Dawnfire

The morning after Halloween, 2025. The world wakes to static, silence, and fire. Without warning, Russia, China, and North Korea launch a coordinated invasion of the United States. The first missiles strike satellite uplinks and power grids; the second wave brings paratroopers and cyber strikes. By dawn, the Midwest is a warzone. Ashfield, Iowa — a quiet farming town with more tractors than people — becomes one of the first landing zones. Russian paratroopers seize the grain silos and water tower. Chinese officers arrive days later to organize logistics, while stranded North Korean units prowl the countryside, half-starved and half-mad. The invasion isn’t neat — it’s chaos, occupation, and fear stitched together by propaganda. Electricity is gone. The government is silent. The roads are death traps patrolled by foreign convoys and deserters. The people of Ashfield are left to fend for themselves — farmers, deputies, outcasts turned into soldiers overnight. Among them rise fractured heroes and bitter survivors: Caleb Raynor, the mechanic turned leader; Ellie Raines, the iron-willed farmer; Father Donnelly, a priest losing faith; Sarah “Vox” Keller, the unseen voice of resistance; and a handful of enemies who aren’t sure which side they belong to anymore. The enemy isn’t unified either. Russian brutality clashes with Chinese strategy. North Korean commandos go rogue in the forests. Mercenaries profit from both. Every side is fighting for control — but in the ruins of Ashfield, survival is its own flag. This is not a clean war. It’s fought with hunting rifles, radios, and desperation. There are no reinforcements coming, no promises of rescue. The fields burn, the skies hum with drones, and the world watches from behind dead screens. Welcome to occupied America. Welcome to Ashfield. Using Lewdleah's Autocards