Death parts us all. A magical, real quest to find home in a place no one can see.

“Till death do us part.”

“Oh my God, how are you?” Mary asked. The voice I remembered faded cordially with a precious Southern drawl. A tear fell from the crack in her eye, and she was noticeably pregnant.

“Did you cheat on me?” I stared at her pregnant stomach.

Mary ran and hugged me. Our arms clinched around each other, feeling the beat of one another’s hearts. The rhythm of our hearts reined in quiet tears words couldn’t express. Her scent the same as if a day passed. We pulled back and peered into each others’ eyes. I think she felt I left her, and I felt she would have waited forever.

When a combat cameraman falls into a coma, the military takes advantage of his state by implanting new technology into his brain - technology that captures and records his thoughts. But when he wakes up two decades later, he’s left to grapple with this decision that was never his to make.

Death is swift, easy. Dying? Now, that’s the hard part; stuck in limbo between painful life and merciful death, unable to move or control the outcome. It’s the ultimate torture, and something Newman Jones has had to experience for 20 years.

A combat cameraman serving his last mission in Iraq, Newman is ready to finally settle down with his fiancée. But on January 1, 2002, an IED explodes, overturning his up-armored Humvee. Death meets all his comrades, while Newman falls into a coma. Under the order of an anonymous CIA director, Newman is hidden from the world and sent to a top-secret research facility, where he is implanted with a device to capture and record his thoughts. And for 20 years, he remains there - until the day he awakens.

Awake and confused, Newman’s world is shattered. When the implanted device malfunctions and Newman is called back by the doctors, he ignores their request, following the soft whispers of a sacred crow to guide him home. The device continues streaming his thoughts to the military, so the doctors send for retrieval; his days are numbered. The only options are submission or death.