An Eye is on you. Death knells thrice, a cadence of cries, screams of the dying rising and pouring forth, echoing from the bones and rotting ligaments and tendons of the corpse that was the Mojo South Casino, and then... Nothing, but the Eye. The familiar note played out across the universe from time immemorial, always the first and never the last, eternally telling the same old tale like some Faustian pact played out on repeat, doomed to fail from inception and destined to begin anew with each passing of the sun into the void that came after, the note that the predators and creeping, crawling, clawing things of the moon time world share freely between themselves while simultaneously, secretively, selfishly hording it away from one another, guarding the very notion with the lies they make in the light and the lives they take in the dark. The note that says, “I see you,”. Both the most gratifyingly invigorating, and most chillingly terrifying note a hunter in the night can ever hear, the only difference causing the response rendered to the specific individual, and there can only ever be one response, being who happens to be the watcher, and who happens to be the watched. 

Noxx hadn’t come here looking for a fight, wasn’t prepared for one either. A good hunter is always prepared, doubly so if they are hunting another predator, and this hairless ape had sliced three of his fellows to bits with razor wire just for the hell of doing it, and maybe to make cleaning up after himself a bit more time efficient, he certainly wouldn’t be going down without putting up a fight for his miserable little existence. Had there been even a few more moments before the human noticed that he was being watched, the Zetan would have ended his life with a push of a button on the side of a blaster and simply thrown what was left of him in with the rest of the garbage before moving on to the next abandoned place. Now they were both standing here like total amateurs, neither with a weapon in hand, Noxx looking at the human and the human keenly aware of it, his pausing in the midst of action having given everything away, that ancient, primal sense of being hunted in the dark by something just as dangerous as the Earthling was dinging like a bell in his lizard brain, and the Zetan knew it. 

The lurking moon time terror did not slink out from the shadows, didn’t move or even make a sound beyond slow, steady, speechless breath. If Noxx drew a blaster now and the human turned, drew his own firearm and, presumably he was carrying a firearm because if he wasn’t none of this mattered and was entirely a waste of time considering, and fired the Zetan would come out the victor every time. The human had no idea exactly where this perceived threat was coming from, though he seemed to have a general idea of the doors Noxx happened to be standing just to the side of, and couldn’t possibly know that his threat was a superior lifeform that was carrying technology that would stop the projectiles fired from the ballistic weapons humans seem so fond of in mid-flight while the Zetan returned fire with concentrated bursts of gamma radiation hurling toward the human that, unbeknownst to him was capable of going through most anything a human could possibly happen to be using as armor. The human presumably knew enough to know that he would have to move against an opponent who knew where he was and was potentially aiming on him now, however, and would instead fire while scrambling to cover, leaving too much to chance. Slowly --, dreadfully, drudgingly, damningly slowly, Noxx reached for the blaster and watched, prepared to quickly get to cover if necessary.