What do you think?
Rate this book
Annals of the Incidental Utopia #2
Crimson Dusk
Their collision fractured them. The truth made it worse...
Idd wakes imprisoned in the institution that once forged him, forced to confront what he's become. His past won't stay buried. His present won't hold still. And the voice that kept him alive might be the thing that destroys him.
Korthe discovers her crusade was built on lies—but the lies go deeper than betrayal. Armed with a dead man's ring and a blade that whispers secrets, she pursues an impossible target toward an answer that should not exist.
Conspiracy brought them together. Trauma binds them. But in a world where histories contradict themselves and Moon-Gods forget their own stories, the most dangerous revelation is the one neither of them is ready to accept:
Nothing was ever what it seemed. Perhaps, not even them.
The pattern is breaking. Some will see it. Most won't—not yet.
Artwork by @zeinz_
Idd wakes imprisoned in the institution that once forged him, forced to confront what he's become. His past won't stay buried. His present won't hold still. And the voice that kept him alive might be the thing that destroys him.
Korthe discovers her crusade was built on lies—but the lies go deeper than betrayal. Armed with a dead man's ring and a blade that whispers secrets, she pursues an impossible target toward an answer that should not exist.
Conspiracy brought them together. Trauma binds them. But in a world where histories contradict themselves and Moon-Gods forget their own stories, the most dangerous revelation is the one neither of them is ready to accept:
Nothing was ever what it seemed. Perhaps, not even them.
The pattern is breaking. Some will see it. Most won't—not yet.
Artwork by @zeinz_
- GenresDark FantasyFantasy
259 pages, Kindle Edition
Published October 9, 2025
2 people want to read
About the author
E. P. Soulless
4 books18 followersCzech Self-pub Author
Annals of the Incidental Utopia—where nothing is incidental and far from utopian. An anti-epic series that respects your intelligence, demands your attention, and actively pushes your hand away. Gnosticism in grimdark coating. If that sounds intriguing rather than pretentious, you've arrived at the right place.
Annals of the Incidental Utopia—where nothing is incidental and far from utopian. An anti-epic series that respects your intelligence, demands your attention, and actively pushes your hand away. Gnosticism in grimdark coating. If that sounds intriguing rather than pretentious, you've arrived at the right place.
Ratings & Reviews
Friends & Following
Create a free account to discover what your friends think of this book!
Community Reviews
Displaying 1 - 5 of 5 reviews
September 21, 2025
Great continuation of the storyline. Both the plot and the grimdark elements shine better in the second book.
Full review here.
Full review here.
September 20, 2025
Read this review and more on my Medium page: Distorted Visions
Score: 2.5/5 (rounded to 3/5)
Since this is an ARC, the review aims to be as Spoiler-free as possible.
The grimdark tale of vengeance, manipulation, tragedy, and power continues in the second offering in the Annals of an Incidental Utopia series. The sequel to Cryosurge, Crimson Dusk ups the ante and expands the world, pulling in more violence, terror, and intrigue.
This, after all, is grimdark.
Picking up where the events of Cryosurge left us, Crimson Dusk pushes the intertwining stories of the mercenary-assassin Korthe and the frost-shaman Idd. Korthe continues cutting a bloodsoaked path through those who wronged her, seeking ultimate vengeance, even if that means killing a God. The frost-shaman, Idd, gravely injured after his run-in with Korthe at the climax of the first entry of the series, must gather his wits, will, and magicks to keep his own demons at bay. His is a tale of the lengths one must go to avoid their destiny, only to be dragged right back in.
Following a similar-ish format to Cryosurge, individual chapters in Crimson Dusk tell near-self contained stories, while pushing the greater plot forward. This time around, the progression is more coherently linear, more akin to traditional dark fantasy novels, albeit with a few offshoots. In contrast to Cryosurge, Crimson Dusk feels more like Korthe’s novel, with Idd providing interludes.
In my review of Cryosurge, I bemoaned the debut author’s attempt to weave an episodic narrative style into a cogent and engaging tale, with the individual stories feeling far too disparate. Fortunately, Crimson Dusk goes a long way in righting the ship, and much of the narrative weaves together in a meaningful way.
