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DUNE-A False Haerach-(SI into brother of Irulan)

Born as the emperor's first-born child. An abomination twice over, the Order of Bene Gesserit would move to kill this anomaly. Prophets aren't so easy to kill, especially a false one.

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Chapter 33-Choices or Destiny!

Chapter 33

PAUL ATREIDES

Paul's decision has been made for him. Despite his sparring with Chani and all the other preparation he had undertaken, it was becoming evident to him that he truly had no choice but to undergo the ritual and embrace his destiny.

It was a risk, one that he felt that he had no choice but to take. And so, after asking Chani for the details, he picked up his bag discreetly, hoping that his movements would escape the notice of their new monarch, and Chani.

It was a betrayal to Inzal, to Chani, and to his own mother. He knew, in some ways, that he was being forced into this choice, that he was dancing to the tunes of that old hag. Yet what was he to do, let his and the Atreides honor be besmirched like that?

No.

And so, he would do it. And pray that he was stronger than both his enemies and allies believed him to be.

And yet as he stepped out of the city, using the secret passages Chani had shown him earlier, he found few guards there and found it rather easy to sneak out of the city with a single ruck-sac.

And as soon as he was out, he still as he heard a familiar voice.

"If you make that journey on foot, you will never make it back in time for the congregation," and his snapped to the side, and he found them there, standing in the shadow of the great wall.

Inzal and his mother, both of them looking straight at him.

Perhaps it was wrong of him to imagine that he could escape the eyes of one who could look beyond the confines of this galaxy.

"And even if you do make it to the ritual site. The Sayyadina's there would hardly accommodate your request," Inzal added as he walked upto him, mother beside him.

"Paul, what were you thinking," she began, and his fists balled up as he looked into her eyes.

"You do not have to do this. You are the ducal heir. You have men under you who would wield your blade for you. Duncan, Gurney, Hwatt, and even Inzal would. You need not put yourself through this," she chastised him, and he shook his head.

"NO!" he answered louder than he had wished to.

"This is my fight. My destiny," and Inzal scoffed.

"You have no destiny but the one you make yourself through blood, sweat, and tears," Inzal cut in.

"Then let me do this." He replied, looking at the white-haired boy.

"Let me do as I please. Let me make the journey and embrace my true self," he pleaded and saw Inzal's blue eyes focus on him.

"This is idiocy, Paul. Listen to me, I will not have you ris...." and yet the boy cut off his mother as he raised a hand.

"Why do you think I stop you, Paul Atreides?" he asked, and Paul shook his head.

"Do you think I fear what you would become? Fear the power that you would gain?" he continued as he began to loosen the flying unit attached to his belt.

"No, I stop you because I know of the burden that it will bring, of the regret it will bring. I know that you will regret your choice. I know it as I know that the Sun rises in the East and sets in the West," he finished, and Paul's lips thinned.

"The Kwisatz Haderach. It is less of a blessing and more of a burden. One that would see you lose your sense of self, sense of your own family, your own love. If you falter for a second, a mere second, it will eat you away, make you but a husk of the man you are, and turn you into a twisted creature, a weapon to be wielded at the behest of the very sisterhood that sought to end you and your family," Inzal finished.

And his words stuck with him, each of them detailing just what this would entail. He was not lying, Inzal's words were true, he could sense because of his Bene Gesserit training.

"You know nothing, Paul Atreides. And yet, I can see it in your eyes. You are still set in your decision," Inzal began, and Paul nodded.

"I am," he replied.

"Then let me test you," Inzal said as he took out a pair of daggers from his back and twirled them in his hands.

"Show me your resolve."

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INZAL KAZAB CORRINO

The question about dealing with Paul and the potential he had had always perturbed him the most when he had first began planning for his eventual rise for the throne.

Inzal had no desire to be an Emperor in a name like his father, and that meant confrontation against enemies like the Bene Gesserit, the Spicing Guild, the Noble Houses, and so forth.

Alone, he could beat them easily. If all of them were to join hands, it would be a bit troublesome, but he would still win. Yet if he were to add the abilities of a Kwisatz Haderach to their lot, alongside the political prowess and standing of House Atreides.

That would complicate matters.

And so, he had stewed over it for years. And had only reached a decision after he had laid eyes on the boy for the first time. The Kwisatz Haderach was a liability indeed, a big one.

