It is an approach to the figure of Fernando Martín Peña, but it is also a film about cinema, about a transcendental movement in its history, its spaces and rituals.

On 3 November 1995, the Rio Tercero Military Factory exploded in Cordoba, prompting thousands of projectiles to fire and spread in the surrounding villages, in a tragedy that would leave seven dead and hundreds injured and affected. At the time, Natalia Garayalde was a twelve-year-old girl who lived with her family near the place, and he was still playing filming with the video camera her father had bought, when she recorded the immediate moments of the burst, while her family escaped the explosions, as well as the daily activities of the village in the days and weeks that follow. Twenty-five years later, that material captured from a girl's candid and surprised gaze it becomes a thoughtful and painful testimony about the family, the destruction of a city, the traces of horror, the sinister truth about the case.

Reality, glowing with anxiety, is dissected and reconstructed through editing to generate blocks of pure image-sound through a precarious camera that, for several years, travels incessantly from the confines of underdevelopment to the heights of European prosperity. From a working-class neighborhood in Buenos Aires to St. Mark's Square in Venice. From prison to the plains.