Somewhere in the Middle East – Two Years Ago
Gunfire. Screams. Sand soaked with blood.
Staff Sergeant Mike Harris, age 35, gritted his teeth as shrapnel tore through his shoulder. He stumbled behind a ruined Humvee, clutching his rifle with one hand and pressing against the wound with the other. The mission had gone sideways—ambush, chaos, and the smell of death in the heat.
"Eagle One, this is Ghost—repeat, this is Ghost—team compromised!"
Static.
He knew the call wouldn't get through.
He peeked around the corner—enemy movement closing in. His squad was scattered. Some dead. Some worse. But Mike didn't hesitate. One last push. One last stand.
He surged forward into gunfire, shouting like a demon, bullets tearing past him. His final thought wasn't of fear… but of peace.
"At least it ends with purpose."
Everything went white.
Darkness. Silence. Then… Breath.
Mike awoke—not in a hospital, not in heaven or hell—but on a hardwood floor, gasping for air like he'd been drowning.
He bolted upright.
The air smelled clean. The light was soft. He was in a modest apartment— unfamiliar, but real. No wounds. No uniform. No scars, save for the pain still echoing deep inside his bones.
He staggered to a mirror.
Same face. Same age. Same haunted eyes.
But this wasn't his world.
On the nearby TV, a headline played:
"Cobra Kai Reopens—Valley Tensions Rise Between Rival Dojos"
Mike stared at the screen, jaw tight.
"Cobra Kai?"
He didn't know how… or why.
But fate had thrown him into a second life.
And this time, he wasn't just a soldier.
He was something else.