Jongho stepped out of his home in the early morning hours and left his dad in the land of dreams. He didn't need to wake him to go out, and like this, he would dodge his wrath towards Youjin's chef.

Given the character of most of his jobs, Jongho could not blame him. But Youjin's chef was also Jongho's chef at many times.

Before Jongho sought him out, he delivered another commission first. One of the engineers nearby had needed him to build a steam-powered motor, so he could further use it for his inventions. Jongho had spent his night finishing the machine and putting all the little pieces together with great patience. His bunny had sweetened the long and cold hours with its soft melodies, but as soon as Jongho dropped the thing off, he allowed himself to sigh behind his mask.

It was all the same. An endless circle of work and tiredness. The people of Zey worked like a well-oiled machine. They were the interior of a clock, countless little cogs that had to fit perfectly together to work. And Asora, mighty and beautiful Asora in the distance was the clock face. The clock only worked because of Zey's people, but its face neither knew that nor did it have to care. It would continue ticking away as long as the tiny cogs were running.

Jongho had drawn his shoulders in as he marched through the narrow alleys. As he dodged people with twists and turns of his torso, he tried not to touch a single one of them. He didn't want to get too close.

As usual, Zey was grey. Zey was grey at any time of the day, even when the sun stood high since the tall buildings overshadowed the narrow alleys. At least it wasn't wet today, and Jongho could hurry through the loud and busy districts in peace.

Youjin was nowhere in sight when Jongho arrived. His boss lived in another poverty-stricken home between other homes. His door was deformed out of the frame and let a sliver of light fall through when Jongho rapped his gloved fingers against the grimy wood.

"Come in! It's open!"

Foolish idiot. Leaving doors open in Zey was nearly as deadly as offering help.

Jongho left the gloomy ghetto behind for a moment when he stepped inside. He had been here often, whenever it took him to run around the city and collect some good from a faraway place. The boss was not as poor as most people here, given the opportunities for his job. Yet, he didn't show off. He lived in the same penury as they all did, or else his house would probably get robbed from him under his feet.

Jongho didn't make an effort to pull his boots off. Instead, he directed his gaze right at the man who lounged in a chair that was not nearly as brittle as Jongho's was. The man nursed a cup of tea, and he offered Jongho one, too, but he gruffly declined.

"Well, you came for the job, didn't you?"

"What else would bring me here? Do you think I have the time to play around and visit friends?"

The middle-aged man laughed into his fist until his giggled transformed into painful coughs. Jongho crossed his arms and waited until he finished.

By the time he had calmed again, his face was red and contorted in a grimace. Jongho figured he had the air sickness that slowly ate away at him.

"Fair, boy. But you might want to sit down for this job. I'm about to introduce you to a new area full of treasures. Let's call in an upgrade. You have been to Asora before, haven't you?"

Jongho regarded the man with narrow eyes. He was not an enemy, that much was clear, but the implications behind his words had Jongho doubt him naturally.

"Yeah. But Asora is not exactly easy to enter or leave."

Jongho had been lucky the one time he had crossed the Chasm. He had been alone, as he always was, but he had followed the steps of a moronic group of friends that had sworn to overtake the town or something like that. He had gone over safely and looked around for a bit before leaving again. Blending in was difficult for him, and while Asora had fewer security systems since they trusted each other, the area near the Chasm was risky. That did not keep many of Zey's youths from trying, though.

Even back then, Jongho had snorted disbelievingly at the city. They lived in luxury and laughter as if they didn't see the poor and dying slums on the other side of the cliff. Their streets were big and pretty, they wore clean and expensive clothing, and the royal family was praised for their hard work everywhere.

It had been sickening to watch. Maybe Yunho had been right about them all being a bunch of stuck-up idiots.

"I know just the man for you. He works in the canyon as a secret service to transgress. A dangerous job, but he established himself well enough that they leave him alone." The boss waggled his eyebrows at Jongho as if this was something to celebrate. Icily, Jongho stared him down until he continued with a roll of his eyes.

"The item you will steal is kept in a wooden box and looks about like this. We don't know where in the house it is, but it shouldn't be too difficult to find once you're in the right room. As always, you can take as much other stuff as you can carry."

Jongho nodded slowly, still mulling it over in his head. The payment would be grand for a job just like this, and it could get his father through a few more months without Jongho having to worry too much. He was confident enough in himself to try at least. If the Chasm spooked him too much, he could still leave.

"Fine." He snatched the folded piece of paper from the boss and looked at it. It pictured a device of some sort that seemed similar to a fuse and certainly would not work by its own. It was not his business to pry into the client's business and ask what it was, but he could not help to tilt his head to stare at it quizzically.

"How is your dad?"

