A seventh chord. Unresolved.
“Don’t listen,” Kiri whispered.
The sky over Tokyo hadn’t been blue in eleven years. 7th dragon
“Small True Dragon,” Kiri repeated dryly. “As if there’s such a thing.” A seventh chord
The nest opened into an old concert hall. Chairs were overturned. The stage lights still worked, casting dusty beams onto the floor. And there, coiled around the grand piano, was the True Dragon. A seventh chord. Unresolved. “Don’t listen
Itsuki grinned, cracked his knuckles, and strummed a chord that shimmered gold in the air. “Hey. That’s why we’re the 7th Unit. We do the stupid jobs.”
