I'M IN COBRA KAI BUT NOT EXACTLY

Many fights followed, one after the other, the gym turning into a battlefield as Sekai Taikai reached its peak. In the end, Cobra Kai was eliminated from the tournament, the points against them piling up until they had no chance left. But by some stroke of luck or irony, they got back into the game when one of the other dojos, Black Fang, was disqualified for breaking the rules in a desperate attempt to win. It seemed like the chaos was just beginning. At the end of it all, a huge fight broke out, involving everyone — competitors, senseis, even the judges trying to break it up. It all started with a stupid shove: a guy from the eliminated dojo, full of rage, bumped into a fighter who was still in the fight, and that was it, it was like lighting a match on a tank of gasoline. Fists flew, screams cut through the air, and in the midst of all that chaos... one of the participants ended up dying.

Kreese had brought a small dagger, a hidden weapon that he planned to stab Silver with. His hatred for Silver had gone beyond his limits—the man had stolen everything from him, his dojo, his reputation, every bit of the empire he had built with blood and sweat. He was ready to take justice into his own hands, his eyes glowing with fury as he held the blade. But the fight broke out before he could act, and in the confusion, the dagger fell to the ground, the metal clanging against the mat. Kwon saw the weapon shining in the corner of his eye. He quickly ducked, grabbed the dagger, and ran towards Axel, one of the Iron Dragons fighters, intending to finish him off. But he went to kick Axel, but he defended himself and lost his balance at the worst moment—he fell chest first onto his own dagger, the blade sinking deep as blood dripped onto the mat. It was fast, brutal, and no one was able to react in time. "Why didn't I stop all this?" you must be asking yourselves. The answer is obvious and pathetic: I left before the fight because I needed to go to the bathroom. A stupid reason to lose control of everything.

When I got back, the gym was in chaos. I saw the ambulance parked outside, its lights flashing like a warning I hadn't wanted to see before, and everyone huddled together, screaming, running, or just standing there, staring at the mat in disbelief. I knew right away that shit had happened. The floor was stained red where Kwon had fallen, the paramedics covering his body with a sheet while the referees tried to clean up the mess. I was angry—angry that burned in my chest, made me shake. Angry that I had the power to stop all this and wasn't there to help. I could have stopped Kreese, I could have grabbed the dagger, I could have caught Kwon before he fell. But I was in the bathroom, oblivious, while the world fell apart.

The tournament wasn't over, but it ended right there. There was no way to continue after the death of one of the participants. The worst part? It was shown to practically the entire world — cameras were rolling, broadcasting live on TV channels, websites, social media. Everyone saw the blood, the chaos, the bodies on the ground. Sekai Taikai's reputation was in ruins, and we were left in the eye of the storm, carrying the guilt and shock of that tragedy.

Tory was being treated by doctors in a corner of the gym, sitting on a stretcher with an ice pack on her stomach. One of the Iron Dragons bitches, a tall girl with her hair tied in a ponytail, had kicked her hard in the stomach during the fight. Tory was feeling the pain, her face red from crying so much, her hands shaking as she held her belly, thinking she had lost the baby. It made me more furious than ever—I wanted to chase that bitch down, break every bone in her body with my bare hands, make her feel what Tory was feeling. But I held myself together, swallowing the anger with a lump in my throat, and walked over to her, my heart pounding so hard it felt like it was going to explode.

"Doctor, how is she?" I asked, my voice hoarse, distressed by everything as I approached the stretcher.

The doctor, a middle-aged man with crooked glasses, looked at me with a serious face. "She's fine, for now. But she told me she knew she was pregnant and still went for it. That's very irresponsible. If the kick had landed a little lower, the baby might not have survived. She was lucky, but she needs complete rest now."

"Shit," I muttered, clenching my hands tightly until my knuckles turned white. What he was saying was true, and I felt like a complete idiot for all of it. "I shouldn't have let her fight," I said quietly, more to myself than to the doctor, guilt eating away at me as I stared at Tory.