Yet, through the right means, it could be a blessing as well, and sooner or later, through marriages or otherwise, there would be a babe born into the world who would be the Kwisatz Haderach, and so if such a thing was set to occur, it better be on his terms.

So, he would let Paul choose his fate and decide whether he wished to embrace the power hidden in his genetics, yet he would contain it in the best way he could.

And now, as Paul lay there huffing, bruised, and battered, Inzal watched him realize the sheer gap in their power.

Spice was not simply a psychoactive stimulant; it was something akin to a magical drug—one that enhanced your whole body, and Inzal had spent his whole life bathed in it. Add to that the Fremen martial training, the Been Gesserit training, and the Mentat training, and his martial prowess were at a level that few could match in the whole galaxy.

Despite his extensive training, Paul Atreides was not at that level yet. He was good, yet not good enough. Feyd Rautha was equally skilled as him, yet far more ruthless.

Right now, he is being trained by one of the greatest prodigies of Prana Bindu arts the Sisterhood has produced in years, Lady Margot Fenring. If they were to fight as he was now, it was likely that Paul would lose.

"If this is the best you can do. You will never reach the ritual site," he said as he spun his blades and circled the poor boy who struggled back to his feet.

"What do you want? Tell me what you want from me," Paul snarled.

"Think Paul. Think," he said as the boy raced towards him and swung the blades at him. Inzal stepped back, parried one of the attacks, and hit him in the gut with his elbow.

"UGH!" Paul keeled over as Inzal spun behind him, avoiding the wild swing, and kicked his leg.

The boy fell to the ground and grunted in pain as Inzal kicked the daggers away, stood over the boy, and raised his dagger over it, pinched between his fingers.

"You lose," Inzal said even though he knew it to be false, and their eyes met as Paul smirked.

"Think again," he said, and soon enough, a red dot appeared on his chest, a sniping red dot.

He smirked internally but did not show it on his face.

"Now, who would dare point their las-rifle at me," he taunted as he looked towards the wall and saw a solitary figure crouched down, aiming a rifle at him.

"You move an inch, and she fires," Paul challenged.

"Ohh, will she?" he said, and then his expression turned grave.

"I thought you wished to do this alone. That you wished to embrace this so-called destiny of yours with your own hands," Inzal challenged, and Paul's lips thinned.

"I do. But that does not mean I have to push those around me away. If this is as perilous a path as you make it out to be, then I shall need someone to help me along. People who would center me, who would protect me from the people and powers you speak of, including myself," he spoke with broken breaths, and Inzal let the silence hang in the air as he smiled.

"Good. Do not forget that, and you just might make it through," and with that he swung his daggers and put them back in their sheaths.

He lent the boy a hand and helped him up his feet.

"You knew she was there, right?" Paul asked, and Inzal raised a brow.

"What do you take me for, an idiot like you?" he teased as they both laughed and Chani made to join them.

She came upon them, walked upto them both, and then straight on punched Paul in the face.

"Ouch." Paul roared in pain, yet she did not relent as she kicked him and did not relent as he simply watched their little lover's tussle as Lady Jessica joined them.

"Is this really fine?" she asked, and he shrugged.

"It is his life and his choice, rather than trying to stop him and leaving open the possibility that he would go through this very thing through the machinations of our enemies, I think it is better if we let him do as he wishes and provide him with the guidance we can," he replied, and then he turned towards her.

"But it will need your final approval. If he is to go through it, he must abandon his position as the ducal heir of House Atreides, and you must take the mantle of Lady Jessica Atreides," he asked, and that was the deal.

This would limit House Atreides's powers, tie-down Duke Leto and Lady Jessica by marriage, and make it so that House Atreides's heirship would go to Alia.

"Will you let him do this?" he asked again, and after minutes of silence, she nodded.

"It is as you say," she said, turning towards him.

"It is his choice, and as a mother, I must support him," she said, stepping forward.

"And for all your help in how you went beyond what was discussed, let me do this for you," she said, and he realized her intention and backed away as she called out.

"Paul!" she called out in a stern voice, and the two lovers straightened up, and Paul walked upto his mother.

"Are you sure about this?" she asked him, and he nodded.

"I am." He replied, and he saw her nod and then look him in the eye.

"Then you leave me no choice."

And so, she delivered her own terms, terms which were accepted after some consternation by the boy as he gave Chani a final glance and looked towards his mother.

"I accept."

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