Han Sen pursued the lobster, which had reached a depth of over one thousand meters. The blue light of the peacock continued to grow dimmer and dimmer, a sure sign that it was dying.
Its wings had been broken by the lobster's pincers. Blood seeped into the ocean from the torn flesh, coloring the area in a red haze.
Han Sen could only see the peacock when its blue lights flickered.
The peacock's face was rotten. Its flesh had been stripped and melted away, which exposed parts of its skull.
All across its body, its once-pleasant mane of graceful feathers had been shredded to tatters. Its train in the back had been mangled by the cruel ferocity of the lobster. The peacock that had looked fine and proud back on the island was now uglier than a skinned chicken.
