The sun was high in the sky, creating short shadows across the rocky terrain. Marcus advanced with deliberate steps, his senses tuned to the changing sands and the wind's whispering, his injured shoulder was slowing him down a bit, but nonetheless, he carried on. The bright horizon appeared to go on forever, each rock and dune a tribute to Arrakis' brutal beauty.

Marcus sensed a presence—a mysterious weight in the air that awakened his instincts as he pushed deeper into the rocky landscape. He kept walking, each step careful and calculated, his gaze scanning the surroundings for any indication of movement.

A few more steps and an uprising of sand indicated the presence of someone. Marcus came to a standstill, his pulse racing as he sensed the approach of another. His hand slid to the hilt of his lightsaber, muscles pulling in anticipation.

The Fremen warrior dropped from a rocky crag in an instant, executing a devastating strike. Marcus' reflexes heightened, directing him to avoid the lethal stabs. His motions were fluent and deliberate as if he were acting between life and death. The Fremen warrior's attacks were powerful, demonstrating their desert-honed prowess.

Marcus, on the other hand, was no stranger to combat. He deflected each blow with the style of a well-trained fighter, despite his badly injured shoulder. His senses directed him, each movement a reaction to the ups and downs of combat. The clang of steel echoed across the empty air.

Marcus felt a shift as the combat progressed. He released a pulse of energy that surged across the air, disarming the Fremen fighter. The lightsaber ignited, its blue glow creating beautiful patterns of light across the rocky landscape.

The Fremen warrior fell silent, defeat written on their features. Marcus kept his sight fixed on the lightsaber. The quiet was a solid presence, a split second between anger and empathy.

More individuals emerged from the rocky landscape as if called by the desert itself. Fremen soldiers appeared from the shadows, their eyes sharp and scrutinising. Stilgar, a figure of authority and power, stood among them.

Marcus lowered his lightsaber, allowing the illumination to fade into the hilt. The tension in the air remained, but it had taken on a new tone—an unconscious acknowledgement of common purpose.

Stilgar returned Marcus' look, a glimmer of respect in his eyes.

Stilfar: You have great power, outsider

Marcus nodded, his stance firm. He then removed his helmet so that Stilgar could see it was him.

Marcus: Stilgar. It's me, Marcus Atreides. We met in Arraken, a while back.

Marcus felt the weight of fate land on his shoulders as the Fremen approached them. His journey had brought him to this point—a crossroads of pathways where the desert, the Force, and the Fremen met.

Stilgar: I remember, young one. So tell me this, why do you come out here, into our lands?

Marcus: I need your help, all of you. We were attacked by the Harkonnens and the emperor's blades, the Sardukar, in the dark of the night. Many of us were killed, including my father.

Stilgar: And what of, your mother and brother?

Marcus: I do not know, I just hope they are alive and well. But what I do know for certain is, now that the Harkonnens are back, they will come after all of you and the rest of the Fremen. And they will not stop until all of you are dead.

As the weight of Marcus' words sets in, their silence hangs heavily in the air. The Fremen's implicit awareness is obvious, with each Fremen battling with the implications of their newfound knowledge.

Marcus: I came here in the hopes that you will fight alongside me against the Harkonnens and the Sardaukar. I can't fight against them on my own.

Marcus locked gazes with Stilgar, the Fremen leader's gaze unclear.

Marcus: Our cause is one, Stilgar. The Harkonnens bring danger to all of us, the Fremen, House Atreides, and the very heart of Arrakis. They will strip Arrakis of its life and its people. House Atreides was not their first victim, and it will not be their last. We have a chance to drive the Harkonnens from this land. House Atreides still has the strength to fight, and my connection to the Force is a power that can aid our cause.

Stilgar's gaze remained reserved, but Marcus detected a hint of thoughtfulness in his approach.

?: There is something you must know

His eyes met Chani's. The Fremen warrior from his visions appeared before him, her aura as bright as the desert sun.

Marcus: I've seen you before

Marcus felt a connection as if the dream that had led him here had served as a link between their fates.

Chani took another step forward, her gaze never leaving his.

Chani: We have faced the Harkonnens before. Many years ago, a Force user, like you, came to our aid. He was a beacon of hope, a fighter who guided us through the darkness.

Marcus: What happened to him?

Chani: The Baron himself ended his life. His sacrifice marked the beginning of our resistance, the fire that burns within us to free Arrakis. But we have no luck against them.

Marcus felt a newfound drive ignite within him as Chani's words hung in the air. The legacy of the slain Force user, Leya's call in his dream—they were strings of fate winding their way through his life.

Marcus addressed Stilgar once more, this time with determination.

