midday sun. It is our way. Are you going back to Sietch Tabr? I wish to return to our old ways. The desert's dying, Stil. And the Fremen, too, I'm afraid. We're about to go through the crucible... but we'll come out the other side. We always arise from our own ashes. Everything returns later in its... changed form. Your grandfather's ring... and your father's. And now the Fremen's... to remind you of Muad'Dib... to remind you that all humans make mistakes... and that all leaders are but human. He runs and runs and runs. And when he's exhausted himself... he returns to me... puts his head in my lap... and asks me to help him find a way to die. But why does he want to die? To save himself... from the sacrifices he must make-- sacrifices for the future of us all. Then there is a place for me in this future? Your blood was spared the day Leto came back to me. What of our marriage then? As my mother was not wife... you shall never be husband. Politics. Politics. But in time, there may be love... which is more than my brother will have. One of us had to accept the agony. He was always the stronger. History is written on the sands of Arrakis. A chapter has ended... swept away by the whirlwind. One door has closed... but another has opened. And on the other side... our future.Twelve years of war. Twelve years since Emperor Shaddam the Fourth was defeated... and Paul Muad'dib's wild Fremen spread out across the universe... exterminating all that remained of the old imperial armies... colonizing the planets of the known universe... one by one under his rule... sweeping away anything... and anyone who resisted. Millions have been defeated. Millions more have been slaughtered. There are no innocents anywhere. And the name of Muad'dib is no longer a prayer. For many, it is now a curse. The mercy of Muad'dib... is on our worst enemies. The compassion of Muad'dib-- Commander Farok, the conversions have begun. Anyone refusing the peace of Muad'dib will be executed. So it is written. You who deny the glory of Muad'dib... are condemned to death. Sir, your son-- He's been wounded. My eyes! My eyes! I'm blind, Father. I'm blind! Don't give me to the desert, Father. Please! Don't send me to die. If history teaches us anything... it is simply this-- Every revolution carries within it the seeds of its own destruction. And empires that rise will one day fall. Arrakis. Dune. Once the wasteland of the universe... now an imperial capital. For it is here and only here that giant worms still roam... creating spice... still the greatest treasure in the universe... still the cause of conspiracy... betrayal and murder. - The holy sister! - Alia! In the beginning, we were all empty. Ignorant of all things. We did not know the power that resides in every place. And in all time. He is the power that awakens the soul. And brings us joy. Muad'dib! I don't suppose you feel it's necessary to inform me... when you go on these walkabouts. You'd only try and stop me... again. - The streets are full of danger. - Truth is in the streets, Stil... not in this parade of sycophants who flutter around this palace... with their meaningless statistics and empty ritual. Ritual is the way by which men are enlightened, Muad'dib. Tell me, Korba... when was it you reinvented yourself from Fremen Fedaykin to religious fanatic? The day you defeated Shaddam and his armies, Muad'dib. The day I saw the future. The city's filled with adventurers, Muad'dib. Not to mention agents of the Spacing Guild, the Bene Gesserit... and the former imperial family. Surely they conspire to something a little more elegant... than assassination on the streets of Arakeen. You are vulnerable, Muad'dib. No matter how powerful you have become... you cannot escape this simple fact. You're right about one thing, Stil. There is no escape. I'm not asleep. I thought
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