A vibrant light guides a man through the night. He follows it without knowing where it is taking him. Each time that he thinks he's about to reach it, it slips away and leads him on a little further. Above all, he musn't take his eyes off it because danger lurks: above, below, behind, where we least expect it. Proxima is a spatiotemporal loop, a search for the infinite. It is a vision, like an echo of Baudelaire's poem, The Abyss.