Johnny couldn't believe his eyes.

Kreese, the man who had shaped his life for better and worse, stood in front of him like a ghost from his past. For years, Johnny had thought Kreese was dead. Until Michael admitted the truth.

Maybe a part of him had hoped it was true.

"You know," Johnny growled, narrowing his eyes at the older man, "I thought you were dead."

Kreese's face broke into a grin, calm and collected as ever. "You ain't the only one, kid. It's good to see you."

Without warning, Johnny launched himself at Kreese, fists flying in a storm of rage. He swung a hard right, but Kreese sidestepped effortlessly, countering with a swift elbow that struck Johnny's ribs. They scuffled, crashing into the shelves of the dojo.

"Still got that hot temper, huh?" Kreese taunted, a smirk curling his lips. "But I like that. I like that."

Johnny shoved Kreese back, panting. "Shut up."

Kreese chuckled, circling around Johnny. "I bet that's why your student is the champion now. They fight like you did. Like I trained you. And my grandson."

At the mention of Zeke, Johnny's blood boiled. He swung again, but Kreese caught his wrist, twisting it painfully before Johnny broke free with a hard elbow to Kreese's face.

"You forgot," Kreese said, barely fazed by the blow, his voice dripping with arrogance. "I taught you everything you know."

Johnny wiped the sweat from his brow, glaring. "Not everything."

Kreese nodded, impressed. "Not bad, Mr. Lawrence. Not bad. But look, I don't want to fight."

"Yeah?" Johnny spat, his fists still clenched. "About what? How you taught me to fight dirty? How you broke my second-place trophy? How you tried to kill me?"

Kreese gave a small laugh and shook his head. "I never tried to kill you, Johnny."

Fueled by years of pent-up rage, Johnny lunged at Kreese again, locking him in a tight headlock. But in the process, the cigar Kreese had been smoking earlier slipped from his grip and fell into a nearby trash can, the embers igniting the paper inside.

"Go to hell, you son of a..." Johnny hissed, tightening the hold, rage blinding him.

But suddenly, he hesitated. All the memories came rushing back—the fear, the pain, the twisted loyalty he'd once felt toward this man. He froze, his grip loosening just for a second.

Kreese sensed Johnny's momentary weakness and capitalized on it. "Showing mercy to an old man, huh? That's very honorable."

And with a sudden, brutal motion, Kreese broke free, twisting out of the headlock before sweeping Johnny's leg, sending him crashing to the floor. "And stupid."

As Johnny hit the ground, a crackling sound grew louder—the fire from the trash can had spread. Flames danced up the wall, licking the edges of the Cobra Kai posters. The dojo was quickly filling with smoke. The smoke alarm blared, and water began to spray from the ceiling.

🐍

At a local restaurant, the Cobra Kai gang was celebrating Miguel's All Valley Championship victory. The energy was high, laughter echoing through the place, as Aisha, Hawk, Moon, and Demetri gathered at one table. But at a separate booth in the back, Zeke sat with Miguel, trying to lift his friend's spirits.

Miguel, however, was staring blankly at his phone. "She blocked me, man," he muttered, scrolling through his messages.

Zeke leaned back in his chair, trying to seem nonchalant. "Who cares? She's probably out with that guy." He didn't bother sugarcoating it—and it was time Miguel accepted it.

Miguel's eyes flickered with frustration. "Do you have to keep bringing that up?"

Zeke shrugged. "I'm just telling it how it is. You need to move on, man. You're the champ now—there's plenty of other girls out there."

At the other table, Aisha was holding up her phone, recording a video of their small celebration. She pointed the camera at Hawk, Moon, and Demetri, all of whom were munching on nachos.

"So you might be wondering what a team does after they win the championship," Aisha said to the camera, grinning. "The answer? Victory nachos!"

"It was supposed to be drinks, but the waitress wasn't feeling Hawk's fake ID."

Hawk shot a glare at Aisha. "Hey, don't talk about that! My parents follow you on Instagram."

Aisha smirked. "Sorry, Mr. and Mrs. Moskowitz. Anyway, until next time—no mercy, bitches."

Demetri, feeling bold, leaned in. "I gotta say, it's nice to be at a victory party for once."

Hawk didn't miss a beat. "Yeah, except you had nothing to do with the victory."

Demetri blinked, taken aback. "Well, then I consider it a belated party for the coding competition we won at computer camp. Remember?"

Hawk shook his head, rolling his eyes. "Cool it with the nerd shit, huh?"

Aisha glanced over at the table in the back. "Hey, where's Miguel? His wings are getting cold."

