Keizer's helmet gave way beneath the force of the punch, knocking it clean off and breaking the faceplate. Each subsequent punch hit Keizer's bare head, and after three strikes, the chainsaw stopped revving. The plasma that made up the blade began dissipating, a cloud of blue coming from the hole in the midsection of Alexander's machine. The rail didn't retract, but it was clearly obvious that with each strike, more of the white robot's systems began failing.<br/><br/>"Come on, come on! Don't you fail me now!" Rance said, trying desperately to move Keizer's limbs. He limpy raised his un-pinned arm, but after a few seconds, it fell back down to his side. About a dozen 'systems failing' messages appeared on his HUD, and the lighting in the cockpit flickered. He could do nothing but stand and brace for impact when the finishing move was made.<br/><br/>Keizer's chestplate cracked, and the force of the punch launched him across the arena and into the wall again. He slammed into it hard enough to break a good amount of the stone away, and the barrier around the arena that protected the audience from the mechs flickered. Keizer's eyes faded, as did the light on its chest, as its power went completely out.<br/><br/>Rance sat in the cockpit, hunched over the controls silently. He was still gripping them tightly, but no longer moving them. For about half a minute, he remained still, taking slow, deep breaths. He finally moved in a few quick motions, removing his seatbelt, kicking open the cockpit, and stepping out of Keizer's torso. His pilot suit was a bit flamboyant, but stylish. A somewhat tight black undersuit paired with a high-collared and somewhat long white jacket with matching boots and gloves, as well as a white helmet with a blue, enlongated triangular visor, made him stand out quite a bit.<br/><br/>He grabbed the sides of said helmet and pulled it off, revealing himself to be a pretty young man of mostly-Japanese descent. His blonde hair suggested mixed heritage of some sort. His eyes were very obviously artificial, with slightly too-white sclera and grey-blue irises. His pupils resembled a camera aperture, and had some small inscriptions on them that were too small to read.<br/><br/>"HEY! LET'S HEAR IT FOR THE NEW CHAMPION!" He shouted, urging the audience to cheer. They complied, and he clapped alongside them, a large smile crossing his face. He took the loss incredibly well. Second place victory still had a pretty good prize, after all.