Marcus: I pledge to learn the ways of the Fremen, to harness the power of the Force, and to use both to stand against the Harkonnens and the Sardaukar. Our strengths combined can be their downfall

Stilgar's face remained expressionless, his gaze assessing Marcus' resolve. The silence that followed was a witness to the importance of the decision that was at stake.

Stilgar: You are bold, Marcus Atreides. Your fate is entwined with ours, as is your strength with the Force. We shall see if the desert's whispers speak truth. Chani, he appears to have suffered a bad injury, have him seen to.

Chani nods at Stilgar and makes her way over to Marcus. She quickly looks over him and his injured shoulder, using her medpak. She dresses the wound and finally seals it.

Chani: You'll survive

Marcus gives Chani a small smile

Marcus met Stilgar's stare, bearing the weight of Fremen's history and Chani's faith in him. The road he had chosen was no longer completely his—it was the meeting of dreams, visions, and fates, an exchange of shadows that would take them to a new dawn. Marcus could feel the weight of expectation land on his shoulders, knowing that his ability to navigate this dangerous route would determine the fate of these people. In his imagination, echoes of old predictions urged him to accept his position as a catalyst for change and development. Marcus could feel the weight of the challenges that lay ahead with each step forward, but he also felt a glimmer of hope, powered by the support and dedication of those who stood behind him.

As he was walking with the Fremen, to a new safe place. He felt a terrible disturbance in the force as if someone close to him had now fallen and perished. He stops in his tracks, holds his hand to his chest and begins to breathe heavily

Chani sees this and checks on him

Chani: What is it, what's wrong?

Marcus composes himself for a few minutes

Marcus: I'm ok, I just... felt a disturbance in the force. I think something bad just happened.

Chani: What?

Marcus: ...It doesn't matter now. We shouldn't fall behind everyone.

Marcus gets up, takes out his helmet & puts it back on, and continues walking with the Fremen

Paul and Jessica rush into the back seats, only to discover Kynes in the co-pilot's seat.

Kynes gives a ration kit to Paul and Jessica.

Kynes: Here, drink this.

As Duncan grabs the controls and lifts off, they pull out water flasks and ration bars and drink thirstily.

Duncan: Harkonnens hit every population centre on the planet at once. They must have landed ten legions. Hundreds of ships. There was Sardaukar with them. At least two battalions.

Jessica: You're sure?

Duncan: You cross swords with a Sardaukar, you know it. Marcus handled them quite well, I must say.

Jessica: So. The Emperor's taken a side. What says the Judge of the Change?

Kynes: The Emperor forbids me to say anything at all.

Paul: Yet you risk your life to help us.

The Fremen quickly wrap the ornithopters in camouflaged shelters and tether them to the ground.

Paul looks around: far away, he can see the storm as a column of blackness covering the stars. The stars blaze blood-red through a cloud of sand and dust around the edge.

The Fremen find a tiny mark on the rock. They dig down with sand compactors till a door is visible. The Fremen twist a secret lock. A passage is revealed when the stone slab slides inward. Kynes walks them in.

Kynes: The storm will be here in a few hours, you will be safe here

Paul: What about my brother? He is somewhere out there.

Kynes: From what Duncan has told me about your brother's plans, there is plenty of shelter in the desert, and that is only if he hasn't made contact yet.

Jessica: Do you believe he has?

Kynes: I have strong reasons to believe so. Do you know what this place is? It's an old ecological testing station. They were meant to tame the planet. Free the water locked beneath the sands. Arrakis could've been a paradise. The work had begun but then the spice was discovered. And suddenly no one wanted the desert to go away.

A massive circular room with a stone pillar in the centre. Passages lead away from the building to laboratories and other facilities. Warm, indirect sunshine pours from some crack high above through rough-hewn vents in the marble ceiling. Sand has drifted over the floor. Kynes gives her Fremen escort a nod.

Paul, Jessica, and Duncan are led through a door by Kynes. They are joined by two Fremen. They walk inside a large hall with lights that flicker on and off. On either side, they can see science facilities such as botanical labs, chemical labs, and storerooms.

Kynes: Tanat, will you find stillsuits to fit our guests

Tanat: Yes, Liet

Kynes: Shamir, coffee service, please.

Shamir: Of course, Liet.

Paul: Who are you to the Fremen?

Kynes smiles slightly and does not answer.

Duncan wanders inside a facility where desert-adapted plants are grown under glass domes in sand rather than dirt. He crosses the rows in silence, his hand on his sword's hilt.

A glowglobe-lit square room excavated from bedrock. A row of metal filing cabinets lines one wall.

A desk with a milk-glass top shot full of yellow bubbles in the centre of the room is surrounded by four suspensor seats. Kynes is seated at the desk with Paul and Jessica.

