𝙎𝙣𝙖𝙠𝙚𝙗𝙞𝙩𝙚 {𝙏𝙤𝙧𝙮 𝙉𝙞𝙘𝙝𝙤𝙡𝙨}

𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝘾𝙧𝙚𝙚𝙙

Zeke sat on the old leather couch in the dimly lit basement, the smell of sweat and dust filling his nostrils.

John, stood before him, his eyes sharp and intense, radiating an aura of authority and power. Behind him, the mural of a cobra coiled menacingly on the wall, its eyes seeming to follow Zeke's every move.

Kreese's gaze shifted momentarily to the stairs, where Sofia was taking selfies with her phone. He shook his head, a look of disdain crossing his features. "This pipsqueak generation," he muttered. "They don't know what it means to fight. To survive. But you, Ezekiel, you're different. You have the potential to understand."

Zeke sat up straighter, feeling the weight of his grandfather's words. He had always looked up to Kreese, sensing the strength and discipline that emanated from him. Now, he was eager to learn more about the legacy he was supposed to uphold.

"Cobra Kai isn't just a dojo," Kreese began, his voice low and commanding. "It's a way of life. A philosophy that has been passed down for generations. Your father went through the same training, and now it's your turn."

He led Zeke to a room at the back of the basement. The walls were adorned with old photographs and newspaper clippings of karate tournaments. In the center of the room, a framed poster displayed the Cobra Kai creed: "Strike First. Strike Hard. No Mercy."

Kreese pointed to the poster. "This is the creed of Cobra Kai," he said. "Strike First. Strike Hard. No Mercy. Each of these rules is essential. Let me explain."

He turned to face Zeke, his expression serious. "Strike First means you don't wait for your opponent to make a move. You take the initiative. You control the fight from the very beginning. In life, as in karate, hesitation is your enemy."

Zeke nodded, absorbing every word. Kreese continued, his voice rising with intensity. "Strike Hard means you put everything into every move. You don't hold back. You give it your all, every single time. It's about power and determination."

"And No Mercy," Kreese said, his eyes narrowing. "No Mercy means you don't give your opponent a chance to recover. You finish what you start. You show them no compassion, no leniency. In a fight, mercy is weakness."

Zeke felt a surge of determination. He wanted to prove himself worthy of the Cobra Kai legacy, to show his grandfather that he had what it took to be a true fighter.

Kreese walked over to a wall covered in trophies and medals. "Cobra Kai won several All Valley tournaments before 1984," he said, a hint of pride in his voice. "We were unstoppable. But then everything changed."

He picked up a framed newspaper clipping and handed it to Zeke. The headline read: "Local Boy Wins All Valley Karate Tournament." Beneath it was a picture of Daniel LaRusso, the boy from Reseda, holding the trophy.

"After some slope and a scrawny boy from Reseda turned everything to nothing," Kreese said, his voice filled with bitterness. "We lost everything. And it happened again the following year. Cobra Kai was humiliated. Daniel LaRusso and his sensei destroyed everything we built."

Zeke stared at the picture, feeling a mix of anger and determination. He could see the pain in his grandfather's eyes, the resentment that had festered for decades.

"But now, Cobra Kai is back," Kreese said, his voice filled with a fierce resolve. "And it is rightfully ours. Your legacy. It's time for you to reclaim it."

Zeke looked up at his grandfather, a fire burning in his eyes. "I won't let you down, Grandpa," he said, his voice steady and determined.

Kreese placed a hand on Zeke's shoulder, a rare gesture of affection. "I know you won't, Ezekiel. You have the heart of a fighter. And with Cobra Kai's teachings, you will become unstoppable."