Astoundingly brilliant debut. Incredibly ambitious in scope and breadth. The best cosmic horror I have read so far.
First things first—this is grim, this is complex, and this is horrifying in both its premise and gore-laden, blood-splattered execution. But if you are reading my blog, likely none of this is a deterrent for you… let’s move on. This story forces you to face many facets of ethical dilemmas, coping with hardships that come with devout faith and the void left behind once it is shattered, and the complex nature of love and hard choices we make in the name of it.
There’s no path forward in which we don’t make compromises. We’ve all been complicit.
The initial part of the story follows two primary characters. We discover the dark, oppressed world through the eyes of Jacen, a drunk once-renowned exorcist/priest, and Ysira, a warrior scavenger. They are two very different individuals but are similar in that they have given up on all they once held dear in their lives.
The world is ruled by gods who have supposedly saved the world from the brink of a cataclysm and now protect what remains of its people from demons of the abyss. That the gods are not benevolent becomes evident early on, but we discover their true nature much later. Each cycle, they demand a tithe that causes a fraction of the population to be harvested.
With each passing day, he understood less of the world, everything he had taken as truth slipping out of his grasp.
The story clearly takes inspiration from many popular science fantasies, perhaps most prominently Dune and Nightflyers, if I have to hazard a guess. However, the plot, presentation, and characters are all quite distinct and stand well on their own. I had not quite expected something to fill the void left in my heart by Nightflyers, but well, it did, and now that this book too is over, I am left with one even bigger. Well, such is life—grimdark!
There was power in blasphemy, at least—a wild, reckless rush that gave her the courage
This is a story that brings demons and exorcists to a sci-fi context, but not by taking your run-of-the-mill priest and handing them a gun or stashing them in a spacesuit. The author embraces religion for what it truly is—a deeply flawed social construct engineered to preserve a hierarchy of power, while not completely throwing away the aspects of spirituality.
His training took effect. He walled off his mind with an empty chasm of calm. Fear was a raw, contagious emotion, prone to devouring reason, and its only antidote was silence. Serenity.
The plot starts off complex and evolves from many tangents but eventually converges into a very relatable, albeit unsettling, overarching theme. I loved how strange complexities kept unfolding until the last minute. The breakneck pacing did wonders for the theme. I felt the book was written exactly for me.
Something slithered beneath that papery‑white skin, older than the stars and not entirely at home in this universe.
The deep focus on telepathy was magnificent. The author goes far beyond the typical treatment of reaching into the mind and reading thoughts. The way it plays a role in not just the interrogations but also battles, planning, strategy, and even love-making was just fantastic. There was so much going on at all times, and as someone who adores this kind of deep-rooted, multi-faceted plot, I loved it all. The gory battles, obviously, but also the mentor-mentee dynamics, the focus on queer love, even that weird threesome…
Pain surged through her body. She struggled not to cry out. But if she hadn’t died yet … this would not kill her. This was not the end.
The characters all invoke very strong emotions and you feel each one touching different sets of chords in your brain. The protagonists were great. I had expected Nines to evolve in a certain direction, but I liked how the plot had something very different in store for her. I have never hated anyone as much as Ged. I have felt such sorrow for very few characters as I did for Niri.
Through the bitterness that rose like bile in her throat, she flashed him her most radiant smile. “Go fuck a cactus.”
Beyond the premise and characters being great, I also enjoyed how towards the end the side characters steal the show. The way the perspective shifts away from the people we are led to believe were the protagonists was unorthodox and masterfully done.
There are myriad other subtle things that worked out really well—like the role played by the cat, how the seemingly disconnected bribery tangent continues to thread in and out until the very end. Everything is there for a reason—everything connects like pieces of a puzzle.
Whatever comes next from Jesse, be it a book, a cult, a religion… I’ll be found standing in the queue.
The voice in the desert. The red thing. What waits below.