The tide washes in. The tide washes out. 

I was there when the two-legged ones were born. I will survive long after they fade away. They knew me once. I shared their curiosity and desire to find a home. They called me Tihtipihin and Carcinus. They would tell stories of my warriors, but of course, they let Heracles win. 

The ones that knew Odin were right to call us Kraken. My warriors patrol the deep, still on guard to keep my realm from the two-legs. The darkest trenches and the deepest undersea cliffs harbor my children. 

Fools want to meet mermaids. Warriors know that to fight my kind is to be quickly seized and crushed. We tolerate no visitation. Join us or die. We will not be harvested. 

I have watched the two-legged ones spread and kill their gods. They drove away the dryads, tamed the satyrs, and destroyed Pan. 

I accept worshippers reluctantly. Your kind arrive lonely and angry. I judge you. I give the vicious ones delicious flesh and put them where the fishers will find them. The kinder souls begin a long journey. With a gesture, I transform them from sandy-haired leftovers into ten-limbed wanderers. They will carry their homes, studying and learning a new way until our moment comes. Some will fall on their quest, but the few true warriors will grow and grow until I take them to the depths. 

You have found me. Make your choice.