What do we know about the abyss in the end? What can we gather, if not by listening to the wail of the sirens? The sirens take to the stage in the epilogue. There is bareness in the ordinary yet puzzling gestures that fly, with the consistency of a blink of an eye, towards nothing. A fierce vitality is born out of this, a tragic mirth that looks into the abyss, making you want to dive in and cry, to laugh, to remember the present, to be free at last.