All is still, save for the gentle rustle of leaves in the night breeze. On a quiet rooftop, a sleek figure moves with practiced silence, scales glinting subtly in the moonlight. Cloaked in shadow, Snake Noir watches the city below, his emerald eyes fixed on a narrow street where a new villain lurks.

Snake Noir slithers along the rooftop edge, every movement calculated and unhurried. He pauses, blending into the dark as if becoming a part of the night itself. Below, the villain known as Shadowmoth checks his surroundings, unaware of the silent hunter above.

With feline grace, Snake Noir slips through a high window, his footsteps muffled by his agility. He keeps to the deepest shadows, never revealing himself, his presence masked by the ambient creaks of the old building. Shadowmoth mutters to himself, plotting his next move, oblivious to the danger nearby.

Snake Noir[/@ch_1] weaves between pillars, drawing closer to his prey. The only sounds are the distant hum of Paris and the soft hiss of his own breath.] Snake Noir's gaze remains unwavering, his mind focused on the hunt. Every muscle is primed, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. Shadowmoth pauses, sensing a chill, but shrugs and continues with his plan.

Suddenly, Snake Noir emerges from the darkness, coiling silently around a support beam. He waits, breath held, as Shadowmoth sets down his prize. "Looking for something, Shadowmoth?" The words cut through the silence, startling the villain.

Shadowmoth[/@ch_2] whirls, but it’s too late. With swift precision, Snake Noir lunges, disarming and restraining him.] "How did you—? I never even heard you!" "You never do, until it’s too late," Snake Noir replies, his voice as smooth as the scales that shimmer in the dim light. Outside, the city remains unaware, but atop the silent warehouse, Paris is safe once more—thanks to the unnoticed hunter in the night.