Andrea didn't run.
She walked straight into the dark.
The abandoned U-Bahn platform was sealed off, red-and-white tape fluttering uselessly in the stale air. Water dripped somewhere in the distance. The kind of place where screams wouldn't echo far enough to matter.
Tory was waiting.
Of course she was.
"You came alone," Tory said, almost pleased. "Good. No witnesses. No heroes."
Andrea shrugged off her jacket slowly, deliberately. Her face was calm — not empty this time.
Focused.
"You used Sam," Andrea said. "That's where you fucked up."
Tory laughed. Sharp. Broken. "You think I don't know what lines matter to you? That's why they work."
Andrea stepped closer.
"I warned you."
"And yet," Tory tilted her head, eyes gleaming, "here you are. Choosing me. Choosing this."
Andrea didn't answer.
She attacked.
Not like before.
Not like Atlanta.
This wasn't survival.
This was execution-level intent.
Tory barely blocked the first strike. Andrea drove her back, relentless, brutal precision in every movement. Elbow. Knee. Palm strike to the throat that almost crushed cartilage.
Tory grinned through blood.
"There she is."
Andrea slammed her into a concrete pillar. The sound cracked through the station.
"You think this makes you loyal?" Andrea snarled. "You think Cobra Kai was ever worth this?"
Tory coughed, still smiling.
"It was the only place we weren't weak."
Andrea grabbed her by the collar and threw her to the ground.
"No," Andrea said coldly. "It was the place we learned how to hurt faster than we learned how to heal."
Tory wiped blood from her mouth, eyes glassy now.
"They're all dead," she whispered. "Hawk. Robby. Miguel. You think being better saved them?"
Andrea froze.
That name again.
Hawk.
Her control slipped — just a crack.
Tory lunged.
Andrea barely dodged. Tory's blade — small, hidden — nicked Andrea's side. Blood bloomed dark against fabric.
Andrea didn't even look down.
She disarmed Tory in one vicious movement and slammed her flat on her back.
Knee to chest.
Forearm to throat.
Andrea leaned down, voice deadly quiet.
"Say his name again," she whispered, "and I won't stop."
Tory's smile finally broke.
Tears filled her eyes — furious, ugly, real.
"I didn't come to drag you back," Tory choked. "I came because I couldn't be alone with it."
Andrea hesitated.
Just long enough.
Tory laughed weakly. "See? You're still lying to yourself."
Andrea stood.
Stepped back.
"I'm not killing you," she said. "Not because I can't."
Tory looked up at her, confused.
"Because you want me alive," Andrea finished. "You need someone to blame. Someone to fight."
Silence swallowed them.
Sirens wailed somewhere above — finally, too late as always.
Andrea turned away.
"Leave Berlin," she said. "If I see you again… I won't hesitate."
Tory's voice cracked behind her.
"You think this ends you?"
Andrea didn't look back.
"I think this ends us."
SAM — WATCHING FROM AFAR
Sam stood frozen at the entrance of the platform, heart pounding.
She'd seen enough.
Andrea bleeding.
Andrea sparing Tory.
Andrea choosing control over chaos.
Sam finally understood.
Andrea wasn't a monster.
She was a weapon that refused to be owned.
Andrea glanced at Sam briefly as she passed.
"Go home," Andrea said softly. "Tell them I'm not coming back."
Sam swallowed. "What are you going to do?"
Andrea stopped.
"For the first time?" she said quietly. "Something that's actually mine."
Then she disappeared into the tunnels.
AFTERMATH
Tory lay on the cold concrete long after Andrea was gone.
Laughing.
Crying.
Bleeding.
"She's stronger than me," Tory whispered to no one.
And somewhere in Berlin, the city exhaled — unaware that the worst part wasn't the violence.
It was the restraint.
Because Andrea Johnson had proven something far more terrifying than rage:
She could stop.