When Dante drinks the blood of a woman with AIDS, his health takes a turn for the worse. His immune system should be infallible, but here he is: every day, he wakes up healthy, only to attract another painful and rare disease during the day that is miraculously cured at night. It is a never-ending cycle and dreams and reality seem to blend into nothing but pain. And unlike Prometheus, there will not be a Heracles to kill the eagle and break the chains. He'll have to save himself, but can he do that when he's his own worst enemy? There's no antidote for life or suffering.