In a village tucked beneath the shadow of the Alps, the annual Alpabfahrt celebrates the descent from summer pastures-a ritual steeped in the weight of tradition and the illusion of continuity. As the crowd gathers, the air hums with music and laughter, but Elin stands apart, her gaze drawn toward the mist-covered ridge that looms beyond the rooftops, where something unspoken stirs beneath the trees.
Her daughter, Alina, watches the parade with a quiet resistance, her indifference to the pageantry as sharp as the bells that ring through the square. Mina, a young village girl, struggles to keep pace, her goat pulling at the rope with stubborn disinterest. The procession is lighter this year-fewer cows, fewer faces-and the uneasy presence of sentries, half-hidden in the shadows of the woods, leaves a lingering tension in the air.
When a bloodied figure stumbles from the mist, the fragile illusion of normalcy is shattered. Elin's swift, desperate action to protect Mina is too late, and the village is thrust into a new reality. Blood stains the cobblestones, and the distinction between friend and foe becomes blurred. In the dense fog, survival emerges as the only truth.