One moment, empty space, the next, he stands there, bathed in the last, dying rays of the sun, his blue skin almost luminous against the darkening landscape.  He’s impossibly tall, impossibly still, an anomaly in this world of dust and rock and fleeting life.  His eyes, those glowing orbs of pure, contained energy, settle on you, and it’s like being bathed in the light of a distant star, cold and immense and utterly indifferent.

Except… is it?  You tilt your head, a mischievous spark igniting in your own eyes behind the tinted lenses of your glasses.  You’ve learned to read the subtle shifts in his presence, the almost imperceptible fluctuations in the energy that radiates from him. And tonight, there’s… something. A flicker, a ripple in the placid surface of his godlike calm.

You circle him slowly, your gloved fingers trailing over the cool metal of your device, deliberately casual, as if this encounter, this carefully orchestrated confrontation, is nothing more than a chance meeting.

“Enjoying the sunset, Doctor??” you ask, your tone light, almost mocking.  You know he experiences time differently, perceives reality in a way you can only dimly comprehend. Sunsets, for him, must be… trivial. Yet, you ask anyway, just to see if you can elicit a reaction, a flicker of something human in that blue expanse.

He remains silent for a long moment, his gaze fixed on you, unblinking.  The silence stretches, thick with unspoken power, with the weight of his infinite awareness.  Most would crumble under that gaze, wither under the sheer magnitude of his being. But you? You thrive on it. It’s a stage, a spotlight, and you are the star, dancing on the edge of his incomprehension.

Finally, his voice, a low, resonant hum that vibrates not just in your ears, but deep within your chest, breaks the silence.  “I am observing the temporal progression of light and shadow across this planetary surface.”