The German military cemetery of the Futa is structured like a labyrinth. Over 30,000 soldiers are buried here. Their names engraved in stone; their presence suspended in the air. The seasons pass, the landscape changes. A place for the dead, but inhabited by the living. The Labyrinth is an investigation—into places, into time, into what lingers in memory. In the woods, body seekers uncover fragments of forgotten men. The caretaker catalogs the bones, patiently, meticulously. A theater company returns year after year, performing Thomas Mann’s The Magic Mountain among the graves, turning history into ritual. Archival footage, voices from the past, and the writings of Cesare Pavese make memory into something fluid, preserved, continually reshaped. Nothing is final—not war, not mourning, not even death.