SON OF DUNE

The exiled drove with their trucks into the sandstorm, deep within the south, in the innermost regions where most choose not to follow. If you were to look to your left, you would see a second sandstorm pushing the winds, going 300 miles per hour. But this was normal for the exiled as far as they were concerned. 

The trucks were hurtling at a hundred miles per hour, and some exceeded that, their engines roaring with power. They were on a high-speed journey, determined to reach home by nightfall.

When the moon rose into the sky and the sunset, they arrived at their destination, where they were met with cheers and celebrations of their victory.

The exiles, finally reunited with their loved ones, met their brothers, sisters, and children with open arms. Many Fremen locals, their eyes filled with hope, looked for their children in the crowd gathering outside the mountain. The air was filled with cries of joy and laughter, a testament to the triumph of their journey.

The parents looked at the children, who seemed fully hydrated and clean. They also had on new clothes: a white shirt and brown shorts. They wore modern clothing from Earth, but the planet was now long dead and gone.

It was only a short time until they heard the sound of a revving. The crowd looked behind them, and Jamis and Krelln came in, driving with their hoverbikes. The People began to clap for them. And Krelln, not being the person for audiences, ignored them and walked through the crowd while people patted his back.

Some in the crowd were Fanatics, and they all believed the lies of the Bene Gesserit. They whispered that he was the one, but he did not have a mother who used the voice, so some doubted. But they whispered nonetheless. 

In the crowd was an old woman, her eyes blue within blue. She had a pouch with her and a blue liquid in it. She was a woman who garnered knowledge of the past and, on her face, marked words to something much bigger than this. She was a woman who could use the voice. 

Through the liquid of the sandworms, she saw her past. She knew the truth about the Lisan AL Gaib, a folklore made by Bene Gesserit to influence the Fremen. 

Before long, Krelln had disappeared into the mountain. He walked and passed by many people who gave him a nod of Acknowledgment. He never wanted his people to bow to him. He wanted respect, and he earned that. 

Following the path in the mountain, he went to a corner where there was an elevator. It dropped him to the last floors of the mountain, down to his workshop, where his dining area was, and then his bedroom to sleep in. 

No one was allowed down here. Only Jamis had been down here; all forms of technology were in this place. And it was fascinating, but what was most intriguing was the big hunk of steel in the center. 

It was a spaceship.

Outside this mountain, sand crawlers were gathering spice in a field that had never been harvested. There was a large amount of spice in this field. And some silos had it in abundance in this very room. And there was more to be found down below this level. 

Krelln was preparing for his family; this was their gift. He knew his father was set to fail by the emperor, and the house of Atreides grew in power comparable to the emperor. Ever since the disappearance of the second young master, Damon, Duke Leto fell into work and worked hard preparing his son Paul for the position.

Krelln walked into his room and turned on the shower. The water was warm as it hit his skin. There were scars all over his body, wounds that healed horribly. He was a Freman, and this was their way of training. He was also the student of two of the best fighters. 

When he was done showering, he grabbed a towel from his inventory and wiped himself down. His long hair reached his back. His body looked defined; the young man had abs, strong arms, and strong legs to boast. He was not small like Paul. He was fit, and his physique showed it to be true. The only thing that showed he was Atreides was the oval face. 

He walked over to his bed and lay in it, closing his eyes immediately. He was tired more than usual; he had done a lot of killing today.

On Caladan, Paul Atreides indulged himself in one of his favorite activities: sleeping. After finishing his classes with Dr. Yueh, he liked to sleep. He lay sprawled on his bed in a long dream. 

In this dream, he saw himself on a battlefield, wearing a red Stillsuit and killing enemies in two moves. The dream ended with him throwing something at a man far away.

Paul was reliving his brother's life, but he perceived it as a dream that kept changing. Even though all this space separated them, their bond was deep and unnatural, something the Bene Gesserit had never seen before.

Everything went black, and then he woke up in his room in Caladan. His arms were shaking. It felt so real, he thought. It always feels so real. Who are you, Krelln?

Back in Arrakis, the night had passed, and you could hear the sound of machines operating in the warehouse; Krelln had his hair in a man bun, and two chopsticks were embedded to lock it. 

He was working on his ship. After this one was operational, he could assemble it faster using an assembly line. Krelln walked back to a small table with a computer screen showing schematics of the spaceship. He was drawing equipment he might need in his notebook.

After he was done, he tapped his neck and made a 3D model of the piece he needed. He logged everything required to build the ship. He walked around in the warehouse whistling, thinking of ideas. 

At the entrance to the warehouse, where there was an elevator, Krelln heard a ding, and the sound of footsteps on the marbled flooring came to him. This did not worry him at all; only two people were allowed in this area.

Krelln thought to himself, trying to remember something, and then he said, 'If you think about it, I look like Iron Man building his suits.' 

He stood upright and hit his head. " Why did I not think of that?" he asked himself. Of course, building an arc reactor is very feasible with today's technology. 

He crouched down again and he saw the shadow of a man. 

" what is it, Jamis? As you can see, I'm busy." Krelln said as the footsteps stopped. " there is a great gathering, and everyone wants to eat together." Jamis said 

" No, thank you. I would much rather eat by myself." Krelln continued to stare at the 3D model in his mask; on the outside, he looked like he was staring up at the roof. 

" The people look to you as a leader, and it is time you acted like one, please, old friend. I implore you to come with me, at least show them their Savior. 

" Fine, but I am not wearing any fancy things..... as a matter of fact, I will go just like this, dirty and oily and stink of spice," said Krelln 

A smile plastered on Jamis's face. " I would not have it any other way." They both left the warehouse and entered the elevator. And up they went; walking down a long dark hallway and finding their way to the cafeteria.

Krelln was met with people around a table. These men and women fought with him on the battlefield yesterday. Of course, he still had his mask on; he never showed his face, even to his man. 

The people were already drinking and singing. Some were drinking Spice Bear, and they slurred from their mouths; however, when Krelln entered the cafeteria. Everyone was quiet, which showed the amount of respect he commanded from his man.

In the far corners, he saw an elderly woman speaking to children. When he laid his eyes on her, she looked back with a grandmotherly smile. But he knew better. 

Krelln walked to the head of the table, grabbed the food on the table, and placed all sorts of food on his plate. A silence rang in the air. He grabbed a cup and held it in the air, and a nearby boy poured him his share of Spice Bear.

As Krelln sat down on his chair, he looked at them and said, "What the fuck are guys waiting on? Eat." a Fremen woman sitting by her husband said, " Language." and this brought laughter to Krelln, and others joined him. and the dinner continued.

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