Cobra Kai Dojo – Two Weeks Later
Sweat dripped from the ceiling fans as grunts and strikes echoed through the dojo. The students moved faster now. Sharper. The Cobra Kai style had always been about aggression—but under Mike's influence, something had changed.
Control. Discipline. Flow.
Not everyone was a fan.
Hawk stormed off the mat, rubbing his ribs. "This isn't the Cobra Kai I signed up for. We don't pull punches."
Mike raised an eyebrow. "That wasn't pulling. That was redirecting. Big difference."
"Yeah?" Hawk snapped. "Then maybe you should go teach ballet."
The tension was thick.
Mike didn't flinch. "Or maybe you need to learn how to fight without ego."
Johnny stepped in. "Enough. Both of you."
But the moment lingered. Hawk shot Mike a glare as he walked away.
Later – After Hours
Mike stayed behind after everyone had left. The dojo was quiet, lights dimmed. He stood barefoot on the mat, shadowboxing in silence.
Each movement was precise—calculated, but flowing like water.
Suddenly—flashbacks.
Sand. Screams. Gunfire.
He staggered, falling to one knee. His breath caught in his throat. Hands shaking.
A memory surged—his unit ambushed. His best friend, Reilly, calling out. And Mike, pinned, unable to reach him in time.
"Hold on, Reilly! I'm coming!"
But he never made it.
Back to present. The dojo. Silence again.
Mike sat on the edge of the mat, gripping his wrist tightly. The war was over, but the battle inside him wasn't.
Footsteps.
Tory appeared at the door. "You okay?"
He nodded slowly. "Just ghosts."
She leaned against the wall, arms crossed. "You fight like someone who's lost too much."
Mike looked up. "And you fight like someone who's afraid to lose more."
They sat in silence for a moment. A strange understanding settled between them.
"I don't trust easily," Tory said. "But… you're different."
"I'm not here to be liked," Mike replied. "I'm here to make sure none of you break the way I did."
Elsewhere – Germany
One recruit stood out. Fast. Relentless. Unyielding.
They called him Kade. Young. Silent. Barely 17. But he fought like a ghost—no wasted energy, no mercy.
Dr. Kessler watched him with interest.
"This one," she said. "He's ready."
The assistant nodded. "Shall I initiate deployment protocols?"
"Not yet," Kessler said. "First, we test his loyalty. Then… we send him to California."