She was listening to everything, her eyes filled with tears that were streaming down her face without stopping. "Clark… Snif… I'm sorry, I almost lost our baby…" Her voice was shaking, almost breaking as she held her belly with both hands, as if she wanted to protect what was still there.

"Don't apologize, Tory," I said, bending down to her level, my voice firm but thick with emotion. "It was my fault, all of it. I shouldn't have let you fight. Like the doctor said, it was very irresponsible, especially on my part. I'm the one at fault here."

"I know, but I agreed to all of this too," she replied, wiping her face with her sleeve, sobs cutting off her words. "I wanted to finish the tournament, to show that I could… But look at everything that happened. Kwon died… That could have been any one of us. Just thinking about it, I… Sniff… Sniff…" She lowered her head, her body shaking as she cried louder, pain and fear mixing in her voice.

I placed my hand on her head, gently stroking her hair, trying to calm her down as my chest tightened. "It's okay, beautiful. You're okay, the baby's okay. What happened to Kwon was a fatality, I know. We'll give our condolences later, but right now you need to take care of yourself." I forced a smile at her, but inside I was in chaos—anger, guilt, relief, all swirling around in my head.

I was wondering why Tory was crying so much, and I couldn't get it out of my head that the reason she was so emotional was because of the baby. They say women get very emotional when they're pregnant, with hormones messing everything up. It could only be that, but there was also the weight of Kwon's death, the kick, the fear she felt. It was too much for anyone to handle.

Some time later, the Miyagi-Do staff arrived in force to talk to Tory, asking if she was okay, how she was dealing with everything. Robby was among them, his shoulders tense, his face serious as he listened from afar. Devon was the first to speak, approaching the stretcher with a worried look on her face.

"Tory, are you really okay? It doesn't hurt at all, right?" Devon asked, his voice soft but full of care as he looked at her.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine, Devon. Just a little sore, but… It's okay," Tory replied, forcing a weak smile. She looked at Samantha, who was nearby, and continued. "Besides… Thank you, Larusso, for helping me out back then. If it weren't for you getting me out of that mess, I could have been in a lot worse shape."

Samantha smiled at her, a small but genuine smile. "It's okay, Tory. I know you'd do the same for me in a situation like this. But seriously, you shouldn't even be in this tournament, right?" She raised an eyebrow, her tone light but loaded with something more.

"!!!" Everyone was surprised by Samantha's words. Their eyes widened, and the air became thick with curiosity.

"What do you mean by that, daughter?" Daniel asked, turning to Sam with a confused face, his arms still crossed.

"Yeah, what was that, Samantha?" Johnny said, frowning as he looked at her, his suspicion now divided between Tory and Sam.

"I don't think it's my place to tell you guys about this," Samantha replied calmly but firmly. "Tory will tell you when she wants to." She took a step back, the weight of her words hanging in the air, and everyone was even more surprised. What did she mean by that? Silence fell like a stone, eyes darting from Sam to Tory.

I was listening to all this a little embarrassed, my hands in my pockets as I tried to keep a low profile. It was clear that Samantha knew Tory was pregnant—how long had she known? I had no idea, but the way she said it made it clear that she had been keeping this secret for a while. I looked at Tory, and she was thinking, her face red with embarrassment as everyone stared at her. Then she looked up at me for support, and I nodded, signaling for her to tell the truth.

"I'm pregnant…" Tory said, her voice low but firm, cutting through the silence like a knife.

"!!!!!!!!!!!!" Almost everyone froze when she said that. The shock was evident on everyone's faces—eyes wide, mouths open, as if the ground had dropped out from beneath them. Devon took a step back, putting a hand to his forehead, while Daniel and Johnny exchanged a quick glance, trying to make sense of what they had heard. Robby, who had been quiet until then, stood still, his fists clenched tightly at his sides. He loved Tory—I knew it, everyone knew it—and hearing that she was pregnant, that she was carrying my child, hit him like a punch to the gut. His eyes darkened for a second, his jaw clenched, but he held himself together, swallowing what he felt. He wasn't going to let anyone see how much it hurt, but I saw the way he looked away, taking a deep breath to keep his composure.

