Ralph

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The Lanky wails and pulls its head back, away from the gunfire. Then it lurches forward and rams its cranial shield into the hallway opening again. There’s a tortured groaning sound from overhead, and an avalanche of debris crashes down between us and the Lanky. I cover my head as the hallway turns completely dark.
Ralph
Lanky realizes humans are sentient
Angles of Attack (Frontlines, #3)
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