'Perfect', a sadistic grin nearly curling beneath the Brahma Bull's iconic, menacing mask. The spear-wielding elementalist's verbal response came with it a tactical hole for the Gothic City Nightmare to exploit. Unconcerned with the deemed nonsensical 'this' and 'that' spouted from his other, vampiric foe's mouth, the Brahma Bull's hulking frame turned to face the silver-haired girl. His resolute footsteps bringing him forward with rocking quakes that reverberated across the structurally yielding concrete ground, his luminous, soulless vermilion eyes intent on meeting his adversary's with an unblinking gaze. Success had been acquired, she met his gaze while combating her evident fear with emerging courage. Yet the deed had been done.
Eye contact had been achieved. Eye contact, maintained for ten seconds was the only prerequisite to the Gangster of Guerrilla Warfare's recently acquired, supernatural ability to inflict unparalleled psychological trauma on his opponents. Intent on maintaining the girl's ocular attention for those ten seconds, to beguile her into a trap that could not be discerned, the powerful bass of his monstrous voice began. "Messiah?", he paused, internally scoffing at the title, having never once claimed to be that which the girl blindly accuses him of, "Perhaps. But you don't seem to know what a messiah is, girl", a cruelly taunting laugh following as his approach grows closer. With the intention of capturing the girl's attention for the required amount of time with idealistic conversation, he continues the implementation of his 'gameplan'. "A messiah is an individual. One who believes that they and only they are in a unique position to lead a people, to bring forth a radical change to fit their idealistic vision of what ought to be. To believe one can do that requires hubris".
"Messiah is a misleading title", his suffocating body heat encompassing them as he inches closer with every domineering step. "To want to lead a people, to want to decide for the rest of the world what is best for it because you believe you have the answer. I do not hide behind the false-face of a bigoted religion or a benevolent dream for tomorrow. But that is what messiahs need to veil wandering eyes from what they truly seek, from what all of history's messiahs have all sought, power", he continues. "But no, I do not hide behind the title of 'messiah'. I embrace the title's true name. Conqueror", he pauses, standing mere inches before her, his piercing crimson gaze never wavering from her eyes. "Icarus fell because he did not learn to fear the sun. Nothing has changed from the days of your childhood when like Little Red Riding Hood, you feared the Big Bad Wolf. Only this time, it is another diminutive bitch facing a greater monster".
Ten seconds and his ocular powers commence, hoping to seize the established eye contact to trap his adversary's mind within the torturous confines of an illusionary domain entirely subservient to his control. Armed with the ability to alter his entrapped victim's perception of time, should he succeed in imprisoning the youthful spear-fighter in the illusion, he would render the entire ordeal which lasts only several seconds, to seem like an array of days to aggrandize the severity of her psychological torture. She would find herself in what appears to be a frightening domain of slag and burning skies and frigid air. A desecrated, decaying place washed in blood and smeared with excrement as his opponent's greatest fears would emerge to endlessly haunt her, abusing the sensation of fear and forcing her to relive the most traumatizing experiences imaginable, again and again and again, intent on viciously breaking her mind and reducing her to no more than a child in a vegetative state.
Enduring her unleashed incendiary attacks, his natural control over hellfire coupled with his durability enabling him to sustain what was generally only superficial wounds, the Brahma Bull though barely superhuman in his rapidity, darted back with a dexterous back-step, having to halt his desire to savagely cut down the spear-wielder with his black-bladed machete in order to evade the dual assault launched by Allstar, and the vampiric teenager. Leaning his head and upper body away from the waist, implementing a Muay Thai-brand of head movement while exploiting his height to force his armed opponent's initial sword swing to lacerate the flesh on his left shoulder as opposed to his jugular, he darted back, a series of M67 grenade pins falling to the ground before his adversary as a cluster of fragmentation grenades lingering mere inches from her frame sought to detonate and graphically scorch her while steel fragments would fling to violently puncture her.
Meanwhile his back-step's successful evasion of Allstar's generated blast had exposed his katana-wielding not only to the explosive might of his grenades, but to the wrath of the Golden Guardian's blast. Panting somewhat, his physical attributes reverting to those possessed during his pre-Horseman era courtesy of the katana-wielding vampire's initial laceration, the corners of his lips edged upwards in a triumphant grin at the radioed information that Ivana, the 23rd Strigidae was fast approaching to join the fray.