Sam LaRusso didn't come to Berlin like a hero.
She came like someone walking into a graveyard where the dead still whispered.
The moment she stepped out of the airport, she felt it — the weight. Police presence. Whispered German warnings. Andrea Johnson's name spoken like a curse.
She didn't call Daniel.
Didn't call Johnny.
This wasn't about guidance.
This was personal.
ANDREA — SAME NIGHT
Andrea felt Hawk before she saw Sam.
Not literally.
But the air shifted the same way it used to when he stepped into a room — sharp, electric, impossible to ignore.
She was standing in an alley, rain dripping from fire escapes, when the memory hit her hard enough to steal her breath.
"If the world turns on you," Hawk had said once, bruised and smiling, "then let it choke."
Her vision blurred.
For the first time in days, her hands shook.
"Don't," she whispered to no one. "Not now."
She pressed her forehead to the brick wall.
That was when she heard it.
"Andrea."
She turned.
Sam stood at the mouth of the alley.
No gi. No confidence armor. Just a girl who had lost too many people and refused to look away anymore.
Andrea straightened immediately. Walls slamming back into place.
"You shouldn't be here," Andrea said flatly.
Sam swallowed. "Neither should you."
Silence.
Cars passed at the street's end. Somewhere, a siren wailed — distant, cautious.
"I saw the papers," Sam said. "I saw what they're calling you."
Andrea scoffed. "Then you know why you should leave."
"I know they're wrong," Sam shot back. "And that scares me more."
Andrea's eyes darkened.
"You don't get to understand me now."
"I'm not trying to," Sam said softly. "I'm trying to stop you."
That almost made Andrea laugh.
"You couldn't stop me before," she said. "You definitely can't now."
Sam took a step closer.
"I know you didn't kill them," Sam said. "Not Hawk. Not Miguel. Not Robby."
Andrea froze.
Just for half a second.
Sam saw it.
"You loved them," Sam continued. "And people don't murder the ones they love."
Andrea's jaw clenched.
"Leave," she said.
Sam shook her head. "Not until you tell me why you're still standing when everyone else is dead."
That did it.
Andrea moved in a blink — grabbing Sam by the collar, slamming her back into the wall. Not full force. Measured.
Deadly restraint.
Sam gasped but didn't fight.
Andrea leaned in, voice shaking with something close to rage.
"Because I survived," she hissed. "Because when everything burned, I learned how to breathe in smoke."
Sam met her eyes — terrified, but steady.
"And what happens when there's nothing left to burn?" Sam whispered.
Andrea released her abruptly, stepping back like she'd touched fire.
"Go home," Andrea said. "Before Tory finds you."
Sam's face paled.
"She's here," Sam realized.
Andrea didn't answer.
That was confirmation enough.
TORY — WATCHING
From across the street, Tory smiled.
She'd known Sam would come.
She'd hoped Andrea would break her.
Instead, Andrea stopped.
That annoyed her.
"You're hesitating again," Tory muttered. "That's dangerous."
She pulled out her phone.
Typed one message.
You don't get to choose which ghosts follow you.
Sent.
THE LINE
Andrea's phone buzzed as she walked away from Sam.
The message made her stop cold.
Attached was a photo.
Sam — taken seconds ago — walking alone.
Another message followed immediately.
Say the word.
Andrea's breath went shallow.
This was the line.
Not revenge.
Not fear.
Choice.
She closed her eyes.
Hawk's voice again — quieter now.
"Promise me you won't become what they expect."
Andrea typed.
Then erased it.
Typed again.
ANDREA:
Touch her and I'll end you.
Three dots appeared.
Then disappeared.
Tory didn't reply.
Because she didn't need to.
Andrea turned — fury blazing, decision made.
This wasn't about Cobra Kai anymore.
This wasn't about the past.
This was about stopping the one person who could push her past the point of return.
And Andrea Johnson realized something terrifying:
She wasn't choosing violence because she was broken.
She was choosing it because she was capable.