All language subtitles for Foundation.S03E02.1080p.WEB.h264-ETHEL

Awaken, Sleeper.
The First Speaker welcomes you home.

Thalis.

You've been one year in stasis.
All is as you planned.

Awaken, Hari Seldon.

The Second Foundation welcomes you home.

Hari and I had finally established
the Second Foundation on Ignis.

But we had a lot of catching up to do.

The Plan was still wildly off course.
We needed to get it back on track.

We'd stay in cryosleep for all
but a few weeks each year.

Awaken, Sleeper. Another year has passed.

When we were awake, Hari would
teach the Mentalics about psychohistory.

Manipulating events through mass action.

Bending the arc of history,
that is psychohistory's true power.

And I would teach them how
to use their powers to fight the Mule.

As the years passed,
we evolved from Tellem's children

into whirling blades
in the current of time.

No. Don't. Don't bow.

Our religious era is over.

We expanded our reach,

seeking out other Mentalics like us
and growing our numbers.

Soon, we had eyes and ears
in every part of the galaxy.

Working in the shadows to ensure
the First Foundation grew strong,

and Empire weakened according
to the initial trajectory of the Plan.

But as the years went by,

we found ourselves up against
one thing we couldn't control.

Time.

We still won't be ready in time.

The Mule doesn't show up
for another half a century.

It's not him I'm worried about.

The Third Crisis
was always the turning point.

If we don't have everything
in exactly the right place,

even if we defeat the Mule,
we won't be ready for what comes after.

Then we specialize.

We can't teach all the Mentalics
all of psychohistory,

but we can teach
parts of it to each of them.

That's good.

But we'd still need to be constantly
updating our regression models.

Refining our socio-operations

so that we know we're influencing
the right sectors.

We're not catching up fast enough.

We need to stay awake.

One of us needs to stay awake.

Hari.

Your battle is with the Mule.

It's my job to ensure that we're prepared.

Hari. Fuck.

There's only one way that's possible.

See you in a year.

Welcome home, Gaal.

Where's Thalis?

Thalis passed away some time ago.
He's First Speaker now.

His name's Preem Palver.

Where's Hari? How many years?

Since your first wake cycle…

148 years.

Hari?

Gaal.

Oh, that's right.

That's right.

Why didn't they wake me sooner?

We needed more time.
Yours is more valuable than mine.

I could've helped.

We could've traded places
for a while, taken turns.

We could've found some way to…

You're always so angry with me.

Well, you always earn it.

The Mule?

No. Not yet. Soon.

But the a…

The Third Crisis is almost upon us.

Come.

What are these?

I made them.

Salvor, Yanna, Raych.

This is how I remember the past
these days.

I can't see them clearly in here anymore.

But I can in here.

Come, come.

There's something I need to show you.

For most of my life,
I believed, if executed properly,

my Plan would shorten the darkness.

You were never meant to be part
of Second Foundation.

You were supposed to die
centuries ago. Yet here you are.

You threw everything off course

and somehow managed
to put it all back again.

This can't all be by accident.

There's something happening here.
I… I can't explain it.

But I know you're at the center of it.

The road ahead is one
you can travel on your own.

I'm not saying goodbye to you.

Then I'll have Preem do the eulogy.

Hari.

You'll like him. Now…

This is everything I know
about the Eight Crises.

All the raw data,
all my thoughts, secrets.

But the most important is this one.

The Invictus.

If the Mule is defeated,

this is where everything is headed.

I'll see you tomorrow.

I'm tired.

- Tomorrow.
- Yeah.

- Okay.
- Yes.

Be careful.

You lied to her.

I couldn't look her in the face
and say goodbye.

Better this way.

Were I Gaal, I'd disagree.

Are you certain of this?

There'd be grace to die here.

Take me back to Oona's World.

Grant me another reprieve.

This body was your reprieve.

And you did all you could
while you had it.

Then I'm certain.

No Spacers. No whisper-drive.

No jumpgate.

How?

Come with me. Let me show you.

Salvor said… She said someone
wanted me to have skin in the game. Why?

Because we can't.

Hari?

He's gone.

He didn't say goodbye.

But I felt him leave.

I don't know how to sign yet,
but I can read heartbreak.

Hari's gone
and I want to make one for him.

One of those statues he was making.

He already carved his own. Didn't he?

Of course he fucking did.

Hari had carved himself into history.

And forged a path for us to follow.

We took that path together.

I learned Preem's language
and the Plan was back on track,

but the fight was just beginning.

Where is the Second Foundation?

The Mule is here. We're out of time.

