The video shows Lithuania, a young man, living at sometime after the turn of the century in his home country. Unlike most execution videos, there's no resignation on Lithuania's face, no awareness of his impending punishment. In fact, there seems to be no awareness he is Lithuania. The young man is cheerful, ordinary, does not suspect he is being watched or that he is living a life different from any around him. The young man is Toris.

Toris is shown going about his ordinary life in the small town he's grown up in. Times are difficult, but it's still a pleasant community to live in. Toris works as a farmer, sometimes travels to the city to sell his goods, sometimes returns home and stays there. Months and seasons pass. Toris has a life like any other, marries, has young children.

Of course, the situation becomes more difficult when war breaks out. Toris goes to war and fights in the trenches. It isn't pleasant, but he becomes close with the other soldiers he fights alongside. After all, he is no different than they, and treated no differently.

The war is going badly, a few men Toris knows fall in battle, but on the whole, Toris and his comrades are lucky, remain more unscathed than the other men around them. And then, one day, when they wake in the morning and emerge, they find absolute silence on the battlefield. There are no sounds of explosions or gunfire, not even when they emerge from their trenches and go to see that all of the soldiers on the other side are dead, lying very still and covered in boils and festering sores, the marks of some terrible sickness. Toris and his comrades go to report what happened, but then find the soldiers in nearby trenches on their side - also dead, also covered in boils and sores. They go back to the supply lines, and find only empty trucks, empty barracks, filled with corpses. Even in the medical tents, the beds are lined with corpses, and the few still alive, doctors and nurses included, are moaning and hovering near death. Even command is gone.

The men are terrified, desert, part ways. Toris returns to the village where he grew up, encountering, along the way, nothing but sickness and death and the dying. He is afraid of what he'll find when he returns to his home. In his village, many are still alive, but the boils and sores that mark the sickness are ever-present on the people he sees on his way to his home. Corpses are lying in the streets, along with the living, moaning and near death.

He enters his home, clearly terrified, and opens his door to find that his family is still there, frightened but alive, in good health. He is so relieved. He embraces his wife, kisses his young children. They don't question their good fortune, merely smile in gratitude. Toris and his wife go out into the village, tending to the sick, easing the passing of the dying, bringing food and water to the homes where so many lie in bed.

One morning, a sore appears on the skin of one of the children; the next, a rash on another. And then sores on his wife. All of these marks of sickness are met with fear and terror, but Toris swallows them, tries to show bravery. The sickness does not seem to be advancing as quickly as it did with everyone else, maybe it won't be as terrible. The marks of sickness do increase, the children and his wife begin to fall ill, but slowly.

The situation worsens in other ways. As winter comes, the crops begin to run out, the well freezes over. There is no one to bring food to the town. Everyone in the town is slowly beginning to die. Those who venture out never return. Eventually, Toris goes, though he is reluctant to leave his family. He finds that in the neighboring towns, even the nearest city, there is no one alive, no one at all. Frightened, he returns home. When he returns home, he finds that in his absence, all the remaining villagers have perished. His family is still alive, though their sickness gradually progresses. Still, Toris has never become sick at all. He cares for them through their sickness and, soon enough, through their starvation.

It gradually begins to dawn on them that, going so long without food as they have, none of them should be alive. His hunger pains him, and he's weak. His children are even worse; they cry from the pain. But none of them die, though they are too weak to move at all. A long winter passes, the sickness grows worse. Sores cover their body. They are in agony. But they still will not die. His wife grows more and more frightened and horrified while Toris tries to maintain a cheerful face.

One day, a two travelers come to town. Toris rushes to them. They are sick men, and weak, but they are living. Toris recognizes the two of them as two of his comrades from the war. He rushes to embrace them, but as they see how he is still unscathed by sickness, when they see his family living on, refusing to die, their eyes widen with fear.

They tell a story of their own experience, returning home to find their towns, their families dead and dying, yet, while they too grew sick but failed to die. It slowly dawns on Toris that what they and his family have in common is him. Somehow, those around him just won't die. He swallows his own fear and bids his comrades farewell.

That night, he hears the sound of a gunshot. His wife has shot herself in the head with his rifle from the war. The children are sleeping, the meager amount of water they drank that night laced with poison. They are still breathing, and is his wife - though half her head is gone, she lies in agony, weeping and moaning.

At last, Toris runs away, leaves his home, goes walking through the snow. He walks for weeks and weeks, his feet bleeding, but he never drops from exhaustion. The world around him is empty and filled with rotting corpses. When next he returns to his home, his family have at last died. He continues walking, wandering the country side. Finally, he too begins to grow ill, scabs and sores appearing on him, his body becoming so thin and weak he looks like a corpse. The sores bleed he becomes a grotesque, rotting thing, but he's still standing.

He sits down, in the courtyard of a cathedral in the city he used to visit. The courtyard is filled with bones. He sits and stays there as weeks, months, and years pass him by, and he waits to die. Finally, his body rots so much he can no longer stay sitting, and he collapses to the ground, crushed by the weight of his own bones.