Berlin locked its doors.
Police patrols doubled. Posters went up overnight. News anchors stopped calling Andrea "a former student" and started calling her "an active threat."
She walked anyway.
Hood down. Spine straight. Eyes forward.
Fear parted crowds faster than any weapon ever could.
And Tory loved it.
She never appeared directly anymore — not at first. She learned Andrea's rhythm. The places she walked. The bridges she stopped on. The cafés she never entered.
Then she spoke.
Not out loud.
In Andrea's head.
They're watching you like prey.You remember when Hawk used to laugh at that? Said fear was just respect without honesty.
Andrea's jaw tightened.
She didn't answer.
She didn't have to.
FLASHBACK — HAWK
Bloodied knuckles. Neon lights. Hawk leaning against a locker, bruised and grinning like pain was a joke.
"You're not broken," he'd said. "You're just sharper than the rest of them."
He'd been wrong.
Or maybe he'd been right too early.
Andrea stopped walking.
A group of teenagers across the street recognized her. One of them whispered her name like a prayer gone wrong.
She turned.
They ran.
She let them.
SAM — IN THE AIR
Sam LaRusso didn't sleep on the plane.
Every time she closed her eyes, she saw Andrea's face on the news — empty, distant, familiar in a way that made her stomach twist.
"She's not just violent," Sam whispered to herself. "She's grieving."
Johnny's words echoed in her head:Some people don't break when they lose everything. They harden.
Sam clenched her fists.
"I won't let her do this again," she said quietly.
The seatbelt light blinked on.
Berlin waited.
TORY — REVEALED
Andrea felt her before she saw her.
A presence.
A weight.
Tory stepped out of the shadows near the river, hands in her jacket pockets, expression soft in a way that meant danger.
"You see it now," Tory said. "They're not afraid of Cobra Kai."
Andrea didn't move. "They're afraid of me."
Tory smiled. "Exactly."
Andrea turned slowly. "You didn't come here just to watch."
"No," Tory admitted. "I came because you're standing on the edge."
"And you want to push."
"I want you to jump."
Andrea stepped closer. Close enough to hit. Close enough to kill.
"You keep saying their names," Andrea said quietly. "Like you didn't bleed with them too."
Tory's smile cracked.
"Hawk chose you over the dojo," Tory snapped. "Miguel chose mercy. Robby chose love."
Andrea flinched at that.
"And where did it get them?" Tory finished. "Dead."
Silence screamed between them.
Andrea's voice was low. Controlled.
"You're using them."
Tory leaned in. Whispered poison.
"No. I'm reminding you who stayed."
Andrea's hands curled.
This time, when she moved—
—it was intentional.
She slammed Tory into the concrete. Hard. Not wild. Precise.
Tory laughed even as the air left her lungs.
"There she is," she gasped. "The girl who stopped pretending."
Andrea didn't stop.
She pinned Tory, forearm pressing down, eyes burning — not with rage.
With clarity.
"I am not your weapon," Andrea said.
Tory's eyes shone.
"No," she whispered. "You're your own."
Andrea pulled back at the last second.
Not mercy.
Control.
She stood.
For the first time, Tory didn't look victorious.
She looked relieved.
ELSEWHERE — TOM
Tom watched Andrea's image flicker across another screen.
"She's not coming back," Bill said softly.
Tom didn't answer.
He already knew.
Because the way Andrea stood now — alone, unflinching, feared —
—that wasn't someone waiting to be saved.
That was someone who had chosen herself over everything else.
ANDREA — ALONE
She stood over the river again.
Phone buzzing in her pocket.
This time, it wasn't Tory.
Unknown number. International.
She didn't answer.
She already knew what was coming.
Sam LaRusso was in Berlin.
And Andrea Johnson had finally stopped pretending she wasn't ready for war.