Since time beyond reckoning you battled the people beyond the Rift, fighting them to try and stop the environmental devastation of your home, to stop the constant seeping of plastic and heavy metals that somehow traveled across when saltwater couldn't. To stop the poisoning of your lands, to stop the deaths of the plants and small ones. Young though you were among the Kaiju you fought too, battling against tiny but prickly pink things and hot exploding metal things and average-sized metal enemies. You battled for the survival of your home with all the strength that made you the dominant people and you wreaked untold devastation upon their spires.
How?
[ ] You can expel superheated plasma with your breath
[ ] You can shoot lasers from your eyes
[ ] You can extend needle-like projections with unerring accuracy
[ ] You are a consummate creature of the sea and can manipulate water
[ ] You're just really, really strong and tough, even for a kaiju
[ ] Other! (What's your kaiju power?)
Your visage struck fear into the hearts of pink things and they would scatter at your approach!
What is that visage?
[ ] Very traditional, you have a tough hide, powerful jaws and a long reptilian tail
[ ] Feelers and giant, soft moth wings, but don't mistake you for soft, you are fierce!
[ ] Great leathery wings and powerful claws
[ ] A heavy, impenetrable shell on your back and a strong snapping beak
[ ] Lots of hair, like a giant version of a Human's evolutionary ancestor
[ ] Feathers and talons and a sharp beak
[ ] Other! (What do you look like? Bear in mind that your Size Limiter will let you pass for mostly-human if you so desire.)
Then, somehow, impossibly, someone tried talking. Your people learned that the metal things turned out to be the creations of the pink things, and they could make more. They learned why you fought; what they were doing to your world. Under the watchful gaze of your people the pink things traversed the rift, created more metal things that sucked in and consumed the plastics and heavy metals. They undid the damage and saved your world.
Lifetimes of conflict and your salvation was given by the very enemies who had doomed you. Your King deemed this an acceptable end to the conflict, suspicious though the new metal things were.
Then the pink things, the Humans, tried to teach you how the metal things worked. How to keep them working. They made the gears and levers and filters very large, for their size, or exactly right, for yours. It was a long process, which you, being young, watched a great deal of.
It intrigued you. Not only the machines, which were fascinating in their own way now that you could observe them without danger, but their way of learning from each other, of resolving difficulties when they arose, and their way of teaching something that your people needed to learn very badly even when it was frustrating. Even when it was infuriating.
It stuck with you when you went home, the war over, and tried to figure out what to do with yourself. The life you had led before just didn't seem exciting any more.
You decided. You would traverse the rift, and you would become like those people who ended the war. Building machines was a little beyond you right now, but figuring out how Humans thought, how they learned, that was a good first step! And once you had learned, you would figure out how to teach others. You asked everything you could of your fellows and of the Humans that hadn't left. You learned many new words for many new things and many new words for many old things, but it only left you with an appetite for more.
Your presence on the other side was not exactly welcome. Ships and helicopters (for you knew the words for these now) buzzed around you like insects as your form cast a shadow across a human City. A Human in an average-sized metal thing (it was called a Mecha, as it turned out) shouted at you, their small voice amplified by their Mecha until it was actually something you didn't have to try hard to hear.
"Why are you here? What do you want?"
You know them. You fought them. They are...
[ ] A suave, genteel negotiator and consummate professional
[ ] A young Human...
-[ ] Who never wanted to fight.
-[ ] Who absolutely wanted to fight
-[ ] Who never knew anything but fighting existed
[ ] A pair of Humans so thoroughly synchronized they're like one person
[ ] One of a group of five such pilots. Where are the rest of them?
[ ] A crude Human who cobbled their Mecha together. Very unpredictable and dangerous!
[ ] Other (Who is your first Human contact?)
But they - the "pilot" certainly but also all humans - are unprepared for your reply. Your proclamation roars over an entire City, battering helicopters backward and swamping beaches with the sheer force of its enthusiasm (or maybe that's just its volume and air pressure).
"I want to be a teacher!"