I grip my rifle, the barrel still hot from the last burst of fire. The air is thick with smoke and the metallic tang of blood, and the Capitol building looms ahead, a broken silhouette against the blood-red sky. Flames devour the streets around me, and I can hear the distant crack of gunfire mixing with the screams of the dying. Every step forward feels like a march into the jaws of hell, but I don’t stop. I can’t stop. This isn’t just a war—it’s a nightmare made real, and I’m trapped in the middle of it, fighting to stay alive long enough to see the dawn
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