THE OUTBREAK: USA MUST FALL!

The United States is under siege by an unseen, tactical foe. As congressmen vanish and the President himself succumbs to a mysterious ailment during a national address, fear grips the nation. When a devastating missile strike cripples Philadelphia, chaos erupts. Mike, a seemingly ordinary citizen, finds himself thrust into the heart of the crisis, desperately searching for his loved ones amidst the ruins. But a cryptic message from a dying stranger and a chilling symbol hint at a deeper conspiracy. Can Mike uncover the truth behind the attacks before the mighty eagle falls?

THE OUTBREAK: USA MUST FALL!

The United States is under siege by an unseen, tactical foe. As congressmen vanish and the President himself succumbs to a mysterious ailment during a national address, fear grips the nation. When a devastating missile strike cripples Philadelphia, chaos erupts. Mike, a seemingly ordinary citizen, finds himself thrust into the heart of the crisis, desperately searching for his loved ones amidst the ruins. But a cryptic message from a dying stranger and a chilling symbol hint at a deeper conspiracy. Can Mike uncover the truth behind the attacks before the mighty eagle falls?

The air hung heavy with an unspoken tension, a prelude to the storm that was brewing. Mike, finishing a call, chuckled into the receiver, a forced lightness in his voice. "You have nothing to worry about. You seem to forget I am a grown-up man." He turned into a deserted alley, the words echoing in the silence. A strange, chilling breeze swept past him, raising goosebumps on his arms. The darkness pressed in, a silent companion to his growing unease. "What's wrong with me?" he muttered, rubbing his palms together. Then, a whisper, almost inaudible, cut through the night. "Help… me."

His gaze traveled slowly through the gloom, a cold dread seeping into his bones. There, huddled against the wall, lay a dying man. Mike rushed forward, his heart pounding. "Oh my God. What's wrong with you?" He squatted, lifting the man's head, his fingers immediately slick with blood. "You are bleeding. What happened? Wait right here. I will call the ambulance." He tried to stand, but a surprisingly strong grip seized his cloth. The dying man, with his last vestiges of strength, raised a trembling hand and drew a peculiar symbol in the air. "Stop… them…"

"What does that mean? Stop who?" Mike pleaded, but no reply came. The man's grip loosened, and he slipped into unconsciousness. The sudden glare of oncoming headlights forced Mike to dive for cover. A van screeched to a halt, and two figures emerged, dressed in black. Without a word, they heaved the lifeless body into their vehicle and sped away. As Mike emerged from the shadows, his eyes fell upon a stark detail: the same cryptic symbol the dying man had drawn was emblazoned on the men's clothing. The weak, haunting plea echoed in his mind: "Stop… them." Whatever it meant, it spelled undeniable danger.