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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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