"No personal questions," Jongho snapped immediately. He neatly tucked the paper in his chest pocket where it was safe under the shoulder piece that his arm's metal gadget ended in.

The boss nearly rolled his eyes at him again but stuck to crossing his legs only.

"I'm not asking for you, but his sake. Learn to trust, kid." He shook his head bemusedly. Jongho didn't find the situation particularly funny, but he tried to relax his shoulders for the sake of this man that had known his father back when both of them were still working at the factory.

"He's holding on. I see no betterment yet, but he also doesn't get worse. He talks about Asorazey and the Undying a lot these days."

Many people did. Their displeasure with the king that they didn't address as such had most of them keep their dark thoughts to themselves, but others openly spit on the street whenever he was mentioned. Given the status of Zey, the slums of a glorious city that were being disregarded by their immortal king, much despair and fury had accumulated over the years.

Jongho personally didn't feel too connected with the topic. It had been nearly two hundred years since the city had been divided, after all. The younger generation could hardly relate to the change anymore. They all had accepted the role they played in their society and barely cared about the king and his family in the castle of Asora.

"I've been hearing about it from a few people by now, yes. It seems that with his firstborn finally coming of age many people hope that the old king might get replaced. It's a hot topic, even here."

Jongho had heard about the prince and his difference from his father before, but he didn't trust the rumours. If anything, a new king could always make it worse. Even that precious prince had never even dared to visit Zey; he cared that much.

"I don't think he would be able to unite anything in this lifetime. Nature played a cruel trick on us by sending the earthquake. Even if we build bridges and travel safely, one group will always be divided from the other. Asorazey is an item of the past."

The boss nodded at Jongho's bitter judgement. His face was still pensive, but with little true hope behind it.

"You are right. In this lifetime, we won't get anywhere. As I said, that is also only if the king steps down and his son does better than he. Wishful thinking."

Jongho tipped his forehead as he pulled his mask tight around his face.

"Time to eat the rich. See you around."

"Tell your father to get better soon. I want to run the king's family down with him."

With the hint of a smile lifting Jongho's lips, he stepped out again. The talk about the flippant king and his useless son, who was nothing more than another pretty face on paper had made him hungry. He blended into the masses as he made his way to one of the many food courts that offered nutrition at low prices. He bought some soup and bread for his dad. Then some bowl of rice and various other ingredients that would give his body at least some of the strength it needed for himself.

He knew that he ate too little to keep up with his cruel life for long. The slums were unforgiving with the diseases and winters it brought. Coupled with the bad air and the amount of work they all had to do to get by, the bits of food he got were unsufficient. Jongho liked to think about himself as a machine that spluttered and groaned under the last few bits of fuel that kept it going. At least it made funny noises in his mind.

Jongho sat on one of the many roofs of Zey in the direction where the wind didn't blow as he wolfed down his food. His once white shirt that had become a dark beige with the layer of dirt that coloured it fluttered in the wind as he regarded Asora.

The castle at the centre of the city grew into the air with its white towers and the colourful airships of the fleet that constantly surrounded it. It looked down mightily over the town and over the cliff to Zey that laid in the distance like a festering sore in anybody's sight.

Jongho wondered what the old king saw when he looked out of the window. Was he blinded by his own success with Asora and blatantly disregarded Zey? Or had he completely forgotten about the people that worked to the death to allow him a fruitful life?

Jongho liked to think that his anger at his situation and the king were unimportant and fleeting. Day by day, he pretended not to care and to have lost his spirit in the ditch they had been left in long ago.

However, he cared. He cared too much. His intense need to break the rules and to change the current predicament had pushed him to accept this job even when he promised his father not to. Jongho was one of many, just one of a million tiny cogs.

But Jongho was a mechanic; he had grown up with machines.

If even one cog inside the clockwork didn't turn anymore, the whole machine was rendered useless. In his youthful dreams, Jongho liked to believe that he would be the one to stop turning and to change things. But soon, he had learned that the clockwork that this society had grown into was exchangeable. If one cog disappeared, another one filled its place. Jongho was not important enough to stop the scary monster of an engine that this city had become.

But as an adult, Jongho had learned to make use of his pettiness. Nobody cared for the tiny exchangeable ones. Hence why he felt confident stealing from them. They had brought that upon themselves by ignoring him.

Jongho finished his bowl and stood. As he brought the dishes back to the vendor, all the possibilities how he could cross the Chasm filled his mind. He would have to take another look at the head of a broken automaton he had found a while ago to figure out their weak spots once more. If he dodged them and found his supplier, then nothing would stand between him and Asora.

He decided to depart the next night when the automatons' sight was weak, and Asora slumbered peacefully in their beds while Zey never stopped to work.