Somewhere between worlds forgotten and worlds not yet discovered, Sisyphus labours tirelessly. At the mercy of the Gods and their disdain for his cunningness, his destiny is bound to his artistry. Rock by rock, trench by trench, on mountaintops and in the pits of the underworld, Sisyphus forges his creations. When will he have bought his freedom? When will he have made his peace? As the Gods keep playing dice and the numbers roll in, Sisyphus toils relentlessly.