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は、ははははははははっ

随分身軽にしてくれたな? 色々な感情と逡巡のなかから、何とか言葉を絞り出した。 気絶したメイの身体をゆっくり地面に降ろす。 出血が無いのも雨と泥で気付かれはしないだろう。 なら、あとはオレ次第だ。 ジェイクはこちらの様子をうかがいながら銃口を下ろさない。 脅迫者は足元に転がった誰かのハンドガンを拾い上げた。 オレに回収されて使われないようにだろう。 この手に銃の一つもあれば、お前を蜂の巣にしてやりたい所だが・・・ 敢えて刺激するような言葉を口にした。 撃つ気配はない。 カミカゼの切り札を失うわけにはいかないのだろう。 ならば・・・ いいぞ。お前とのカミカゼデートに付き合ってやる。 ポイントは撤収予定だった基地方面で良いのか? 「随分、急に宗旨替えするんですね?」 お前のせいだよクソ野郎。失うものは何もない。 だが向こうには家族とガースキーにメイ、おそらくダグラス司令達も居る。 ならヒト暴れして土産話でも持って行ってやるさ。 カチャリ・・とジェイクが銃を下ろした。 「良かった。戻られたんですね?そこのガキと一緒になってから、隊長弱くなっていたんですよ。技術的なモノじゃなくて、人間として」 イラつきからか、銃口が倒れたメイの頭部にへと・・・ そうだな。しかしお前はあの世でガースキーと一緒にブチOす。 今のオレはそれだけが楽しみだ。 逃げるんじゃないぞ? 言葉で牽制してその動きを止めた。 「おお、怖い。でもそうでなくっちゃ。これからまた山ほど敵を屠ってもらうんですから」 本心がこもっていたのか圧を飛ばしたらしい。 脅迫者は肩をすくめて銃を下ろす。 で、どっちが先にMSに乗り込むんだ? モタモタしていたら連邦軍がこっちに来るかもしれんだろう。 「…ッ・・」 先にMSに乗った方が力関係のイニシアティブを取れる。 しかし搭乗するための移動や起動の隙に逃げられるかもしれない。 ジェイクの逡巡が手に取るように分かった。 お先にどうぞ。 オレは妻を担いでいかなければならないから時間がかかる。 「連れて行くんですね」 野犬の餌になるのも忍びない。それにハネムーンの途中なんだ。最後まで付き合ってもらうさ・・お前もガースキーの骸をどうにかして欲しい。 「聞けませんね。野郎と・・・しかも骸とデートなんて趣味じゃないので」 周囲に逃走に使えそうな車両が無い事を確認して、後ずさりでザクへと移動する。 銃はまた向けられている。 それを意にも介さないように、ゆっくりとメイの身体を抱き上げた ・・・動いてくれるなよ?

#Jungle#Dual wielding#Handgun#Beretta 92#M1911A1#Forest#Bamboo Forest#Aiming#aiming at viewer#Finger on trigger#Fog#Knee pads#Body Armor
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Prompts on PixAI are public by default, but creators can hide them on any artwork they publish. The creator of this one chose to, so the words used to generate the image stay private — only they can see them. Hiding a prompt doesn't change anything else: the artwork is still public, and you can like, comment on and share it as usual.
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copyright: muv-luv 1girl, solo, short hair, olive green hair, layered bangs, ears visible, amber eyes, smirk, looking at viewer, athletic build, cowboy shot, from below, low angle, pilot suit, bodysuit, purple and white bodysuit, composite armor plates, neck ring, gauntlets, adjusting glove, holding helmet, flight helmet tucked under arm, hangar, catwalk, steel grating, yellow gantry crane, industrial cables, rim light, volumetric lighting, depth of field From below, in a cowboy shot, the young pilot stands angled three-quarters along an elevated steel-grate catwalk, advancing with her body weight planted firmly onto her forward right combat boot. She has neatly cropped olive-green hair with feathered bangs framing her brow, leaving her ears unobstructed, and bright amber eyes fixed directly upon the viewer beneath an intrepid, lopsided smirk. She wears a form-fitting pilot fortified suit crafted from high-gloss deep violet and pristine white panels, joined by matte charcoal elastomer seals at the waist, knees, and elbows, anchored by a reinforced cervical collar ring at the neck and a small cyan telemetry diode glowing faintly at the sternum. Her right upper arm clamps a glossy flight helmet firmly against her hip, its curved tinted visor catching sharp studio reflections, while her left gloved hand reaches across her chest to pull tight the reinforced composite cuff at her opposite wrist. The catwalk's safety rail borders her right flank, opening into a vast industrial hangar where the towering gunmetal silhouettes of mechanical combat units rest beneath heavy overhead gantry cranes and suspended power umbilicals. Stark, cool-white floodlights beam downward from the upper right, carving brilliant specular gleams along the suit's lacquered armor segments and casting crisp cast shadows beneath her heavy boot treads, while an amber safety beacon in the background washes a warm rim light along the left contours of her shoulders and cropped hair. Low across the deck, pressurized coolant mist vents horizontally across the perforated floor plates, shearing cleanly into turbulent curling eddies only where it strikes the soles of her planted boots. The palette is held to royal violet, clean white, slate metal, and amber hazard highlights. Steely resolve.
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