Zeke and Miguel were still sitting, Miguel lost in thought. His phone felt heavier than ever, the weight of Sam's silence settling on him.

"She blocked me," Miguel repeated.

"Who cares?" Zeke responded, his voice firm. "You don't need her, man."

Miguel didn't answer, but the pain was clear on his face.

Hawk, having overheard the conversation, walked over. "There you are. This is how you celebrate a first-place trophy?"

Miguel looked up, frustration edging his voice. "She blocked me."

Hawk rolled his eyes. "So what? You get blocked, you counter-punch."

Miguel shook his head. "It's no use, man. I blew any shot I had with her."

Aisha, now standing beside them, offered a kinder approach. "Just give Sam some time. She'll come around."

Zeke, on the other hand, wasn't having it. "Or she won't. Look, you're the champ now, Miguel. You can get any chick in the Valley you want."

Hawk grinned. "Yeah, man, you're like Drake. Enjoy it."

Miguel sighed, the joke doing little to lift his spirits. "I'm not sure I wanna be Drake."

Aisha chuckled. "Don't worry—you're not."

Zeke chimed in, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "I've always been more of a Kendrick fan, anyway."

The tension lightened slightly, with even Miguel managing a small smile. But then, out of the corner of his eye, Zeke spotted something—or rather, someone. His eyes widened.

"Shit," Zeke muttered.

Miguel followed his gaze. "What?"

Zeke nodded toward a blonde waitress standing behind the bar. "That's my ex. Cassidy."

Hawk turned to look, his eyebrows shooting up in surprise. "Over there? Damn, dude, she's hot! How'd you mess that up?"

Zeke grimaced. "I didn't mess up anything. It's a long story."

Cassidy finished taking a family's order and caught sight of Zeke. Her expression shifted slightly, but she sauntered over to the group with a confident smirk.

"Well, well," she said, her tone teasing as she stopped at Zeke's table. "If it isn't Zeke Kreese. Didn't expect to see you here."

Zeke leaned back, keeping his cool. "Cassidy, meet my friends. This is Miguel—and Hawk."

Cassidy turned her attention to Miguel, flashing him a charming smile. "Hey, champ. Nice work out there. I saw you in the semis."

Miguel gave a modest nod. "Thanks. It was a tough fight."

Zeke turned back to Cassidy. "Well, you look good."

Cassidy smirked. "You look better."

She laughed lightly, but then her tone became more serious as she critiqued his performance at the tournament. "You could've been quicker on that last round. And your stance? You were leaving your right side wide open."

Hawk, impressed by her knowledge, raised an eyebrow. "Who are you?"

Cassidy crossed her arms, looking pleased with herself. "I took a few classes at Topanga. Had to drop out after I kicked some kid's tooth out. He had it coming, though."

Hawk's eyes widened in admiration. "Badass."

But before the conversation could continue, Cassidy's boss called out from behind the counter, his tone impatient. Cassidy rolled her eyes. "I gotta get back to work. See you around, Zeke?"

Zeke smirked. "Yeah, probably. See you, Cass."

With a final nod, Cassidy headed back to the bar. As she left, Hawk leaned over to Zeke, grinning. "Dude, she should totally join Cobra Kai."

🐍

Johnny stepped into Smitty's Diner, the scent of greasy food and coffee hitting him the moment he walked through the door. The place was nearly empty, save for a few old-timers nursing cups of coffee in the corner. His eyes landed on Michael Kreese, seated at a booth in the back, sipping on a coffee, calm and collected as ever. The sight of him immediately put Johnny on edge. This was a man whose father had caused him no small amount of grief, and he wasn't in the mood for whatever game Michael was about to play.

Michael looked up with a grin when Johnny approached. "Johnny, thanks for coming," he said smoothly, gesturing for him to sit down.

Johnny didn't sit. He stood across from Michael, arms crossed, his expression hard. "Let's make this fast," he said, his voice gruff. "How the hell did you get my number, and why was your Dad at my dojo?"

Michael leaned back in his seat, chuckling softly as if Johnny's questions were an amusing inconvenience. "Johnny, Johnny, Johnny," he said, shaking his head. "You just got here, man. Why don't you grab a coffee, get some caffeine, and unwind a bit?"

"I don't need to unwind," Johnny growled. "What the hell do you want?"

Michael sighed, setting his cup down with a soft clink. "Johnny, I wanted to talk to you about... joining forces. You and me. Coming back to Cobra Kai, together."

Johnny stared at him, taken aback by the suggestion. "What?"

