The alley in Hell's Kitchen trembled as the white light of Alex's transformation into Simon from Gurren Lagann faded, leaving the air charged with an electric hum. The spiral energy coursing through him felt alive, a wild, pulsating force that surged from his core to his fingertips. His pilot suit clung to his frame, the drill pendant at his neck glinting faintly under the dim streetlights. Across from him, Bullseye perched on the fire escape, his grin faltering as he sized up this new opponent. The assassin twirled another razor-sharp playing card between his fingers, his posture tense but confident, the bounty on Omni-Guy fueling his resolve.
"Nice trick, kid," Bullseye sneered, his voice cutting through the stillness. "But I've taken down tougher than you. Let's see how long that shiny new look lasts."
Without warning, he flicked his wrist, sending a card slicing through the air. Alex's enhanced reflexes—bolstered by Simon's Spiral Power—kicked in. He sidestepped, the card embedding itself in the brick wall behind him with a sharp thunk. The motion was instinctive, fluid, as if the energy within him anticipated the attack. Bullseye didn't hesitate, launching a barrage—cards flying in a deadly arc, each one aimed with surgical precision. Alex ducked and weaved, the projectiles grazing his suit, leaving shallow tears but no real harm.
"Come on, stand still!" Bullseye growled, leaping from the fire escape to the ground with a catlike grace. He drew a pair of throwing knives from his belt, hurling them in quick succession. Alex raised a hand, and the Spiral Power surged, forming a shimmering barrier of energy that deflected the blades, sending them clattering to the pavement.
The fight escalated. Bullseye charged, closing the distance with a series of acrobatic flips, aiming a kick at Alex's head. Alex caught the leg mid-air, his grip iron-tight, and twisted, throwing Bullseye into a stack of crates. Wood splintered under the impact, and the assassin grunted, rolling to his feet with a grimace. Blood trickled from a cut on his forehead, but his eyes burned with fury.
"You're gonna pay for that," Bullseye spat, pulling a handgun from his holster. He fired a rapid volley, bullets ricocheting off the alley walls. Alex dove behind a dumpster, the metal pinging as rounds struck it. His heart pounded, but the Spiral Power steadied him, a wellspring of courage and resolve. He peeked out, calculating his next move. Genos's armor had been resilient, but Simon's adaptability was key here—Bullseye's precision demanded a dynamic counter.
Rising, Alex channeled the energy within him. His pendant glowed, and a drill-shaped aura materialized around his arm, spiraling with raw force. He lunged forward, the drill spinning as he closed the gap. Bullseye fired again, but the bullets seemed to bend around Alex, the Spiral Power deflecting them with an almost magnetic pull. The drill struck, slamming into Bullseye's chest and sending him crashing through a rusted door into the warehouse beyond.
Dust and debris filled the air as Alex stepped inside, the warehouse's cavernous interior echoing with the creak of strained metal. Bullseye lay sprawled among shattered crates, his chest heaving. A chunk of his left arm was missing—flesh torn away by the drill's force, leaving a jagged wound that oozed blood onto the concrete. He clutched the injury, his face pale but his eyes still defiant.
"You… you freak," Bullseye rasped, struggling to sit up. "I'll get out of this. Fisk won't let me off—he'll hunt you like I've hunted Daredevil. You're dead, kid."
Alex paused, his breath steadying as the Spiral Power ebbed. He'd won, but the threat lingered—Kingpin's reach was vast, and Bullseye's loyalty to Wilson Fisk was notorious. Leaving him like this risked retaliation, a loose end that could unravel his vigilante life. He considered his options, the Omnitrix humming on his wrist. Tying Bullseye up was the practical move, but a darker idea took root—one that could neutralize the assassin without bloodshed.
He approached, pulling a length of rope from a nearby crate—leftovers from the warehouse's previous occupants, perhaps. With deft movements, he bound Bullseye's wrists and ankles, the assassin too battered to resist effectively. The rope bit into Bullseye's skin, securing him against the wall. Blood dripped steadily from the arm wound, pooling beneath him, but Alex knew it wasn't fatal—yet it was a stark reminder of the fight's intensity.
As he finished, Bullseye glared up at him, his voice a strained growl. "You think this holds me? Fisk'll break me out, and I'll come for you. Just like Daredevil—years of chasing, and I'll get you too."
Alex nodded, acknowledging the threat. He stepped back, activating the Omnitrix. A white light enveloped him, and as it faded, he transformed into Lelouch vi Britannia, the blue segment glowing as his form shifted. His posture straightened, his eyes sharpening with the strategist's cunning. The Geass symbol flared in his left eye, a subtle red glow that promised control.
Bullseye's gaze locked onto him, the assassin's defiance faltering under the hypnotic pull. Alex knelt, forcing Bullseye's drooping eyelids open with a firm grip on his chin. "Look at me," he commanded, his voice low and unyielding. The Geass took hold, Bullseye's pupils dilating as the power sank in.
"You will be as you always were," Alex said, his tone deliberate. "But from now on, guilt will follow you, manipulating you whenever you do something bad. It won't hurt you—don't worry—but it will make you eventually wish you'd never done it. And finally, you will forget this conversation."
Bullseye's head lolled slightly, a faint "yes" escaping his lips. His eyes glazed over, the fight draining from them as the Geass rewrote his psyche. Alex released him, standing and wiping his hands on his jacket. The assassin would remain a killer, true to his nature, but each act of violence would now carry a psychological weight, a torment that might one day break him—or at least slow his pursuit.
As Alex turned to leave, Bullseye's voice broke the silence, a confused shout echoing through the warehouse. "What the hell did you just do?!" His tone was frantic, his bound form straining against the ropes, but the memory of the Geass was already fading, leaving him to grapple with an inexplicable unease.
Alex didn't look back. He slipped into the shadows of the warehouse, the blue light of Lelouch's form blending with the darkness. The city awaited, its dangers and secrets still unfolding, and he knew this victory was but a step in a longer journey. The cliffhanger lingered—Bullseye's fate uncertain, his guilt a ticking clock, and Alex's next move shrouded in the night.