King of Devas

She was not of this world, but of a realm far beyond, where beauty knew no limit, and no words could ever capture the infinite grace she embodied.

Mohini, the celestial enchantress, was beauty incarnate, her face a flawless masterpiece of divine artistry. Her dark, lustrous hair flowed like a shimmering waterfall, complementing her warm, dusky skin that glowed with an irresistible allure.

Her slender waist curved delicately, and her golden-red gown clung sensuously to her form, swaying gracefully with each step. Despite her enchanting figure, her wide, innocent eyes held a childlike purity, silently pleading for protection—a captivating contrast to her otherworldly allure.

Mohini was not merely an avatar of Vishnu; she was a living paradox—a being who could captivate the heavens and bring even the most steadfast hearts to their knees with a single glance. A divine avatar, the embodiment of beauty and enigma, she was Vishnu's ultimate manifestation of charm and grace, capable of enchanting the cosmos itself.

Gulp!

At that moment, the hundreds of thousands of Asuras charging toward the Amrita abruptly stopped. Their minds went blank as though struck by an enchantment. Frozen in place, they stared unblinkingly at the woman, their throats dry and their breath caught. Many couldn't help but swallow hard, overwhelmed by their desire.

I want her! I need to protect her!

These thoughts burned in the hearts of countless Asuras, consuming them with longing.

"Perfect! The embodiment of Maya's allure, flawless in every way!"

"She is..."

Brahma's four heads turned in unison, all eight of his eyes fixed on the woman. His expression, though serene and composed, betrayed a fleeting glimmer of awe, as if even the Creator himself marveled at this unparalleled manifestation of Vishnu. Even Lord Shiva, known for his unmatched detachment, seemed mesmerized. His gaze lingered, not with desire, but with an intensity that seemed to pierce the veil of her mystery, searching for the divine purpose woven into her ethereal form.

"Out of the three of us, this one does the most outrageous things," Brahma murmured, his tone carrying a blend of bemusement and awe as his many eyes followed her radiant form.

"Jaganmohini!"

"Her name shall be Mohini," Shiva's voice resonated, deep, and filled with a rare reverence that was almost palpable. His intense gaze softened, a flicker of understanding and admiration passing through his eyes. Mohini. The Enchantress.

Just then, a deep, resonant voice echoed softly, as if the fabric of existence itself had spoken. It was Samay, the personification of time, who watched from the endless flow of moments he governed.

"The one who could make even me stand still," he mused, his tone laced with wonder, "just to gaze upon her beauty."

The divine gathering seemed to hold its breath as Samay's words lingered in the air, a tribute to the enchantress whose grace had captured not only the eyes of gods but the attention of Samay itself.

 For a moment, it seemed as though his entire world revolved around this enchanting figure.

The Devas, too, were spellbound. Many stood rooted to their spots, unable to look away, their hearts ignited with an unfamiliar fire.

Indra quickly glanced around, noticing the stunned expressions on the Devas. A realization dawned upon him, and he immediately lowered his gaze.

Could it really be Mohini?

The legendary female incarnation of Vishnu, renowned as the most beautiful being in existence, was said to have even fascinated Shiva, the great ascetic, who could not resist her charm.

Indra lowered his head and took a deep breath, forcing himself to regain composure. He needed to resist the allure.

Hmm? A sudden sensation drew his attention. How is my ascetic power increasing so quickly?

To his astonishment, Indra found his ascetic power rising rapidly, burning like an intense flame within him.

Could it be? Rejecting temptation increases ascetic power?! Indra was slightly stunned.

Swish!

Simhika darted into the Asura army, her movements swift and purposeful. She quickly reached Rahu and Hiranyaksha, clutching the pot of Amrita with joy and triumph.

"Child, I got the Amrita! Let's drink it together!" she exclaimed, her face lighting up with excitement as she offered the precious jar to Rahu.

Bang!

To her shock, Rahu raised his hand—not to take the jar, but to shove her aside. Simhika stumbled backward, barely managing to keep her balance.

"Get out of my way! You're blocking my view!" Rahu snapped, his tone impatient and dismissive, his gaze fixed intensely on something far in the distance.

Simhika frowned, confusion and concern flashing across her face. Something was wrong.

She glanced around and noticed that the Asuras nearby were all frozen, their eyes wide and vacant, as if under a spell. Her heart sank. She quickly turned to her husband, Hiranyaksha, hoping for answers.

"Husband, what's going on?" she asked urgently, moving toward him and grabbing his arm.

But as she reached out to shake him awake, she suddenly felt a firm bump against her waist.

"Huh?"Simhika's gaze dropped, and her eyes widened in shock.

Viprachitti's form seemed rigid, he completely ignored his wife who nearly died.

"Husband!" Simhika cried, now shaking his shoulders frantically.

But Viprachitti didn't respond. He stood utterly still, his gaze locked on the horizon. His throat moved in a slow rhythm as he swallowed, seemingly lost in a trance.

What is happening?