After a while, everyone went home. The Sekai Taikai gymnasium was empty, the lights flickering as the last echoes of the commotion faded. Tory didn't go to Clark's right now—she needed to go home to run some errands, get some clothes, and talk to her grandmother about what had happened. He told her to call if she needed anything, but she just shook her head, still shaken, her eyes red from crying. Clark drove back alone, the weight of the day crushing him as he drove through the dark streets, his head full of guilt, anger, and a relief that didn't seem real. The radio was off, the silence trapping him in his own thoughts—Kwon's death, Tory's kick in the stomach, the baby he'd almost lost because of his stupidity. He just wanted to get home, take a shower, and try to erase the day from his mind.

Upon arriving, Clark parked his car in the garage and walked up the porch steps, keys jingling in his hand. But before he could open the door, he felt a chill on the back of his neck, as if someone had been staring at him for too long. He looked up and there it was—someone waiting for him, someone he never thought he'd see in this world. A man in an impeccable suit, with slicked-back black hair, leaning casually against the wall of the house, a crooked smile playing on his lips. He held a glass of whiskey that clearly didn't belong in the house, the amber liquid swirling as he stared at Clark with a mixture of amusement and disdain.

"Look, you made me wait a long time, boy…" said the man, his voice soft but sharp, full of a mocking tone as he pushed himself away from the wall, straightening his body with supernatural elegance.

Clark stopped dead in his tracks, the keys falling from his hand and hitting the floor with a dull thud. "Who the hell are you?" he asked, his voice louder than he intended, his heart racing as he took a step back. His wolf and vampire instincts screamed, warning him that this man wasn't human, but he didn't know what he was.

The man laughed, a low, amused sound that echoed across the porch, taking a sip of his whiskey before answering. "Lucifer Morningstar, at your service. The devil himself, if you will. And you, Clark, are my newest… Inconvenience." He tossed his glass aside, the glass shattering on the porch floor as if it were worthless, and took a step toward Clark, his smile growing colder.

"Lucifer? Are you messing with me?" Clark took another step back, his hands clenching into fists as he tried to understand what was happening. "What do you want with me? I didn't do anything to you!" Shit, what the hell is this guy doing here, Clark thought…

Lucifer tilted his head, studying Clark with dark eyes that seemed to pierce his soul. "The truth is, Clark, I'm doing this simply because I want to. You came into this world a few years ago, and I saw it. That letter Father gave you… He marked you, made you special to Him. And that's why you can't stay here living happily like this." He took a step closer, his tone getting harder, filled with a resentment that Clark didn't understand. "You're one of His darlings, and I can't stand to see Him winning. So I'm going to take everything from you, to make Him suffer for it."

"Letter? What letter? What are you talking about?" Clark asked, confusion mixed with anger as he stared at him, the weight of Lucifer's words hitting him like a punch. "I don't know about any letter, and I didn't ask to be special to anyone!"

Lucifer laughed again, this time with a hint of bitterness, and stopped a few feet away from Clark, the air growing heavy, almost suffocating. "You didn't have to ask, Clark. He chose you anyway—you're a mistake that shouldn't exist in this world. I saw that letter, written in His perfect handwriting, giving you this life, this strength, this destiny. It drives me crazy, you know? So I'm going to erase everything—your memories, your girls, your children. And then what? I'm going to throw you somewhere no one will find you." He raised his hand, his fingers snapping with a sound that cut through the silence of the night, and a wave of heat hit Clark, throwing him against the door with a force he couldn't resist.

"Get your hands off me!" Clark screamed, trying to move, but his body was locked, as if invisible strings were holding him back. His vision began to blur, Lucifer's face blurring as he fought to stay conscious, panic rising in his throat.