Paul: Do you know what the Great Houses fear most, Dr. Kynes? Exactly what has happened to us here. The Sardaukar picking them off one by one. Only together can they stand against the Imperium. Would you bear witness? Testify that the Emperor has moved against us here?

Kynes: If they believed me...there would be general warfare between the Great Houses and the Emperor.

Jessica: Chaos. Across the Imperium.

Paul: But suppose I presented the Emperor with an alternative to chaos. The Emperor has no sons. And his daughters are yet to marry.

Kynes: You'd make a play for the throne? The Emperor feared the Atreides, he brought you here to kill you. What don't you understand? You're a lost boy, hiding in a hole in the ground.

Paul: Fremen speak of the Lisan al-Gaib,

Jessica: Careful...

Paul: The Voice from the Outer World who will lead them to Paradise.

Kynes: Superstition

Paul: I know you loved a Fremen warrior and lost him in battle. I know you walk in two worlds and are known by many names. I've seen your dream. As Emperor, Dr Kynes, I could make a Paradise of Arrakis with a wave of my hand.

Kynes' Fremen friends, six warriors, men and women, sat sipping coffee from little silver cups.

A gentle scrape freezes them all like deer. Their attention is drawn to a sand pour from the vents above.

Sardaukar falls through the vents in slow motion on suspensors as we tilt up.

We watch as fifty Imperial troops fall, landing softly on the room floor. They take a peek around.

The Fremen are no longer present. One of the Sardaukar bends down to pick up a silver coffee cup, which has a drip of coffee in the bottom. He frowns seriously - - as the Fremen, knives drawn, erupt from the sand all around the Sardaukar! Six against fifty, they charge into combat like dervishes. Fighting with superhuman prowess.

Duncan glances up as a Fremen enters the Nexus and falls on her face, a knife in her back.

Sardaukar comes through the back entrance. There are twenty of them. Duncan sees his death as he looks at them. In him, a weird wild delight arises. So that's how it goes.

Duncan: Sardaukar!

Paul realises that the vision he saw is coming to pass

Paul: Duncan!

Jessica: Paul, no!He slams the door twice behind him. He draws his sword and approaches to face his enemy.

Paul: Duncan, no!

Kynes: He's locked the door.

Duncan is halfway down the corridor, his longsword cutting, his shield glowing, facing a wall of Sardaukar.

There are now five Sardaukar dead at Duncan's feet, but there are fifteen more seeking to kill him. Swords and daggers pierced his shield. Duncan fights like a war god. His sword was too rapid to keep up with. There is freedom in knowing that this is his final stand. He overlooks the harm he is creating.

Kynes pulls a steel filing cabinet away from the wall, revealing a dark, narrow corridor. She reaches for their stillsuits and fremkit on the shelf.

A Sardaukar blade slashes into Duncan's chest and out of his back while Paul watches. Idaho kills Sardaukar but collapses to one knee. Another knife slashes through him. Duncan murders one more Sardaukar... and falls to his death.

Jessica: He's gone

Paul howls and pushes himself against the door.

Paul: Duncan!

Kynes: We have to go we have no choice

When the Sardaukar arrives at the Laboratory Office door, it is locked. Sardaukar, the commander, pulls out a laser cutter to cut through the door...and impossibly behind them...Duncan gets to his feet.

A blade slashed through his body. He had a dagger in his shoulder. As he raises his long sword, he sways on his feet.

Sardaukar's turn. Duncan goes towards them, pulling the blade from his chest. Their eyes are filled with fear.

Duncan roars to his doom, his longsword blazing.

Kynes: Come!

They hurry through. She swings the door shut behind them: it closes like a bank vault, a thick slab of steel.

Duncan lies dead, surrounded by nineteen fallen Sardaukar.

Kynes rushes Paul and Jessica through a tight tunnel. Glowtabs light up as they approach and then fade away.

In the tunnel, they come to a branching. Kynes points in one direction.

Kynes: Follow the way. You'l find an ornithopter ready to fly. That storm out there is your best shot. Above five thousand meters, it's mostly dust. Climb into it. Stay on top. Head south. Find the Fremen and your other son.

Jessica: You're not coming with us?

Kynes: It only seats two. I'll go to the next station and report this attack to the Landsraad.

Jessica: How?

Kynes: I'm Fremen. The desert's my home

Kynes: Good luck!

Paul: Good luck!

She vanishes down the other path.

Paul and Jessica turn and walk into the darkness, following the dim arrows that appear ahead of them and disappear behind them.

Paul and Jessica walk into a cavern where a tiny ornithopter - rests in a puddle of light from a ceiling opening. When compared to past military airships, it's a swift, delicate vessel with a glass cockpit.

