Indra's calculations

Not an immortal being, that's not what they were afraid of. The immortals feared mortality.

For immortals, they seemed to fear death and disease a lot. As if they were unsure about their own immortality. They locked themselves in their realm, safe from any danger, anything that could cause them bodily harm. The wise mortals, those who were learned in the various arts and aware of the situation going in the Swarga, were flummoxed. They saw immortality as a curse, for if you didn't fear death, you didn't grow. They saw death as a push towards prosperity and growth. The immortals were stuck in this strange limbo. They feared mortality enough to turn into a race of hypochondriacs, but not sufficiently so to desire growth. They had the time, an unlimited amount of it, growth and progress would come eventually. That was how they had gotten this far. It was just not worth dying for.

The immortals closed their realms in fear of death. There were a few brave ones, powerful and commanding, those who ruled over realms of lesser mortals who stood out. Chandradev was one of them. He was the courtier of Indra, the biggest most fearful hypocondriac of them all, and yet he roamed around the realms quite freely. He even made time to meet commoners of his own realm, he visited the Earthly realm every so often. He had contacts with the demonic races, he was friends with a few of them, that was common knowledge in the court. His actions were tolerated because Chandra dev was one of the most beloved of the deux. He got more affection than ever since the rest of the Swarga had blocked itself from the entire cosmos. Indra had serious qualms, but he wasn't keen on a rebellion.

A matter of greater concern to him was the fact that while the swarga-dwellers hid themselves from everyone, the demons had ingratiated themselves with the humans in their absence. Not only had the humans re-shaped themselves into the culture of the demons, they were also gradually replacing the pantheon of the Deux. They went by  un-demonic names, names to confuse the mortals into believing they were Deux, that's how the innocent humans had been fooled into accepting false deities.

A total destruction of their entire kind, all the races. A final blow, to forever limit them, never to be seen from again. That's what Indra wanted. A war to end the demonic threat on the Swarga forever. He could not garner the interest. Swarga had always successfully repelled the attacks, and the Deux had always retained control. Now the demons were as weak as ever, they hadn't laid a claim to the heavenly realm in eons. They were minor nuisance, their influence on humans could never be powerful enough. No need to waste resources on crushing an ant. It was true the offerings had gone down and the source of power of the gods was diminished, but what did it matter, Swarga had no other contenders, it was invincible, and its inhabitants immortal.

Indra was dissatisfied. The court had grown too used the the wealth and the riches, they had grown lazy. They were unable to fight. There had not been a real threat against the Swarga in a very long time. When the realm was at war, when there were enemies to be slain, battles hymns to be sung, masterful tactics to be deployed, Indra was at the top of his game. The day-to-day administration was boring. It was difficult to keep yourself sharp in times like these.

Indra's anger was less at the Demons themselves and more at those within the Swarga. They were raising questions about his suitability as the King of Deux and the ruler of Swarga. There were better rulers than him, and he had made enemies inside his own realm. He couldn't agree to everything everyone wanted, after all. So they searched for and found reasons to be dissatisfied at. The reasons were getting ridiculous. He was a warrior. He need not be bothered with minor issues like these.

The matter with Apsaras and the Gandharvas, for example. They wanted a non-entertainment role in the court. Were getting quite vocal about it too. He explained to them, it was the cosmic order. Just as he didn't try to steal their jobs, their predestined honor of entertaining and enriching the universe, it was not fit for them to concern themselves with matters of menial administration. Dancing and singing were fun, paperwork and day-to-day organizing was not. Would you want to, he explained to them on a particularly cold day in the court, bother yourself with the types and quality of the cloud here in our realm. Do you want to hurt yourselves by considering all the options for the color and the texture and slipperiness of it. Everyone wants their own favorite cloud -- the dancers want something unslippery, some want something cool, some want fluffy. And then the heavenly Imps will complain about everything, about how this can be done and how that cant be done.And everyone had a reason to be angry at you. You were never liked, you always had to make compromises with everyone.

That was surely not what they wanted, they who were universally liked and respected. Had they not impressed the Destroyer himself, a great dancer himself, with their craft? Did their songs not modify the fundamental laws of the universe, did they not give birth to new universes and beings? Were they not the most powerful beings, more powerful than the quarternity themselves? These arguments had fallen on deaf ears. They wanted a say, a seat in the court, a chance to do things that were not dancing and singing and merrymaking.

At a point Indra had even alluded to the possibility that doing such a thing would rob them of the special privileges -- he coughed at that -- they enjoyed in the heavens. They would be treated with the save respect given to other administrative bores, they would lose the respect admiration and adoration they were used to. They'd be spit upon even, for they'd undoubtedly have to make unfavorable decisions, hated and disliked. Were they prepared for that?

It was not a privilege, Indra explained to them, to be running the Swarga, it was a burden he had agreed to shoulder because that was his duty. If he had the option, he said, he'd happily trade places with any one of them. They were unconvinced. Bring on the hate, dislike, and spitting. We want to suffer the way we do.

We don't want our King to suffer, and if he suffers, we do too, they said.

It was getting out of hand.