Little is known about the final days of my ancestor, the ancestor of so many, Muad'Dib. Though many romanticized accounts exist, some of them purportedly by his own hand, none has proved any validity. What seems evident, however, is that he must surely have seen the paronama of history stretching before him, confirming his great path - Golden Path - of destiny - that he had mapped out. Although death would soon claim him, no mortal ever knew with such confidence and certainty the bright promise - and the shameful necessities - that the future would hold in store.

- Private BG Files, Mother Superior Sheeana Brugh on Muad'Dib

I am Paul Atreides. Former Siridar-Duke of House Atreides and Padishah Emperor of the Atreides Empire. Kwisatz Haderach of the Bene Gesserit. Lisan al-Geyab of the Fremen. Muad'Dib. The Preacher.

It all sounds quite impressive, I know. I have done a great deal in my forty-four years and I am tired. Looking back over my life, I wonder if I could have - should have - done certain things differently. For instance: Was I so concerned with my grand prescient visions that the people and events that intersected my life sometimes seemed inconsequential by comparison?

Perhaps I neglected to make some small incidental adjustments here or there that would have in no way compromised the future of humanity but might have dramatically improved the life of an individual dear to me. - Thufir, my first son Leto...I can't help but wonder...Was there something I could have done to save by beloved Chani?

Last month I finished making the last adjusments to advance the Golden Path my son must guide. My assistant, a Duncan Idaho ghola molded by rogue Bene Tleilax among the Fremen, has been doing additional work on Caladan, Kaitain and Wallach IX. He'll make sure that everything is in place for humankind's salvation - my son's gerat reign and the eventual Scattering and Famines.

I'll be long dead by then, of course.

What will they think of me, those future citizens of the Empire, those last Fremen, those Bene Gesserit witches, the future Atreides, when they are involved in those future events? Probably not much...and that is a mercy.

I heard from Duncan yesterday. All is going well on Tupile. Hasimir Fenring and others I once knew are having peace in their last years.

My one regret is that I cannot save Alia. She has been a good sister, and is a good woman. Her mistake is that she does not look at things realistically.

What will I do know? With the Duncan I have known for nine years finally gone to join my old friends on Tupile, the original and his other ghola dead, I am utterly alone. I hear from Wensicia occasionally. The work at Arafel-Kralizec continues on course; in the past decade she and Piter have added dozens of Mentats to their number. It was the Arafel-Kralizec contingent - my secret Bene - who pushed Farad'n to exile Wensicia and allow her to them once again, her work done.

I miss Wensicia. It has been many years since I've seen her, sat with her quitely, holding her hand. When Wensicia left, even though I asked her to go, I thought I would die of heartbreak. That was, perhaps, the most difficult decision I ever had to make and, although I never told her, I almost decided against it. But for the Golden Path to suceed, it was necessary for Wensicia and Piter to go to Kralizec-Arafel. Prescience decreed it, - so perhaps it wasn't really my decision, after all.

I still come here every day, to my no-globe, my secret Keep near Sietch Tabr. I remember when this structure was filled with people, who have all gone to Tupile or another planet for the Golden Path, day and night. Sometimes I feel as if it's filled with voices, those of my long-departed family, students, followers - but the hallways are silent.

I suppose I should vacate it, return to Arrakeen to finally await my inevitable fait. But somehow it's hard to let go of this place. There are so many memories...

All I have now is this, my Nerve Induction Box, and it's Gom Jabbar. This is a thing I have preserved for twenty-eight years, ever since that test with Gaius Helen Mohaim...where I could have died. Then where would we be now? As I sit here, this deceptively simple-loooking tool in the palm of my hand, this small, black cube, I wish I could show it to the ancient thinking machine that was known as Hasimir Fenring...

But I am alone, and settle back. The Box activates. It always had one secret purpose...lights fill the room. To the untrained eye, this multicolored swirl would be merely a jumble of strange shapes and images, but for me - and Thufir, Wensicia, Piter - this is prescience, come to life.

What I see before me, around me, is the future of humanity. Thirty thousand years of potential chaos, compressed into a mere 1,500...

That patch, growing more strongly day by day, is the Tupile prediction. And there - skewed beyond repair - are the events of the future of Arrakis. But I can see...yes, softly beaming, a steady light of hope...Kralizec-Arafel!

This - this - was my life's work. My past - humanity's future. The Golden Path of Dune. Dune. So beatiful, so alive. And nothing can...

Chani!

Chani...

I am ready to die.

PAUL-MUAD'DIB - Killed in 10,219 A.G. (1 L.P.) Muad'Dib's body was jettisoned into space, in accordance with instructions he'd left. The official memorial service on Arrakis was simple, though well attended. It is worth noting that Muad'Dib's old friend former Count Hasimir Fenring attended the event. Fenring had not been seen since his assassination attempt on Paul in 10,199, during his brutal reign. Attempts by the Bene Gesserit to locate Fenring in the days following the Muad'Dib memorial proved to be unsuccessful...

Ghanima Atreides, Paul-Muad'Dib's daughter, did not attend the ceremony. It was rumored that she was grief-stricken and had refused all public appearances. To this day, her whereabouts from then on remain unknown...

It has been said that Muad'Dib left this life as he lived it, for he died with the future he created unfolding all around him...

- Manual of Muad'Dib, 214th Edition, published in 11,239 A.G.

Is it ready? asked d a voice in the darkness.

Kralizec is coming. It is almost here. Responded a boom.

Kralizec? As an event?

Yes.

Ripples of the voice boomed through space, into the Scattering...

Just a few thousand years now.

We can wait.

We are eternally patient...