Simhika's mind raced, but her instincts drove her to follow his line of sight. Turning her head, she froze as her eyes fell upon a figure approaching in the distance.

Her thoughts shattered.

So beautiful! So beautiful! So beautiful! The woman walking toward them was beyond comprehension—an embodiment of divine allure. Simhika felt her mind spiral into chaos as she struggled to comprehend the sheer perfection before her.

Her body betrayed her; her hands fell limply to her sides, her knees weakened. Like the other Asuras, she could only stand there, trembling. Her lips parted slightly, and from the corner of her mouth, a single crystal-clear droplet of saliva slid down, hanging in the air as if time itself had slowed.

Simhika, like all the others, was utterly captivated, her rationality unraveling in the presence of this divine beauty.

Mohini approached gracefully, like an enchantress weaving a spell over all who beheld her. She delicately tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, her every movement a blend of innocence and allure.

"May I share this Amrita?" she asked softly, her voice tinged with a pleading sweetness that could melt the hardest of hearts. Her enchanting eyes blinked slowly, radiating a guileless charm.

A faint, intoxicating fragrance surrounded her, reaching Simhika and making her cheeks flush a deep crimson. Simhika gulped, her breath hitching, and managed to croak in a hoarse voice, "Of course! Of course!"

Her eyes glazed over with adoration, Simhika continued, "There is no one as perfect as you in the entire world—not among the Asuras, the Devas, or even the goddesses. Only you are worthy to share this Amrita with us!"

Simhika, intoxicated and overcome, raised her hand and offered the Amrita jar with trembling reverence.

"Thank you!" Mohini said with a gentle bow, her smile radiant as she accepted the jar. Her voice was melodious, like the tinkling of delicate bells.

That smile was enough to cause many Asuras to stagger, their knees weakening as if they had lost the strength to stand.

"Y-Yes…" Simhika stammered, nodding fervently. Her gaze followed Mohini as she ascended gracefully into the air. With her eyes sparkling with admiration, she sighed dreamily, "What a polite and wonderful girl. Even her back is so beautiful!"

"Yes, so beautiful!"

"I've never seen anyone like her before!"

"Such beauty—no king, not even ours, could possess it! If anyone dares to claim her, I shall kill them."

The Asuras murmured among themselves, their awestruck gazes fixed on Mohini as she floated effortlessly above the battlefield on the Milky Sea. Even the Golden-Eyed Vishnu watched in silence, his expression calm but contemplative.

Mohini's radiance carried her to the midst of the Devas, who were similarly spellbound. She approached Indra, the King of Svarga, with poise and elegance, her smile as warm as the spring sun.

"King of Svarga," Mohini said, her voice like the lilting chirp of a songbird, filling the air with a melody that made hearts race. "I am Mohini. Here is the Amrita—for you."

Indra, standing amidst his stunned peers, kept his eyes tightly shut. His body burned as if consumed by an inner fire, her voice igniting something primal within him. A soft but insistent whisper seemed to echo in his mind, urging him to open his eyes.

But he resisted. Indra took a deep, steadying breath and extended his hands. "Thank you," he said firmly, his voice even despite the storm within. "Please place it in my hands."

He stood resolute, his closed eyes shielding him from Mohini's overpowering allure, while his heart thudded heavily in his chest.

There was a brief moment of silence, followed by a sensation like a soft kitten's tail brushing against the skin, causing a flutter in the mind.

Finally, a jar landed gently in Indra's hands.

"King of Svarga! I hope we meet again. Next time, open your eyes and look at me!"

The words came like the melody of a lark, light and sweet.

Indra let out a sigh of relief, his body finally relaxing. Slowly, he opened his eyes. He surveyed the scene around him, seeing the Devas with expressions of disappointment. They looked around frantically as if searching for Mohini.

"She was so beautiful! It almost felt like a dream! Do you remember her name?" Surya murmured in awe.

"I forgot… but her face… her face…" Agni said, shaking his head.

"She was beyond beautiful! Even the most beautiful Apsaras pales in comparison! Not even my wife could rival her!" Soma added, his voice filled with longing.

The Devas continued murmuring among themselves, but Indra paid them no mind. He focused on the surge of energy within him, the power of his penance now undeniably greater.

"My ascetic power has increased by a hundred years!" he thought in shock. "What an incredible boost but what a lethal temptation!"

Indra marveled at the power flowing through him, amazed that it had grown so rapidly—without even a direct exchange with Mohini. It was unbelievable. He sighed deeply, lowering his gaze to the golden pot in his hands.

The Amrita inside shimmered with a crystalline glow as if imbued with endless vitality.

"Amrita…"

"The Amrita of Immortality has finally been acquired!" Indra whispered to himself, feeling a wave of excitement wash over him. He slowly lifted the jar to his lips.

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Jagan – meaning "world" or "universe." Mohini – meaning "the enchantress" or "the one who bewilders."

Samay is a Sanskrit word that means "time" or "moment."

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