Isabelle watches as Kirala leaps down to attack. Listens as Adriana gloats as the server rack sparks with her strikes. Feels the ridges of her own sword as her hand grips it so tightly that her knuckles go to white.

And then she squeezes her eyes shut.

[i]Why aren't we fighting? This is the moment, isn't it? Matty said so![/i]

[i]They're waiting on us. We can't let them down!

... can we?[/i]

She takes a shuddering breath.

[i]This is scary. But look at Adriana. She's really just hamming it up. Even in danger she's finding what fun she can. Can't we do that? We did that in the arena with Solarel, that was the whole point of the fight! Why can't we do it now?[/i]

Isabelle grimaces. 

[i]This isn't like the arena. This is real life. It has real consequences. We used to treat everything as some sort of competition, never really took the other people seriously as people, and look at all the pain we caused - and that was just in the arena. We can't treat this stuff like a game.

Not to mention we could actually be hurt too. [/i]Pipes up one of the quieter Isabelles.

[i]So, what, we do nothing then? Let everyone get caught?

It's our duty to do it.

Nobody said doing Good was going to be easy.

But ... we have to do it anyway. Don't we. Otherwise, it's only talk. This whole idea of trying to be better falls apart if we don't have the resolve to follow through ...[/i]

Eyes still shut, Isabelle frowns.

[i]Remember ... it's just like dancing.[/i]

A memory. Her hand grips an epee. Smaller, younger. Looking up into the helmeted face of her instructor.

[i]There's a rhythm to any fight. Be it with a single partner, or in a group. Like in dancing, you must anticipate your opponent's moves, flow to meet them where you need to be. Like in dancing, your footwork, grace and agility will be your tools.[/i]

Isabelle's eyes stay shut. But her thumb shifts, cracking her azure blade an inch out of its hilt.

[i]Take the first position. Maintain balance into the pilé. Releve. Two demi, one grand. Cambré forward and back. Repeat.[/i]

A different class. A different teacher. The same lessons but from another angle. If you were to ask her, there weren't many things she actually enjoyed about her childhood. But dancing was one of them.

Her eyes stay shut. But the lights in the corridor go out.

[i]Steps. One. Two. Three. Bring your energy forward! Sauté into the port de bras.[/i]

Blue light arcs in the dark as she opens her eyes at last. She ignores the panicked yells of those around her, people whose eyesight was only now adjusting to darkness. Filtering them out and remembering only the steps she needs to take - as if she'd done them a hundred times before.

The trail her sword leaves in the darkness is a whirling aurora, seeking out a golden counterpart. Cut through the gap. Step to the side. Feel the beat. Parry, twist and [i]push[/i]. 

Metal strikes metal, once, twice, three times - sparks of light making birthing stars out of nothing.

[i]Shift your feet. Come inside the embrace. Bring your partner to their knees.[/i]

A sword clatters to the ground, joining the gun somewhere on the ground as the lights come back on.

Her blade is levelled at Marcina, who - hopefully - is not making any moves to continue the fight with Kirala.

"Fury is the wrong emotion here." she says, addressing a freshly disarmed Adriana. "But if you wish a daring escape, I am happy to provide one in lieu of a goddess. And in exchange for wrath, please accept my determination."

"In point: these people are under [i]my [/i]protection. And [i]we [/i]are [i]leaving[/i]."