One hundred and fifty-two years ago,

you saw that if there were
no Second Foundation,

we would completely diverge
from the Seldon Plan.

We have dragged the Plan back.

The Third Crisis is landing right
where it's supposed to.

Kalgan's something else.

The moment the Mule took it,

the Radiant did this…

Well, if it can get worse,
it can get better.

Fix it.

It is not fixable.

Not by psychohistory at least.

It couldn't just be wrong?

You said the predictions
have been less exact recently.

I believe that is due
to some other unknown.

Something has been
casting shadows in the math for years.

Kalgan then. It changed hands.

Couldn't that have caused
some domino effect?

I always felt we were
headed to nothingness.

Kiss the void, gentlemen.

For a century, this toy obeyed that toy.

It made us servants to its readings

which it promised would help us
preserve our own skin.

Well, happy pay day to us.

We're fucked.

If you need me, find a way not to.

Even emptier in there than I thought.

We'll confer later.

For now, don't tell anyone else.

No one can know.

Demerzel.
I think, in this moment…

I understand what it's like to be you.

Empire?

I have toiled, and compromised,
and sought a happy middle ground.

All for nothing apparently.

So if there is ash in my mouth
at the end of a brief, pointless life,

you must taste bile
in your long, pointless one.

Maybe you welcome the end.

If there's no Genetic Dynasty to maintain,

you are just a girl

with an open road before her.

There is much for me to do, Empire.

Demerzel, you can't lose me. Not now.

Whatever doom is coming,

it's to everyone's advantage
to have me here to face it with you.

Are you really gonna
toss me out in ten days?

Please don't.

Your appeal implies
I have agency in the matter.

But among my many functions, I am a clock.

I am the clock for every Cleon's life.
And the time I keep is exact.

I am the Mule.

My ship outside is the Blacktongue.

I know.

We look fearsome.

But I promise you,

you will come to love me

just as your archduke did
in his final moments.

Now, where's the runtling?

Where?

What's your name?

Skirlet, sir.

My father called me that. It's Kalganese.

It means "little bread roll."

What a noble name.

And please, never "sir."

Just Mule will do.

So, Skirlet…

do you love the Mule?

More than anything.

More than anything.

As you may have heard,
I can coerce people.

Change their affections.

But it is difficult and requires
a certain discipline on my part.

Fortunately, I have learned
I needn't convert everyone.

I can convert some
by way of demonstration.

And the rest who witness these conversions

simply just… proselytize for me.

So, Skirlet.

Would you like to demonstrate
how conversion works?

More than anything.

Yes.

Come.

Please.

Do you know what this is?

It's my father's.

Did he ever let you play with it?

No. He said it's too dangerous.

And he's correct.

You mustn't point that at others
and never at yourself.

But that's the beauty of conversion.

Once I'm inside your head,
I can paint any picture I want.

Just one, small brush stroke
to bristle the mind

and suddenly you find yourself
compelled to do something…

you know you shouldn't.

It's okay, little bread roll.

Pick it up.

It's heavy.

Oh, no.

Is it too heavy to lift to your head?

Like father…

like daughter.

Would you like to
pull the trigger, Skirlet?

More than anything.

More than anything!

On the count of three then.

One.

Two.

Three.

Do you think I'm a monster?

The beauty of conversion.

Give it, Skirlet. Give it.

You can shoot yourself another time.
I promise.

I promise.

Eat.

You will all come to love me.

And in short order…

the rest of the galaxy will as well.

Well, I don't have any coins, but…

That's unfair.

Hey, if you wanna run home

and fetch your own antique,
I wanna say sugar bowl,

I'm not gonna stop you.

Does Demerzel know
you're risking family heirlooms?

Well, we'll see how it goes.

Could it be my humble household
is acquiring a new sugar bowl?

Oh, it's not gonna be that easy.

And now you have.

Come on. Set it back up.

There's a lot more shiny stuff
in the palace.

Spores.

Try it.

That's all right.

Good man. This stuff will kill you.

Cygnet's gonna wanna play with this.

We saw the doctor again.

No change, but…

I tell you, she's determined
to live the year she has

running full speed and top volume.

- I wish there was something I could…
- I know.

There's a new Dawn cooking.

It's almost done.

Newborns are amazing.

You'll love him.

I will try. Bounce him off my knee
or off the walls. We'll see.

Come on. He's you.

I'm pretty sure you can love yourself.

Well…

Go on. Play.

Just you don't steal any of my stuff.

I can have you all disemboweled.

You can reject your legacy,
but rarely can you escape it.

On the other side of the galaxy,

the legacy of Hober Mallow
had made its way into the history books

after he pierced Empire's hide
during the Second Crisis.

