“Oh fuck,” it was one thing to face a grenade opposite a row of slot machines from your position, even humans have survived some pretty crazy shit due to a lucky angle and a bit of cover, but one right next to you as well as another forming a concussive box of high velocity death dealing blast force? The shrapnel could be stopped without issue, hell, a big ass wildly screaming tank shell could be stopped in mid-air no problem at all with the kind of technology even Zetan civilians carried planet-side, but the inertia suppression field worked specifically against matter, and had little to no effect against energy, to include energy thrown about by high powered explosives at close range. Force field or not that would effectively liquefy the organs and tissues of anything biological. The Zetan could even pick up a grenade and use the suppression field to cause it simply not to explode, literally freezing the fast acting chemical compounds contained within the little spherical death balls in place before they managed to achieve combustion so long as it was done quickly enough, but not both grenades, not at once, not at these distances and with only a second to move. 

Only one way to go, and that was up. Leaping into the air as fast as biology and desperation could carry the Zetan, Noxx instead of trying to use the suppression field to block shrapnel decided rather to cheat gravity, going up, and up, and up, seemingly weightless and if only for a moment flying toward the roof like Superman or some comic book shit without apparent rhyme or reason. The blast quite literally took the air, and all sounds carried across it, out of the room. The crumbling floor around the epicenter of the twin explosions collapsed, already structurally questionable and made to spider-web by the simultaneous blasts and rendered no longer capable of supporting the weight of the literal tons of slot machines standing atop it, all of which along with blocks and slabs of the shoddy concrete the owner had no doubt paid some city official off to get away with using during construction falling into some lobby on the first floor. Sirens would no doubt start up soon, gunshots downtown rarely drew much police attention in Vegas, but explosions in the Mojo would be heard for blocks and no doubt would scare the shit out of anyone who heard them, and for good reason. Unlike gunshots, they were too loud to be mistaken for anything but exactly what they are. 

Unless the human was wearing some ear protection neither he nor the alien would hear them, of course, wouldn’t hear anything at all for a while beyond the whining drone of burst ear drums and seriously rocked jaws and inner ear bones. What complete asshole throws grenades in a twenty or thirty some foot radius to himself? This ain’t a fuckin’ video game, those things seriously fuck everything up, hasn’t this hairless ape seen Mythbusters? Noxx was pretty sure that this was the last chance to go for the human, couldn’t be certain but neither leg had much feeling in them and one or both were probably missing feet at least, lower leg bones crumpled and the tissue surrounding them mostly liquefied, gooey and unresponsive, might have a second or two left before the Zetan’s blood pressure hit the floor and shock set in along with unconsciousness. Peering down Noxx spotted the light in the void and, with the last bits of consciousness started firing down as accurately as one could while fighting to remain awake and floating upward through the air. “Pttsss-unk, Pttsss-unk, Pttsss-unk,” the Zetan blaster sounded wet, sticky, sizzling, and somewhat like one of those old fashioned pneumatic mail chutes they used to use at banks and post offices, except if the little capsules were being launched at someone’s ribs while they were simultaneously being fried on a skillet, blasts of comically green radiation flying in as tight a circle around the human’s expected position as could be managed given the circumstances.