"I'm not going to touch you, Clark," Lucifer said, his tone almost playful as his eyes glowed a subtle red. "I'm just going to rip out everything that makes you you. No memories, no happiness, no nothing. A gift for my father—and a pleasure for me." He snapped his fingers again, and everything went black. The memories—Tory, Sam, Hayley, the babies, the life he'd built, Clark's very existence—began to slip from his head like water running through his hands. He tried to hold on, to grab any piece of them, but it was like trying to hold on to smoke. Then he felt a tug, as if the ground had dropped out from beneath him, and when he opened his eyes, he was in the middle of a forest, the smell of damp earth and pine trees filling the air. Tall trees surrounded him, the sky dark above, and he had no idea where he was or who he was. Lucifer stood before him for a moment, the satisfied smile still on his face.

"There," Lucifer said, patting Clark on the shoulder. "Welcome to nowhere, Clark, or should I say Gabriel? A forest far from your 'home'. See you later… Or not." He laughed, a sound that echoed through the trees, and disappeared in a blink, leaving Clark standing there, lost, with no name, no past, just a void in his head where his entire life used to be.

Time passed. Months turned into years, and Samantha, Tory, and the entire Miyagi-Do group began searching everywhere for Clark. Posters were plastered on streets, stores, and highways—"Missing: Clark, black hair, green eyes, 6'1"—rewards were offered, every corner of Los Angeles and beyond was searched, but he had disappeared without a trace. The police investigated, the Sekai Taikai judges gave statements, private detectives were hired, but nothing turned up. Clark had become a ghost, lost in a forest thousands of miles away, with no idea who he had been.

Meanwhile, Tory's son with Clark was born—a strong boy she named Ethan. He came into the world months after Clark's disappearance, in a difficult birth that Tory endured with Samantha and her family by her side at the hospital. Ethan inherited his father's features: messy black hair like Clark's, but what stood out most were his heterochromatic eyes, one bright green like Clark's and the other blue like Tory's, a perfect fusion of the two. Samantha also had her baby with Clark—a girl named Chloe, born a month later. Chloe took after Samantha more in appearance, with light brown hair falling in soft curls, but her eyes, like her heterochromatic brother's, one of them blue from her mother and the other red from her father's vampire side, carrying a spark that reminded her of who he had been. The two mothers, now "widows" of a man who disappeared without explanation, supported each other. All of Clark's money—millions accumulated from fights, investments, and other sources that no one even remembered where they came from—was placed in Tory's hands, since she was considered his "wife" and Ethan was his son. The judges decided to divide a portion with Samantha to take care of Chloe, recognizing that she also carried Clark's blood. With this fortune, they would never have to work again, living a financially secure life, but emotionally marked by his absence.

The tragedy and Clark's disappearance brought Tory and Samantha together in an unexpected way. Their fighting, their jealousy, their past rivalries—it all stopped. They became like sisters, caring for each other through their grief, sharing the pain and responsibilities of raising Ethan and Chloe. Tory moved into the same neighborhood as Samantha, both houses filled with photos of Clark that they kept as a reminder, the "missing" posters still tacked to the walls like a silent cry for hope. They helped keep the children happy, telling them stories about Clark—how he lived his life, how he won their hearts, how he disappeared without a trace. They never gave up hope of finding him, kept searching, hiring detectives, following rumors, but years passed, and he was simply gone. No one knew that Clark was wandering and living in a remote forest, with no name, no past, a stranger in a world that didn't recognize him.

Now, sixteen years later, a young man, about six feet tall, with black hair falling over his forehead, one green eye and one blue, shining with an intensity and a serious face no one could ignore, was preparing to leave. Ethan was the spitting image of his father, Clark—a near-perfect copy. He was leaving, backpack on his back, a steely determination in his eyes as he left the home he shared with his mother and Chloe. Ethan had heard stories all his life about his father—how he won over his "mothers," how he disappeared out of nowhere without a trace. He had grown up watching the pain in Tory's eyes, the tears she tried to hide when she thought no one was looking, the weight of grief that never left her. "I don't want to see my family suffer anymore," he said to himself, his voice firm as he tied his sneakers. "My mother suffers a lot because of all this, I could see it in her eyes, but time passes for her. She's just a normal human... But I'm different, someone who has power but doesn't know how to use it. So Ethan got on his father's motorcycle, the Harley-Davidson that his father had left behind, and headed to the only place where he thought he would find clues, Mystic Falls...