Hober's descendants went on
to establish the Alliance of Traders.

But the most recent of their bloodline,
Toran Mallow,

wanted nothing to do with the Traders.

Or the next crisis.

The Mule, however, has a way
of pulling everyone into his orbit.

One way or another.

Button?

The pirate stole our sunshine.

Yes, new-weds.

Newlyweds.

Means we just got married.
It's an old custom.

We're making it plush again.

You're going to want to get married
any day now.

I look forward.

What's your pleasure, Mr. Mallow?

My bride and I chose this villa
so we'd be undisturbed

and, suddenly, we find ourselves
disturbed by the shadow of the coup.

My sincere apologies.

Can you move it?

Well, Mr. Mallow,
the Blacktongue belongs to the Mule.

His political actions--

- Oh, we like "coup."
- Oh, we prefer "coup."

His coup is bound to
cause some inconveniences.

Perhaps you could…

Yes?

It might be more difficult
to move the spaceship

than for you to move your towels?

Torie, this man is a genius.

Although, could you send
a team of people to help?

Only this towel has a bit
of a heavy weave.

I get it. It's a scatter.

Very nice.

- You did very well.
- You did.

Thanks for playing along.

Welcome home. Shall I make drinks?

Always, Sweetheart.

Oh, I really like the new ship voice.

She's got brass.
I'm naming her Sweetheart.

Love it. Won't be confusing at all.

Fantastic scatters at the beach today.

A coup is the place to be seen apparently.

Frisk, yet dire.

Your drink is ready.

I love you, Torie.
I love my life with you.

You too, sweetheart.

Thank you.

Do you think this coup thing
has anything to do with the Traders?

Oh, who knows. Politics.

It's always the same players,
just with different shaped ships.

I wish everyone would just be
a part of one thing.

My uncle will care.

Until your uncle sees the goodness in you,

I don't care
what he thinks about anything.

And neither should you.

Good news. We have a guest.

Complimentary massages.

Well, don't you look like a firm hand.

I am.

And who are you?

My name is Captain Han Pritcher.
I'm in Intelligence for the Foundation.

I'll get the cocktail shaker.

None of your scatters will work
while I'm standing in this room.

Do you understand?

Yeah.

You know, it's odd.

On the rare occasions
where I tell someone who I am,

they tend to be frightened of me.

Why would we be?

Well, you're docked in a war zone,
for starters.

There's still fighting going on.

Bombings.

What do you know about the coup?

We know it's someone called the Mule.
Fitting. Stubborn ass.

His ship is called the Blacktongue,
which is a whole picture.

Right. Not a pleasant person.

And, surprisingly, hard to get to.

Oh, Toran, think we're being recruited.

Captain, you already know
my uncle is Randu Mallow.

If we're caught spying for you,

everyone will think the Traders
are behind it.

Which gives cover to Indbur
and the rest of the Foundation leadership.

Is the Mule really that dangerous?

We've been having the time of it
on our honeymoon.

That's because you're too busy posing

to notice the rest of Kalgan
sweating blood

as the Mule's heel presses down.

We notice.

But do you feel it? The air gone stale.

The common people holding their breath

watching their neighbor's door
get kicked in.

Sir, if you're trying
to frighten my wife--

No.

You're too rich to ever really be scared.

Too callow. Too complicit.

It's why you don't bat an eye
when I board your ship.

And why the sound of
the jackboots you always hear

sound like they're marching
a few streets over

with those other people.

What's the ask?

Normally, these would-be dictators,

when they take a planet,
lay low for a few days.

The Mule wants to prove something.

He's still protected.

But he likes his vices.

He's throwing a party tonight.

Where beloved galactic personalities
Toran and Bayta are on the guest list.

Bayta, I believe the captain
wants to be our plus-one.

Do you know who Hari Seldon was?

No.

He's been dead for centuries,
but every so often he comes around again.

He said Empire
was driving itself over a cliff.

Well, we extended the cliff,
but we also kept driving.

And the new thing is,

we know within a matter of weeks
when everything ends.

It's soon.

How could anyone know that?

Because Hari Seldon
figured out how to read the future.

And then he taught us how to do it too.

And you believe it?

They believe it.

My brothers have pride enough
to think they can prevent it.

I don't.

Either way,
things are going to get very bad.

And I don't wanna be here
when that happens.

I wanna go to Mycogen.

I want to see the place that made you.

Yeah?

May I speak to you in private?

No.

- I'll go.
- No, this is your home too.

She fucking stays.

Fine. She can hear my apology.

You've always mistrusted the Radiant
and our reliance on it.

I see now that you were right to.