They load their gear into the ornithopter and get inside. Paul repositions the pilot's seat. Flight controls are tested.

Jessica: You sure you can fly this?

Paul: Marcus gave me a few lessons on flying these kinds of aircrafts, I should be fine.

Kynes rises from a pillar of stone, dressed for the desert in robes and a stillsuit. She sees the worm sign approaching and is attracted by the active shields. Moving away from the rocks, she pulls two maker hooks from her belt and scans the dry landscape. A light ornithopter piloted by Paul and Jessica speeds towards the storm. In pursuit, three military ornithopters take off. Kynes's chest suddenly explodes with a dagger's blade, sending her tumbling down the sand. She is followed by a Sardaukar assassin wielding a bloodied sword. Kynes struggles for air near the bottom and grabs for her crysknife. The Sardaukar halts and approaches her while grinning cruelly.

Sardaukar Assassin: Kynes. You betrayed the emperor.

A hiss of sand getting louder underneath them is a sound Kynes hears that the Sardaukar misses.

She starts to drum steadily on the sand with her fist. THUMP. THUMP.

She snarls at her murderer.

Kynes: I serve only one master. His name is Shai-Hulud!

As a sandworm surfaces with its enormous jaws wide open, the desert spreads out underneath them. It descends back into darkness after devouring them both in a sand deluge.

Paul pulls back on the handle while moving the power bar forward. They drop into their seats as the little ornithopter ascends, its motors whining as it races towards the storm.

Jessica: Jet-flares behind us.

Paul casts a backward glance. 3 Harkonnen 'thopters are visible in pursuit.

He thrusts his power arm into the air. The 'thopter was flying through the sky like a scared animal. The rust-coloured sandstorm cloud wall was in front of them, a hurricane's size.

A missile is fired by each of the chasing ornithopters. The three missiles follow them and approach quickly. Paul and Jessica's cockpit is filled with collision warnings.

Paul watches the altimeter as he moves closer to the cloud wall. 3000 metres and still going up...

Jessica: We're not high enough

He wildly weaves, but the missiles can find the ornithopter with ease, closing quickly. They aren't going to get through this.

Jessica: Paul...!

They are thrown against the storm wall after Paul tightens the strap.

The ornithopter is tossed around by the wind like a leaf in a breeze. The wings violently tremble. Paul folds the wings of the craft.

Following the cyclone, the missiles are also pulled off their paths and launched chaotically in all directions. As they detonate, the storm is painted with fire ribbons.

The sandstorm is death, and the Harkonnen ornithopters disperse.

Paul and Jessica are pushed firmly into their seats by the spinning of their ornithopter. Slamming against the hull is sand. Paul repeatedly launches jets, their rotation is slowed.

Zero visibility is reached. There is nothing else save the windscreen's dusty wash and the instrument panel's green light.

While battling for control, Paul eases the wings open to short stubs, and the engines shut off. Instruments continue to function.

The only noises are the wind, the creaking of the metal, and the hull being scraped by the sand. The altimeter continues to rotate as they rise, tumbling erratically. going up more than 4,000 metres.

Paul: I must not fear. Fear is the mind-killer.

When she hears him, Jessica joins him in a spirit of prayer:

Paul & Jessica: Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration. I will face my fear...

Paul struggles to maintain control of the flying dead-stick ornithopter. The engines are not running.

The enormous home is still dominated by the Harkonnen Dreadnought. Every door has a Harkonnen guard posted there, in complete command.

The Baron lies down in a sophisticated tub of thick black fluid. To his collarbones, he is covered.

His cheek has a spiderweb-like pattern on it, resembling the cracks in an antique picture. the poison's aftereffects.

A boy and a girl, both quite attractive, who are adolescent slaves cater to him while wearing exposing tunics, both frightened. While the girl carefully dabbed a medical swab at the Baron's craquelured face, the boy fed the Baron fruit from a dish.

Rabban enters and moves towards the bathtub, turning his head away.

Baron: So?

The Baron is touched by the female slave with a swab, and when he pulls away in pain, he slaps the swab out of her hand. She shudders.

Rabban: We chased them into a Coriolis storm. Winds at eight hundred kilometres an hour. Nothing survives such a storm. They are dead. It is a certainty.

The Baron takes a deep breath.

Baron: So it's done. At last.

He allows the slave girl to resume her ministrations.

Baron: Send word to Giedi Prime to begin selling our spice reserves. Slowly! We don't want the price to fall. You cannot imagine what it cost me to bring such force to bear here. I want you to squeeze, Rabban. Squeeze hard.

Rabban: Yes, Uncle. And the Fremen?

Baron: Kill them. Kill them all.