PREVIEW
... ave for the static hum emanating from the purple aura surrounding Dayat’s body. Beads of cold sweat the size of corn kernels rolled down his temples, dripping past his nose, and falling onto the dusty concrete floor.
Dayat didn’t dare wipe the sweat. He couldn’t move. His entire concentration was sucked into maintaining the form of the terrifying object he was manifesting on his right shoulder.
An RPG-7 (Rocket-Propelled Grenade).
The iconic weapon of guerillas on Earth. ...
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