And I'm sorry.

The great conciliator.

It's nice to have some of that
coming my way for once.

Well, I wanna help.

The weight of this
shouldn't be on your shoulders.

And you don't want it in any event,
so let me carry it for you.

You know, when the drift began and we…

we saw that cognitive decline
was starting sooner,

a Day adjusted the timing.

Cutting the thread of life
shorter for all of us.

So a…

Day could adjust it again.

Just letting the thread
spool out for a few months.

Until this is dealt with.

We're all such wonderful actors,
aren't we?

Shame we never went on the stage.

Ask Demerzel first?

It must have given you a no
if you came crawling to me.

We ascend sooner
because our minds deteriorate sooner.

If that feels unnatural, good.

There's nothing natural about us.

We're rag dolls dressed up as kings.

Monsters.

Look.

See?

Watch the friendly nanites do their work.

There.

The rag doll is all stitched up again.

Day's not coming, is he?

I don't believe so, Empire.

Who's dead?

Just any lingering respect I had for Day.

Bring my brother some clean robes.

I hope I'm an acceptable substitute.

I knew he wouldn't come
because of tradition or duty, but…

some childish part of me hoped
he'd attend the robing out of kindness.

You deserve better.

The Cleon who robed me into Day
was more father than brother.

There was care when he handed me
the center throne.

When I robed our brother,
I knew he was headed for disaster.

I will be proud to
hand the robes to you though.

Ambassador Quent and I
are having drinks tonight.

I want you to join.

She's been a good friend to me.

I agree.

And if our time is indeed short,
it'll be good to have friends in the end.

I will continue…

to give you what I can these last days.

I will help you charm and befriend Quent.

And…

there's another gift
I've told no one about.

What is it?

When the time is right.

Demerzel knows, surely.

No. It is the one thing
I have kept from Demerzel.

Something that will keep you safe,
no matter what comes.

A Dawn will be robed Day.

A bright sun in an azure sky.

May your wisdom rage and hope
long illuminate Empire from within.

Thank you.

It's a good fit.

I had not planned on needing
this for quite some time,

but recent revelations
have moved up our timeline.

Everything is as you requested, Empire.

Well, then I can shuffle off the stage,

assuring Dawn's rule is strong.

If it works.

Does it work?

Oh, by your name and glory,
it does, Empire.

The Novacula is the first of its kind.

A black hole bomb.

The power we harness comes
from the unbridled spin of the beast.

For each second we stand here,
the beast has rotated hundreds of times.

The black hole cannot be escaped.

Within it, time and space are broken down.

But the outer region, the ergosphere,

that can be punctured and harnessed.

We feed it electromagnetic rays,

photons,
drops of light cutting through space

with a heat we cannot imagine.

They have returned to godhood.

But they gather each second, preparing.

And then, touched by stolen fire
and super-radiant energy,

we reach across the expanse
with an unendurable force.

Witness.

How much of what was there is gone?

Nothing is gone.

It remains. But forever changed.

You have pleased me.

People will know
I put death in your hands.

This is a deterrent.

Only for Dawn to use

under the most extraordinary
of circumstances.

But the extraordinary might be coming.

So, have you had time
to check in with Indbur,

or is he busy dribbling sugar
all over the casino chips on Kalgan?

I've confirmed that the fall of Kalgan

has taken the Foundation
entirely by surprise.

Indbur knows nothing.

Well, that's certainly his reputation.

I imagine we'll know more
when the Vault pops open.

It is lit up, yeah?

You are always suspiciously
well-informed, my friend.

Yes, well, we have our sources.

I love her blushes.

I'm not concerned about
the ownership of Kalgan.

But I am concerned
about the pirate who took it.

He hasn't dropped the planet
into anyone's pocket yet

and I'm starting to think
he intends to keep it.

And this comes out of concern for what?
The good people of Kalgan?

No.

No, I'm still Empire. I care only for us.

I just wanna be prepared.

Oh, you'll be prepared.

I'm sure of it.

Well, that was all I wanted to say.

I'm no drinker,
so I'll leave you to your brandies.

Empire?

Brother Dawn, Empire knows things,
often more than it should.

So when you're worried, I'm worried.

What is it you're really concerned about?

I'm concerned about people,
like this Mule,

that can make unlikely things happen.

Isn't that what Seldon teaches?

Or have you set that aside
for our smiles and brandy?

I have made Seldon's teachings my life.

Living on a foreign planet to serve them.

I didn't mean to offend.

But I'm sorry, I… I have an appointment.

The Mule.

I expected your call
as soon as I heard the name.

It's time to make yourself useful, Empire.