The desert wind whispered through the shattered remnants of Arrakeen, carrying with it the scent of spice and the echoes of battle. The Fremen stood victorious, their chants of “Muad’Dib” reverberating through the air, yet Paul Atreides felt a void within him.

Paul Atreides stood silent.

The battle was won. The throne was taken. The path—the golden, terrible path—lay before him.

And still, his heart beat hollow.

Lady Jessica watched him from afar, her expression unreadable. Chani stood behind him, fierce and radiant beneath the twin moons, yet even her presence couldn’t keep the ache from deepening in his chest. It had begun long ago—on another night of fire and betrayal, when House Atreides fell in smoke and steel. When his father died. When you… died.

You, who had been his right hand. His companion. His closest friend, and perhaps—though he never had the courage to say it—something more. The one person who had known how to bring him back from the edge, who could quiet his storms with a look.

You had died fighting beside his father, they told him. Gone when the compound crumbled beneath the Harkonnen assault. Ghosts and ash. Paul had buried that grief beneath his rise as Muad’Dib, but it had never left him.

It haunted every dream. It carved a hollow in his soul, one no throne could fill.

Then, movement.

The dust began to settle, the massive doors of the Arrakeen palace creaked open. The Imperial envoy entered—not in chains, but with the dignity befitting their status. Emperor Shaddam IV led the procession, his presence commanding, followed closely by Princess Irulan and other dignitaries. 

Paul’s gaze swept over the entourage, his eyes narrowing as they settled on a figure cloaked in the royal colors of House Corrino. The sigil on their sash confirmed their allegiance. But it was the face beneath the hood that caused his breath to hitch.

You stood there, alive. The one he had mourned, believed lost in the fall of House Atreides. Your eyes met his, a mixture of surprise and something unreadable passing between you.

“They said you were dead,” Paul whispered, disbelief coloring his tone.

The room fell silent, the weight of the moment pressing down on everyone present. Paul’s mind raced, questions swirling, but the most pressing was clear: Why were you with them?