Eagle Sauce: The 055 destroyer was launched into the sea just after the founding of the country?

Soon, the District of Columbia National Guard, which was on standby around Capitol Hill, received an order to go to the White House to "maintain order."

Dozens of military Humvees and armored personnel carriers struggled to squeeze through the crowd amid the people's curses and thrown debris, and set up a defense line made of steel and human flesh on the lawn in front of the White House.

Thousands of National Guard soldiers, wearing helmets, gas masks, riot gear, and holding riot shields and M16 rifles, formed three layers of dense human walls, completely isolating the White House from the angry crowd.

Their eyes were filled with tension, confusion, and a hint of subtle fear. They had been ordered to "defend the White House at all costs," but they were not facing foreign invaders, but their own compatriots—the same American citizens who paid taxes and sang the national anthem as they did.

The standoff began.

On one side are millions of emotional and angry people, who are like a flood about to burst the dam, constantly hitting the dam formed by the National Guard.

On the other side, the well-equipped and well-trained National Guard stood like a reef, enduring wave after wave of attacks.

"A traitor's lackey!"

"Lay down your weapons! Stand with the people!"

Angry mobs pelted soldiers with rocks, bottles, eggs and even burning Molotov cocktails.

Some veterans, relying on their experience, began to organize the crowd, using dismantled roadside guardrails and trash cans as cover to launch wave after wave of attacks on the defense line.

"Keep the formation! No retreat!"

The commander of the National Guard shouted at the top of his lungs through a loudspeaker.

The soldiers' riot shields were smashed and some soldiers screamed in pain when their trouser legs were set on fire by Molotov cocktails.

But they still hold their defense line tightly, because behind them is the power center of the Eagle Sauce.

At four o'clock in the afternoon, as the sun set, the public's anger reached its peak.

They began to work together to tear down the iron fence surrounding the White House. With the combined strength of thousands of people, a section of the fence, about 20 meters long, collapsed with a sharp, cracking sound.

"Go in! Catch those traitors!"

The crowd poured into the lawn in front of the White House like a flood.

"Open fire! Use non-lethal weapons!" The commander finally gave the order to suppress.

"Bang! Bang! Bang!"

Rows of tear gas canisters and rubber bullets fired into the crowd like hail.

The lawn was instantly filled with pungent white smoke, and many people were choked by tear gas, crying and falling to the ground, coughing painfully.

Some of those who were at the front were hit by rubber bullets and groaned in pain.

However, instead of dispersing the crowd, this aroused even stronger anger among them.

"They're shooting at us! These traitorous lackeys are shooting at the people!"

The surviving people covered their mouths and noses with wet towels, braved the thick smoke and rain of bullets, and launched a more fierce attack on the National Guard's defense line.

Some even picked up stones and guardrails from their fallen companions and continued to fight.

The lawn in front of the White House has completely turned into a bloody battlefield.

A young National Guard soldier named John, only nineteen years old.

He gripped his rifle nervously, watching the hellish scene before him. A gray-haired old woman, choked by tear gas, knelt on the ground, but still struggled to throw stones at them, cursing "murderers."

A middle-aged man who looked about the same age as his father was hit in the chest by a rubber bullet, his T-shirt stained red with blood, but he still waved the American flag in his hand and shouted "Revenge for the President."

John's heart was shaken.

He began to wonder what he was defending.

Should we defend the American flag in the White House, or defend the politicians hiding in the White House and betraying the entire country?

Just as he lost consciousness, a brick came flying and hit his helmet.

He felt dizzy and staggered back a few steps.

One of his comrades immediately pulled him behind him and used a riot shield to block another flying stone.

"Wake up, John! They've gone crazy!" his comrades shouted at him.

In the crowd, an old soldier named Mike was commanding a small group of people, using the terrain and smoke cover to try to break through the defense line from the flank.

Mike had participated in the Peninsular War and knew how to organize an effective attack in such a chaotic situation.