Michael's eyes lit up as he leaned forward, his voice taking on a persuasive, almost nostalgic tone. "Johnny, think about it. Our society? It's gone soft. Kids today are coddled. They get trophies just for showing up. No competition, no fire." He paused for a moment, as if letting the weight of his words sink in.

"Don't you miss it?" Michael continued, his voice growing more impassioned. "The competition? The thrill? Us, back in the day—me, you, the boys. We'd ride our bikes around, chanting 'Cobra Kai' like we owned the world. You remember that feeling, right? The adrenaline, the power? I miss it, Johnny. I want to feel that again. And I want to help you make Cobra Kai what it's meant to be."

Johnny narrowed his eyes, his arms still crossed over his chest. "That's a nice little speech," he said, unimpressed. "But you're a lawyer. What the hell do you need Cobra Kai for?"

Michael grinned, as if he'd been waiting for that question. "Who's to say I can't multitask? Being a lawyer's just one part of it. But Cobra Kai? That's in my blood. Just like it's in yours." He leaned forward, lowering his voice as if sharing a secret. "Look, Johnny, I think we can help you. Just like you've helped my son."

Johnny's jaw clenched at the mention of Zeke. "Yeah, your son dislocated some kid's shoulder and acted like an asshole. I didn't teach him that."

Michael's smirk deepened. "You mean Robby Keene, your son?" he asked, his tone casual but cutting.

Johnny's face darkened instantly. "How the hell do you know that?" he snapped.

Michael chuckled, raising his hands as if to ease the tension. "I'm a lawyer, Johnny. I know these things." His eyes glinted with amusement. "What's up with that, anyway? Your son training with Daniel LaRusso? Has hell frozen over or something?"

Johnny's anger flared, but he tried to push it down. "Robby doesn't want to speak to me. It doesn't matter."

Michael leaned back in his seat, his expression shifting into something almost sympathetic. "Johnny, we just want to help," he said, his voice softer now, more calculated. "We know what you're dealing with. You're building something special with Cobra Kai, but there are some things you can't do on your own."

Johnny glared at him, sensing the manipulation in Michael's tone. "You keep saying 'we,'" he said. "Why's that?"

Michael's expression remained calm, but his next words dropped like a bomb. "Because my father wants to help too. We both do."

Johnny's stomach churned at the mention of Kreese. His mind instantly flashed back to the dojo earlier that evening—Kreese, standing there, looking like he'd crawled out of some hellhole, spouting off about Cobra Kai being back on top.

"No," Johnny said flatly, shaking his head. "Hell no."

Michael raised an eyebrow. "Why not? Think about it. The founder of Cobra Kai teaming up with the current sensei? That's the kind of power no one can touch. Your dojo would be unstoppable."

Johnny slammed his hand down on the table, startling the few patrons nearby. "The same man who tried to *kill* me?" Johnny's voice was rising, his anger bubbling up with every word. "The same man who made your life hell? You think I'd let him anywhere near my dojo?"

Michael's voice remained calm, almost soothing. "That was a long time ago, Johnny. People change. It's like I told you before, he's harmless."

"Not Kreese," Johnny shot back, his voice dripping with venom. "He doesn't change. I'm not letting your dad anywhere near my kids. I already have one Kreese in my dojo, and I'm not having any more."

Michael's calm facade started to crack, a hint of frustration flickering across his face. "Johnny, you don't understand. You can't do this alone."

Johnny leaned in, his eyes blazing with fury. "I don't need your help. I sure as hell don't need *his* help."

Michael, sensing he was losing control of the conversation, tried one last time. "You might not think you do, but your students... they need the guidance. The world needs Cobra Kai."

Johnny cut him off, his voice deadly quiet now. "Tell your dad to stay away from my students. You understand? He already ruined my life. There's only one sensei in Cobra Kai now. Me. And that's how it's gonna stay."

Michael opened his mouth to argue, but Johnny was already turning on his heel, storming out of the diner without another word. The door slammed shut behind him, leaving Michael alone in the booth, his fingers drumming thoughtfully on the table.

Cobra Kai didn't need Kreese. It never had. And it never would again.

Or at least that's what he thought.

🐍

Zeke Kreese pulled a bright red jacket off the hanger in his closet, admiring the old Cobra Kai logo emblazoned on the back. It was an original design, one his dad had given him. The jacket was a piece of history, a remnant of the days when Cobra Kai was feared across the Valley. Zeke ran his fingers over the patch, feeling a swell of pride before throwing the jacket on and grabbing his sunglasses. He smirked at his reflection in the mirror. It wasn't just about karate for him. It was about power—about proving he was better, stronger, tougher than anyone else.

