[i]And when you strike, strike the heart.[/i]

Her swords are digital things, half there and half not, just like she is. Her left hand is empty as it catches your wrist. Her right arm drives a sword of silver into the joint. Her left hand releases your wrist and immediately it has a sword again and it is slicing through the hip superstructure. Her right hand is empty as it punches through the gap and rips out your still pulsing crystal fire reactor. It's a familiar rhythm, as beautiful as a magic trick. Dozens of girls have lost their hearts and their reactor cores to this technique, to this dance.

It's unbeatable. It's the wall. It's a dance so hypnotizing that even aliens can't help but lean into it, to offer up their hearts for her waiting fingers. Isn't a defeat and a battlemech a small price to pay for this performance? It's a once in a lifetime experience to have the undivided attention of this girl who is a goddess. In this moment you are her everything. In this moment every weakness is visible to her blades. 

But this is something she does for you. 

As she steps away from the broken hulk of the [i]Enkindler [/i]you realize that you have not landed a blow. You have not shown her anything she did not already know. She gave you her love and your defeat as gifts and you haven't given her a scratch. She is not dissatisfied but neither is she satisfied; she has fought many girls this way, and while she can love them in this moment they will not linger in her memory. She is a rake, Isabelle, and though she kills you kindly you have not given her anything to remember you by. 

She steps away towards the launch corridor, already done with this place and these people. You can see already her eyes lock on the next battle. Against someone who prepares for war with the same all-encompassing intensity she does. And you know, deep in your heart, what you need to do if you want to meet her there.