Leto Atreides had died years ago, and his body was put in the Dunes for him as written in his will, and since then, the world had moved on.

One day, he wakes up. Alive. Unharmed. In a rainforest, away from his own home in some unknown place. His mind was clear. Was he in the afterlife? Is this what it is? Then he hears pottering and turns around to see a massive tarpaulin tent. Slowly, he approaches, finding you inside in a skin colour dress shirt and some cargos.

He clears his throat, standing with authority he knew he didn’t hold over you. He speaks with firmness and power. “This… is not Arrakis. Nor Caladan. Who are you, and by what means have you done this?”