Move aside romantasy, it’s time for a new genre…dysromance.

I’ve been sitting here trying to put together words that can adequately describe my qualms about this book. There are many, and they are all over the place. I’ve decided the best way to do this is to break it down into elements of craft (aka: my thesis on why this is a bad book).

1. Worldbuilding The worldbuilding is so lazy. The magic system is really vague. There’s a mention of biotoxin but NO further explanation. And—listen—you don’t need to come up with an origin story of magic every single time you have a magic system in the story. But if it’s known to be a biotoxin, then there’s bound to be far more repercussions in a society than just “we will oppress anyone and everyone who exhibits symptoms.” Like, y’know, a culling. Or quarantine zones. Or mandatory medical screenings to analyze the biotoxin titer in your blood. Origins may not be explored (especially since this is the first of a series, ugh), but there must be CONSEQUENCES beyond just “we will kill them or put them in labor camps.” I mean, come ON. These consequences could have filled out the sketches of the world that DF gives us. Instead, we have ramblings about how hot the MMC is.

You have a country called “Continent.” You have an underground rebel movement called “Uprising.” There are rich business people who work hand-in-hand with political leaders called “capitalists.” There’s an elite training program called “Program.” And then there’s the political structure in power called the “Company.” It felt like placeholder names that people working on this novel—writers, editors, proofreaders—could have EASILY suggested a replacement for. At least call it, like, New America or some shit. I’d choose gimmick-y over lazy any day. Like, seriously. This is so embarrassing. You have alternate-worldly character names like Cross, Roe, Kess, Lash. Then you have other names like Lydia, Tyler, Adrienne, Bryce. Like what? Are we in 2225 Continent or in 2025 America?

Then there’s the depiction of the oppressive regime. There’s very clearly an oppressed group of people and an oppressor group. Wren is part of the oppressed group of people. For what it’s worth, she does grapple a little bit with her identity as a “Mod” while fraternizing with the sexy enemy (Cross). But the key here is…fraternizing. But that’s discussed in point four.

2. Plot Not much to say here. It was very cookie cutter. Kinda boring tbh. The elite academy-esque vibe is a pretty common plotline. The pacing is a bit off—you have jam packed sequences followed by blabbering about how hot Cross is, and the plot twists feel contrived.

The thing that drives me nuts is that we are told that the Uprising (I feel ridiculous even typing that) is making big moves against the Company but there is NOTHING TO CONVINCE US THAT THEY ARE. They’re the most passive rebellion movement that only kicks into gear far deep into the novel. Which would be fine if we knew what exactly they’re even DOING, which we don’t. You can chalk it up to Wren not being on the “in,” but even civilians experience the ramifications of a rebellion movement—protests, mass arrests, public executions, trade routes being barricaded. No rescue ops, no hostage negotiations, no targeted assassinations. For being a fierce underground movement, y’all sure like to emphasize the word “underground.” This is almost certainly a contributing factor to point 1, world building.

And I think what bothers me the most about this narrative is that it frames the biggest crime of the Command is their treatment of Mods. Yes, it is terrible, and yes, they mirror Nazi practices (tattooing, executions, labor camps, experimentation, slaves). However, when one group is oppressed, even those that are not part of the oppressed group feel the consequences of it. NOT IN THIS CASE!

This was a weird world where anyone who wasn’t oppressed faced absolutely zero effects from it. I just know this writer is a white woman.

3. Characters Wren is a Mary Sue. Cross is a quintessential broody, strong, authoritative male figure that Wren can’t help but be attracted to. I would like to summarize their “chemistry” by a singular choice quote: (Cross speaking) “Did I give you permission to speak?” The shamefaced boy ducks his head. “No, sir.” “Then shut the fuck up.” It’s annoying how turned on I am, hearing him cut the guy down.

Never mind the fact that all the supporting cast are two-dimensional archetypes—we have the “mean girl” (Kess), the “unsure if she’s a mean girl but she doesn’t seem to like me so she’s a mean girl” (Ivy), the “nice girl” (Lydia), the “fuck boy” (Kaine), and the “creepy boy” (Roe), and the “creepy fuck boy” (Anson). Oh, also, “the hot stoic guy that I really shouldn’t like but I still find him sexy anyway” (Cross). Did I mention he’s SEXY?

WE GET IT. CROSS IS HOT. YOU DON’T NEED TO BASH ME OVER THE HEAD WITH IT. My GOD. I’ve read romance novels where the protagonist doesn’t try that hard to convince me Cross is sexy. AND THIS ISN’T EVEN ENTIRELY A ROMANCE NOVEL.

Sorry. Lost control of myself. Anyway, these characters are not intriguing in the slightest. I felt like I was watching a bad CW show. They act like high school-ers. You remember the Gallagher Girls series, where the teenage girls are training to become spies? Yeah, they were far more mature than these adults. But the adults have sex, or something, so they’re adults.

4. Thinly veiled propaganda I will not be elaborating because I DID write an entire mini essay about this but I'm been a lot more careful about what I post online. All I will say is this:

In the dystopian genre, writers and readers alike know one fundamental truth: to be complicit with the enemy is to be the enemy. This story attempts to convince you otherwise.