The melodious flute never ceased.
Krishna lowered his eyes, immersed in the unfolding wonders of heaven and earth.
Amid splendid clouds, countless petals, and radiant light, a figure like a phantom emerged within the rosy glow at the end of the sky.
Like a mirage.
It was clearly reflected in their eyes, yet no one knew where it truly was.
Or rather, it was everywhere.
At that moment, as the domain of Creation Theory: Bhagavad Gita unfolded and covered the Land of Nothingness, it shook all phenomena from their very roots.
The ancient storyteller, mentor of heroes, recorder of great deeds, and creator of legends displayed his power once more—now, it was as though hundreds and thousands of mouths were recounting the events that transpired, hundreds and thousands of hands were meticulously depicting every instant, hundreds and thousands of viewpoints and stances were harshly analyzing every change, and hundreds and thousands of utterly different perspectives were observing the world before them.
—and turning the world into the form they saw!
Thus, beneath Krishna's narration, observation, and appreciation, kaleidoscopic and magnificent transformations emerged from this hell.
The burning flames were so dazzling, like the vigorous posture of Shiva's dance. The splashed blood was so vivid, like the essence flowing from an Asura's neck.
Scenes from the ancient war between gods and demons appeared one after another, only to vanish in an instant and transform into something else.
The strong clashed with one another, sometimes treading upon raging waves, sometimes standing atop towering peaks...
It was as though someone held an invisible camera, freely adding expressions of personal style and brand-new special effects to this retelling.
Amid brutal slaughter, the long streets became bleak, hard black-and-white scenery. Stripe-like visual artifacts flickered through the air, and subtitles appeared in the air for every