The first night on Arrakis was a transition of terror and silk. Outside the thick stone walls of the residency, the desert wind howled—a lonely, predatory sound that seemed to be hunting for any sign of life.
Inside the North Wing, the air was unnaturally still. Anastasia had been settled into her massive canopy bed, her petite frame looking like a small, pale flower amidst the vastness of the Arrakeen architecture. The room was bathed in a soft, golden glow from the suspended glow-globes, their light reflecting off the white fur rugs.
Lady Jessica remained in the room, her presence a silent, regal weight. She had dismissed the other servants, leaving only herself and Jia to attend to the "Gem." Jessica moved with a slow, ritualistic grace, her yandere-level devotion manifesting in the way she personally checked the humidity levels of the air and the seal of the massive window shutters.
"The water is the correct temperature, My Lady," Jia whispered, her voice a sharp, protective blade. She was currently kneeling at the foot of the bed, obsessively smoothing out a microscopic wrinkle in the silk sheets.
"Good," Jessica replied, her eyes never leaving Anastasia, who was blinking sleepily, her "naive" face softened by the warmth of the room. "The spice in the air here is heavy. It will try to change her dreams. We must ensure her mind remains as pure as the seas of Caladan."
The Shadow in the VentAnastasia reached out a small, tired hand and tugged on Jessica's sleeve. "Mama? Why is the house breathing so loud? The walls... they sound like they're whispering."
Jessica knelt beside her, brushing a stray golden lock from Anastasia's forehead with a tenderness that hid a lethal readiness. "It is just the wind, my Little Pearl. The desert is simply jealous that you are inside where it is cool."
But as she spoke, Jessica's Bene Gesserit senses—honed to a razor's edge—picked up a sound that didn't belong. A faint, metallic skitter.
In the corner of the ceiling, a tiny ventilation slit hummed. From its shadows, a Hunter-Seeker emerged—a sliver of black metal, no larger than a finger, suspended on a grav-field. It was a remote-controlled needle, tipped with a drop of "The Baron's Mercy"—a poison that would turn a human being into a screaming statue in seconds.
It hovered, its sensors locking onto the warmth of Anastasia's petite body.
The Strike of the HandJessica didn't scream. To scream would be to startle Anastasia.
Instead, she moved with a speed that defied human sight. In one fluid motion, she stood and positioned her body as a living shield between the bed and the needle. At the same time, Jia—who had seen the shimmer of the metal the moment it exited the vent—leapt into the air.
Jia didn't use a weapon. She used her own silk shawl, whipping it through the air to snag the tiny machine. The Hunter-Seeker buzzed angrily, its needle snapping forward, but Jia twisted the fabric with a vicious, obsessive strength, slamming the device against the stone floor.
Before it could recalibrate, Jia brought her heavy boot down on it. CRUNCH.
The room returned to silence.
The Aftermath of DevotionAnastasia sat up, looking confused and "naive." "Jia? Did something break? Was it a bug?"
Jia stood over the crushed metal, her chest heaving, her eyes burning with a dark, murderous fire. The thought that a Harkonnen toy had been inches away from her Little Star made her want to hunt down every person in the city and tear them apart.
"Just a desert beetle, Princess," Jia said, her voice instantly dropping back into a soothing, velvet hum. She knelt by the bed, her hands trembling as she reached out to tuck the covers tighter around Anastasia. "I've taken care of it. It won't bother you again."
Jessica walked to the wall and pressed a hidden chime. Within seconds, the door burst open, and Paul stood there, his shield already shimmering blue, his face a mask of cold fury. He had felt the spike of danger through his burgeoning prescience.
He looked at the crushed seeker on the floor, then at his sister's petite, safe form.
"The vents," Paul commanded, his voice echoing with the Power. "Seal them all. Weld them shut. I don't care if the room gets hot. If anything—anything—enters this room again without my permission, I will burn this city to the ground."
Jessica sat back on the edge of the bed, pulling Anastasia into her lap. She began to hum an ancient Caladan lullaby, her eyes meeting Jia's over the girl's head. A silent pact was made. From this night forward, the North Wing wasn't just a bedroom. It was a fortress. And everyone inside it was a monster waiting for a reason to strike.
"Go back to sleep, my Gem," Jessica whispered, her grip on Anastasia tightening with a possessive, yandere-like strength. "The monsters are gone. We are the only ones left now."