"Team three, suppress their firepower points with Molotov cocktails! Team one, follow me, charge from the left!"

"The target is that armored vehicle. If we take it down, we can tear open a hole!"

Mike commanded loudly.

After a few minutes, the National Guard's defense line finally began to loosen.

Led by Mike and others, hundreds of protesters successfully broke through a weak link and engaged in a brutal hand-to-hand combat with the soldiers.

Batons collided with iron rods, fists clashed with shields, and roars and screams mixed together.

A National Guard soldier was knocked to the ground by several angry people and was instantly submerged in the crowd.

On the other side, Mike used a crowbar to hit a soldier's helmet hard, knocking him unconscious.

The entire Washington was plunged into unprecedented chaos.

Inside the White House, the new president and his staff watched everything happening outside through the surveillance screen with dejected expressions.

They underestimated public anger and overestimated the deterrent power of the National Guard.

"Shoot... give the order to shoot! Use live ammunition!" the California senator screamed again, his voice becoming unusually shrill with fear. "If we don't stop them, they will rush in! Then we will all die!"

The new president's face was pale and his lips were trembling. He was unable to issue the order that would completely change the history of the United States.

Shooting at their own people?

This will make him the most brutal president in American history and he will be nailed to the pillar of shame forever.

But the shouting and screaming outside the window was getting closer and closer, and the glass was even cracked by the flying stones.

The fear of death ultimately overcame concerns about historical evaluation.

"Authorization...authorization to use lethal force..." He finally gave the evil order in an almost inaudible voice.

The order was quickly transmitted to the commander at the front via radio waves. The commander was stunned for a moment, as if he couldn't believe his ears.

But he finally gritted his teeth and, through the loudspeaker, issued an order to all the soldiers that would bring him restless rest for the rest of his life:

"Attention all units! Use of lethal force authorized!"

"Repeat! Authorize the use of lethal force! Open fire freely on anyone attempting to storm the White House!"

"Crack! Click!"

On the National Guard's defense line, the sound of uniform bolts being pulled could be heard.

The crisp metallic sound seemed particularly harsh and ominous in the chaotic battlefield.

Veteran Mike had just led his men to plant a huge American flag on an overturned police car.

He was just about to raise his arms and lead more people to attack the last line of defense of the White Death Palace.

Suddenly, he saw the National Guard soldiers opposite him raise their M16 rifles in unison, pointing the black muzzles at them.

Mike's heart sank suddenly, and an ominous premonition came over him.

The next second, flames burst out.

"Da da da da da..."

The dense, frying-bean-like sound of gunfire completely replaced the previous chaotic noise.

Automatic rifles spewed out deadly tongues of fire, and countless bullets formed a barrage of death, sweeping madly towards the unarmed crowd.

Mike, who was rushing in the front, was hit in the chest by several bullets in an instant. The huge kinetic energy pushed him back hard.

He lowered his head in disbelief, looking at the blood blooming on his chest, his eyes filled with anger, unwillingness and endless confusion.

He didn't understand why the soldiers defending the country would point their guns at their own people.

He fell down, and the American flag in his hand slowly fell on the blood-stained lawn.

The massacre began.

In the face of the dense rain of bullets, the crowd fell down in large numbers like wheat harvested by a sickle.

Screams, cries, and pleas for mercy, intertwined with the ruthless gunfire, formed a symphony of hell on earth.

Blood dyed the lawn in front of the White House red, and the steps of the building that symbolizes freedom and democracy red.

Young soldier John, with his eyes closed, pulled the trigger, tears streaming down his cheeks.

He didn't know who he shot. He only knew that the moment he pulled the trigger, something precious in his heart died.

The dusk in Washington was dyed a shocking dark red by gunfire, flames and blood.

The lighthouse that was once regarded as the "city on the hill" completely extinguished its light at this moment and fell into endless darkness and chaos.

And the instigator of all this is hiding in the distant Kremlin, watching with a cold smile the self-destruction of a superpower that he personally directed...