He threw on his shades and headed out to the garage, where his dirt bike stood waiting. It had been a gift from his dad a few months back, but Zeke hadn't found the time to ride it until now. He revved the engine, feeling the raw energy beneath him as the bike roared to life. The thrill of it made his blood pump faster, excitement rushing through him. He tore out of the driveway and headed for the dojo, the wind whipping against his face as he raced through the streets.

When Zeke pulled up to Cobra Kai, he saw Hawk and Miguel walking toward the dojo. They turned at the sound of his bike, their eyes widening.

"Nice ride," Hawk said, his voice filled with admiration.

"Yeah," Zeke replied, smirking beneath his shades. "It's a gift from my old man. You guys should think about getting some bikes."

Hawk grinned. "Well, I get my license next week."

"Uh-huh," Miguel said, nodding.

"My mom's gonna give me her Sentra," Hawk continued, his tone excited. "But I'm thinking about putting a blue racing stripe down the middle. Hood to tail."

Zeke chuckled. "Subtle. I like it."

As they walked toward the dojo, they noticed a couple of kids standing awkwardly by the door, staring at the building like they were contemplating stepping into a lion's den.

"Looks like we've got some new meat," Zeke said, his voice low with amusement.

"Fresh fish," Hawk added with a sly grin.

The two kids, Chris and Mitch, noticed them approaching and straightened up nervously.

"It's the champs!" Chris exclaimed, clearly impressed. Mitch's eyes were wide as he pointed at Zeke.

"That's the guy who broke that one dude's shoulder," Mitch said in awe.

Hawk smirked and puffed out his chest. "Check this out," he said, taking a step toward them, but Miguel grabbed his arm.

"Don't," Miguel warned.

Zeke wasn't about to let the opportunity slip away. He leaned toward the new recruits, his voice low and intimidating. "So you guys wanna be Cobra Kais, huh?"

Mitch and Chris exchanged nervous glances. "Y-Yeah," Chris stammered.

"You got a long road ahead of you," Hawk added, stepping forward to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with Zeke, their presence casting a shadow over the two younger kids.

The three boys entered the dojo, but the moment they stepped inside, they froze. The place was a mess. Burn marks scorched the walls, broken glass littered the floor, and the air smelled faintly of smoke.

"What the hell happened here?" Zeke asked, his eyes scanning the room in disbelief.

Aisha, already inside, crossed her arms as she surveyed the damage. "Looks like Sensei threw a party," she said with a shrug.

"Must've been pretty sick if fire got involved," Hawk muttered, kicking aside some of the broken glass.

Zeke's brow furrowed. "Look how much glass there is."

"I wonder why he didn't invite us," Hawk joked.

Before they could speculate further, Johnny appeared from his office, his face twisted in anger. "Quiet!" he barked, his voice sharp. The students snapped to attention.

"The dojo's closed to new students today," Johnny said, his tone cold.

Mitch and Chris, eager to impress, stammered out an explanation. "We just wanted to sign up after we saw the tournament."

Johnny's eyes blazed with irritation. "Do I need to say it again? Get out."

Mitch and Chris nodded frantically. "Yes, sir. Sensei."

Johnny waved them off. "Come on, let's go. Move it. Come back tomorrow—and bring your checkbooks."

Once the younger kids were gone, Johnny's gaze swept over his remaining students. "Everyone, fall in."

The Cobra Kai students hurried to form a line, but Johnny's eyes were locked on Hawk, Zeke, and Miguel. He stormed toward them, his face filled with disappointment.

"Must've been a rager, Sensei," Hawk said with a nervous chuckle.

"Yeah, were you celebrating all weekend?" Aisha added.

"Celebrating what?" Johnny snapped. "My students are a bunch of pussies." He pointed at the trio. "Diaz, Hawk, Kreese—up front!"

The boys exchanged uneasy glances before stepping forward.

"Kreese," Johnny growled, his eyes boring into Zeke. "Did you attack your opponent when his back was turned?"

Zeke met Johnny's gaze without flinching. "Yes, Sensei."

Johnny shifted his attention to Miguel. "Diaz, did you purposely attack your opponent's injury?"

Miguel nodded, his voice low. "Yes, Sensei."

Finally, Johnny turned to Hawk. "Hawk, did you move in on your friend's girl and act like a big man when you did it?"

Hawk opened his mouth to respond, but Zeke cut him off. "We're past that, Sensei."

Johnny's face darkened. "You think that makes you badass?" he asked, his voice dangerous. "What's the matter, too tough a question?"

The room was tense, silent. Johnny