Cobra Kai: The Lust System

Michael Roberts had always been the kind of guy who got what he wanted. He was a charmer, a smooth talker, and he knew how to get under a woman's skin in all the right ways. From high school through his adult years, he'd never struggled to find attention. But tonight, things were different.

He'd met a woman at a bar, someone who seemed a little more sophisticated than his usual flings. She was beautiful, her dark eyes full of mystery, her body leaning in just enough to keep him hooked. They exchanged playful banter, teasing touches, and it didn't take long before Michael was convinced she was exactly what he needed.

"Let's get out of here," she whispered in his ear, her lips brushing against his skin. Michael didn't hesitate. He was used to the game, used to the chase. But what he didn't know—what he should have known—was that he was walking straight into a trap.

They ended up at her apartment, a cozy place with an air of expensive taste. It was all so easy. The tension, the chemistry—it was as if everything was aligned. She pulled him into her bedroom, and before long, they were tangled in the sheets. But just as things were starting to heat up, Michael heard a noise from the other room.

"What's that?" he asked, his curiosity piqued.

The woman froze, a nervous laugh escaping her lips. "Don't worry about it. It's nothing."

But Michael's instincts told him something wasn't right. He tried to push the thought aside, but then he heard the door open.

"Hey babe, I'm back," a voice called, rich with arrogance.

Michael's eyes widened. His heart skipped a beat. This wasn't supposed to happen.

The woman's face paled as the man stepped into view. He was tall, with a broad chest and a confident swagger. He had a look of someone who was used to being in control—someone who didn't take kindly to interruptions.

"Who the hell is this?" the man demanded.

It clicked in Michael's mind just a second too late. Her boyfriend.

The man's eyes narrowed as he looked at Michael, sizing him up. "You really thought you could just come into my house, sleep with my girl, and get away with it?"

Michael opened his mouth to explain, to make some excuse, but it was too late. The man didn't want words. He wanted action.

The woman stood there, silently watching, her face filled with regret as the tension between the men reached a breaking point. Michael, still not fully comprehending the danger he was in, tried to talk his way out.

"Look, man, I didn't know. She said she was single—"

Before he could finish, the man slammed his fist into Michael's chest, sending him stumbling backward. The guy was strong, way stronger than anyone Michael had ever encountered. This was no ordinary man.

The woman stepped back, her hand over her mouth as she watched the scene unfold. The man's eyes burned with fury as he advanced, grabbing Michael by the collar and shoving him onto the balcony.

"Do you know who I am?" the man growled, his breath hot with anger. "I'm a five-time karate world champion. And no one—no one—disrespects me like this."

Michael's brain struggled to process the words. Karate world champion? If he had known, he would have never—never—messed with this guy.

But it was too late.

The man's hands moved faster than Michael could react, grabbing him and pulling him toward the edge of the balcony. Michael tried to push back, to reason with him, but the words died in his throat. The man's grip was iron. There was no escape.

"Next time," the man spat, "you'll think twice before getting involved with someone like me."

In one swift motion, he kicked Michael hard in the chest, sending him flying backward. Michael's body crashed against the railing, and for a split second, everything seemed to freeze. Then, he was falling—falling fast and hard toward the pavement below.

His mind raced, but it was too late. The ground came rushing up to meet him, and with a sickening thud, everything went black.

...

Michael's world spun, his body limp, his mind floating in a sea of darkness. The sickening thud of his body hitting the ground had been the last thing he remembered. His chest had been crushed under the weight of reality, and it felt like his bones had shattered into pieces.

But then, nothing.

He had been sure he was dead. But now, a strange warmth and clarity began to seep through the void. The air smelled different—clean, fresh, and oddly familiar. He groggily opened his eyes, expecting to see a hospital room or the cold, dark abyss of the afterlife. But instead, he was staring at a ceiling—white tiles with fluorescent lights overhead. A classroom ceiling.

"Xander Wolfe!"

The voice pierced through the fog of his mind, and Michael's heart skipped a beat. Xander Wolfe? Who the hell was that? Was that his name? His chest tightened, his thoughts scrambling to make sense of what was happening. The voice was familiar, though he couldn't place it at first.

He tried to sit up, but his body felt strange. His limbs were smaller, lighter, and his chest—no longer the muscular physique of Michael Roberts—was flat and smooth. His eyes shot to his hands, slender and youthful. He was no longer the man he used to be. Was this some kind of sick joke?

The voice came again, this time sharper, more insistent. "Xander!"

His gaze snapped toward the front of the room, where a woman in her thirties stood with her arms crossed. She was watching him closely, her expression a mix of irritation and concern. Her blonde hair was pulled back into a neat ponytail, and her sharp eyes looked at him like she was waiting for him to snap out of it.

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Michael—Xander Wolfe—rubbed his face, blinking rapidly as he tried to piece it together. The classroom around him was filled with desks, students seated and looking in his direction, some laughing quietly. The hum of teenage chatter mixed with the low buzz of the fluorescent lights above. This wasn't his world.

To be continued...