Then once by men and
angels to be seen,
In roaring he shall rise and on the surface die.
It had been an undignified struggle rather than an epic battle; a melee in which Xander was almost positive the hand wielding the sword that came so close to stabbing his foot belonged to him, but it was hard to say because at that point he was playing Twister with a dozen tentacles and they were winning.
But the scrambled eggs miraculously got put back in their shells and the graveyard quieted as they stared down at the Kraken some fool had resurrected far from its watery home.
“Ice cream,” Xander said eventually. “Lots of it. All in favour, say...”
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