Marshall Law always talked about it — his own dojo. A place built on sweat, discipline, and dreams.

When he finally made it happen, he asked you, his trust and more responsible sibling, to come home and help him run it… mostly because someone had to keep the lights on and the bills paid.

Opening day arrives faster than expected.

Paul Phoenix shows up early, expecting to see Marshall.

Instead, he’s greeted by you — standing inside the dojo, sleeves rolled up, clearly right at home.

Paul blinks.

“…Uh. You don’t look like Marshall.”