His expression grew solemn as he met Vishnu's gaze. When he spoke, his voice rang out, filled with duty and divine purpose.
"Dhanyavad Lord Vishnu!"
His words carried the weight of righteousness.
"Hayagriva, that wretched Asura, defied the cosmic order! He stole the sacred Vedas, shrouding the universe in darkness and chaos!"
"For such a crime, there is no forgiveness."
Indra's eyes burned with conviction.
"As Indra, King of Svarga and son of Aditi, I take this vow upon the very winds that carry the Vedas. I shall reclaim what was stolen. I shall restore Dharma to its eternal throne. Let my thunder strike down the veil of illusion and bring light where there is none."
He brought his palms together, then touched them to his brow, heart, and crown.
Then, without hesitation, he turned and strode toward the gathered Devas.
Next, he needed a mount. The steed that could help him catch up to Hayagriva.
As Indra vanished into the distance, Vishnu's gaze lingered.
His eyes fell upon the twin demons, Madhu and Kaitabha.
His expression hardened. The ever-present serenity vanished from his face.
A shadow fell over him. The radiant, lotus-like glow of his visage dimmed, sinking into an abyss of wrath and sorrow. The very air trembled under the weight of his silence.
In his hands, Kaumodaki, his Divine Mace, began to rise.
A single pulse of its energy split the darkness, flooding the void with blinding light.
When he spoke, his voice rumbled like the endless depths of the cosmic ocean.
"Madhu and Kaitambha."
"I have come to end you."
…
In the darkness, the skies trembled.
Indra scoured the starry void, searching for the scattered Devas. The theft of the Vedas had thrown the cosmos into disarray, Dharma itself wavered, and the celestial order threatened to collapse. The sacred hymns that upheld the universe were gone, and with them, the very essence of divine power.
The stars had dimmed, their brilliance obscured, as if the firmament itself had lost its guiding light. The cosmic silence was unnatural, an absence that gnawed at existence itself.
Then, at last, he saw him.
Vayu, the Wind God, drifted in the void. His form, usually swift and untethered, now hung motionless. His eyes, clouded and distant, stared blankly as though he were lost in the unending abyss.
A wave of unease coursed through Indra. He descended swiftly, coming to a halt before his companion.
"Vayu!" he called, his voice a sharp command.
No response.
Indra reached out, grasping Vayu's shoulder, and gave him a firm shake. When that did nothing, he struck him lightly across the face, a crisp snap echoing through the void.
Still, Vayu remained listless, his limbs limp, his very essence dulled.
Then, at last, a whisper—thin as the breath of a dying flame—escaped his lips.
"…In…dra…"
Indra's eyes narrowed.
Even the Lord of the Winds… affected like this?
He clenched his jaw. It was the Vedas. Their loss had not only stolen wisdom but had weakened the very forces that sustained existence. Even Vayu, whose breath moved the heavens, was faltering.
"By the armour of Vishnu, I am shielded… but the others…"
A cold realisation dawned.
If Vayu, the swiftest among them, was caught in this unnatural stillness, then the others would soon succumb to slumber. And once that happened, the balance of the three worlds would collapse entirely.
There was no time.
Indra released Vayu and turned away, his form igniting with divine radiance as he surged forward.
If Vayu is here, then Surya must be close. And if Surya is near, so must be his steed.
Through the swirling void, Indra moved, his presence a streak of golden light against the eternal night.
Then, he saw it.
A celestial horse, white as the morning sun, motionless in the abyss.
Uchchaihshravas.
The king of horses, born of the churning ocean, now frozen like lifeless stone.
Indra descended swiftly, landing astride the divine beast. The armour of Vishnu flared, its radiance seeping into the stallion's form, infusing it with life once more.
A sharp, resounding neigh tore through the void as Uchchaihshravas reared its head, its mane flowing like a river of light.
Indra tightened his grip on the reins.
"The Vedas must be reclaimed," he murmured, his resolve firm.
Then, Vishnu's words echoed in his mind.
The hymns are written within the Vedas. Sing them, and their light will shine, guiding the way.
Indra hesitated. A fleeting grimace crossed his face.
Singing? Now?
He glanced around, reassured by the emptiness of the void. Then, clearing his throat, he steeled himself.
No matter. This was the duty of the King of the Devas.
Lifting his voice, he began to chant.
"O Lord of the Winds! O swiftest among the swift! May thy breath awaken the still air and guide the righteous upon their path!"
His voice echoed, rippling through the abyss.
Then—
A flicker.
A distant glow shimmered in the darkness, faint but unmistakable.
Indra's gaze sharpened.
He tugged the reins, and with a mighty gallop, Uchchaihshravas surged forward.
The hunt for the stolen Vedas had begun.
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