Before he even has a name, Riccardo has a body rising from the water and a breath struggling to return.
He doesn't know who he is.
He knows only that someone, somewhere, is waiting for him — and that this someone has the face of a woman who appears to him intermittently, like a light flickering on and off in the fog of memory.
So begins a journey through forests, abandoned houses, and men broken by war: a blind man who sees beyond the darkness more clearly than anyone; a woman carrying new life inside her while everything around her dies; a house that isn't his but that, for a moment, seems as though it could become his. Each encounter is an island in a wider sea — a leg of the voyage, a fragment of who Riccardo once was or might still become. But a return is never just a road to be travelled. It is a reckoning with his own memory, his own guilt, with the very idea of home — which perhaps, like the face that guides him, was never just a place. OR[sea] is the story of a man in search of his origin, a journey suspended between life and its shadow, where every step toward home is also a step toward the truth of who he really is.