The Great Chamber of the Landsraad had been refurbished, expanded to accommodate over a hundred noble houses, their banners, their fears, and their ambitions. The Arrakis sun filtered through carved alabaster skylights, casting golden patterns on the basalt walls. Paul Atreides occupied the central throne, flanked by Jessica, Chani, and Irulan. In front of him, a storm of voices.
"The Empire fragments under our silence!" shouted Duke Hovar of Seleucus Secundus.
"And you still call a traitor who offers hope!" retorted Count Reskan of Bellamir, whose lesser house had received clandestine technical assistance from Garsuun.
"Garsuun was not saved! It was taken," Baroness Valdra declared, her voice sharp as a dagger.
Paul raised his hand. "The Empire does not discuss rumors." But if rumors become action... they will be judged.
A dry laugh sounded from the back benches. "Then judge us all, Muad'Dib. Because on the edges of the Empire, they already pray to another name."
From orbit, Vaelros looked like a dry and wounded world. Once fertile, it was now a planet exhausted by centuries of unchecked harvests. Fallen satellites and rusted irrigation towers littered its surface like scars. Kael Atreides descended in a polished obsidian ship, surrounded by his elite guard. His footsteps echoed on the flagstones of the old government palace, where Prefect Malen waited, flanked by trembling delegates.
"If you have come to invade, my planet barely has the strength to survive, much less resist," Malen said.
Kael did not speak. He only held out a sphere. A hologram unfolded: projections of a terraformed Vaelros, with regenerative agriculture, living waters, organic architecture, and generations of hope.
"This isn't a threat," Kael said finally. "It's an offer."
Jessica walked beside Paul in the palace's inner gardens, where she had managed to cultivate Fremen lilies under an artificial sky. Chani and Stilgar kept their distance.
"You can't beat him on his field," Jessica said.
"Then I must change the field."
"Not with war. Paul! If you attack worlds that surrender without a fight, you will become what he seeks to replace."
Paul stopped. "And if I do nothing?"
Jessica looked at him. "Then one day you'll wake up and your entire Empire will be gone... without a single one having died for it."
Prefect Malen sealed the treaty. "Vaelros surrenders unconditionally. But he asks for one favor:"
Kael raised an eyebrow. "Don't change our name."
Kael nodded. "I don't change names. I change futures."
From the fields, terraforming columns rose from the ground like metal stalks and began to breathe purifying mist over the dead earth. In the central tower, Kael sent a coded message to the throne of Arrakis. It read only: "Inevitable."
In the Great Hall, the noble houses argued, now more divided than ever. Some demanded action. Others, negotiation. And some remained silent, already readying their fleets to move. Paul stared into space.
Kael hadn't ignited a war.
He had sown a different world.
And the Empire... was beginning to tilt.