"Look, they're changing shifts." A suppressed soft voice seeped out from a rocky crevice blocked by rubble. If you peered into the crevice, you would only see several pairs of eyes gleaming under the moonlight, curiously watching the situation outside: "So they'll return underwater to rest after switching shifts, I thought they'd just find a place on the island."
On the island at night, three moons were hanging high in the sky. Mia, of the Life Moon, was now in her full moon phase, the silver light full of vital energy, delicately sprinkling between jagged rocks. The deserted island was silent, no chirping of birds, no beastly roars, only the sound of waves crashing the beach, echoing in the silent night over the island. The controlled Sea Race members interchanged their shifts without uttering a word, one mechanically emerging from the seabed, the other mechanically returning to the sea. Their silence mimicked a group of ghosts, shuddering anyone who witnessed it.