However, many of my issues with Soulless’s writing persist in Crimson Dusk, though none of them have exacerbated. A lateral step is the feeling when reading this novel. Surprisingly, I felt less connected to the emotional heft of both Korthe and Idd in this offering. While I struggled to relate to the plight of Idd in the first novel, Korthe’s motivations felt more tangible, if trite and commonplace in grimdark tropes. However, in Crimson Dusk, Korthe’s tale felt like a Tarantino-esque Kill-Bill montage, where she carves a bloody murder canyon, with adamantium plot armor. A cornerstone of grimdark is a sense of dread, even for the “protagonists”. Nobody is safe, and even an errant move can end character arcs. Soulless takes away much (if not all) gravitas by making Korthe nigh-invulnerable. Self-described as a murderball gathering momentum, Korthe feels more power-fantasy, wish-fulfillment than a well-rounded character audiences will want to root for.
Idd, on the other hand, while muddled in Cryosurge, had a vague mystique about him, and there was always a feeling of a hidden hand behind his arc. In Crimson Dusk, his progression is flattened into a more stereotypical approach. While some of the clandestine elements are brought into light as the story progresses, his plot beats felt lackluster at best.
Soulless’ penchant for veering off on tangents persist in the sequel as well. Particularly, his “monster of the week” gimmick continues. His apparently random inclusion of the Carver — a mysterious monstrous creature wrecking the townsfolk felt like a short-story smashed into a broader story, with a passing influence on the overarching plot. This time around, the Carver is replaced by the Mortician. I did enjoy the dichotomous presentation of the Mortician’s chapter when contrasted by the medical examiner. Sadly, much of the shock value of such a character is lost on those of us who are too marinaded in blood and gore from other media. Like the Carver, the Mortician only briefly dips in and out of the story, with a link to a side character. Perhaps future offerings, will flesh out this character more, or introduce yet another “monster of the week”.
Lastly, while I do appreciate Soulless’ attempt to pin down more concrete checkpoints of plot and character progression, I still feel the lack of a core motivation or momentum carrying this series forwards. Unless this is a grandiose series, with several offerings, the Annals of Incidental Utopia isn't selling me on its world, characters, nor its overarching plot. Crimson Dusk trades self-congratulatory “there is something deeper here, you have to just wait to find out what it is; maybe the keener among you will pick up the pieces” approach for bland, flattened storytelling. The world is populated with faceless, wooden characters. Even the supposed antagonistic gods of this world, feel cartoonish and entirely non-menacing.
I did like the bird and the blade though!
Overall, Crimson Dusk feels like a half step forward and half a step to the side in its quality. While improving on some of the shortcomings of the previous offering, the sequel takes away emotional heft and character relatability. The worldbuilding broadens, but fills with caricatures instead of characters. And the tangents, seemingly random in the first book, now feel forced in the second. Sigh.
I want to like this series. I want to appreciate a different kind of storytelling. We need new voices in a diminishing niche like grimdark fantasy. Soulless can be that voice, and Annals of an Incidental Utopia can be that series to shake up the genre. But a harsh look is required, with an ironically sharp blade and cold heart, to mold this into a cutting series, lest it leaves us cold with disinterest.
Advanced Review Copy provided in exchange for an honest review. Thank you to the author, E. P. Soulless.
Score: 2.5/5 (rounded to 3/5)
Since this is an ARC, the review aims to be as Spoiler-free as possible.
The grimdark tale of vengeance, manipulation, tragedy, and power continues in the second offering in the Annals of an Incidental Utopia series. The sequel to Cryosurge, Crimson Dusk ups the ante and expands the world, pulling in more violence, terror, and intrigue.
This, after all, is grimdark.
Picking up where the events of Cryosurge left us, Crimson Dusk pushes the intertwining stories of the mercenary-assassin Korthe and the frost-shaman Idd. Korthe continues cutting a bloodsoaked path through those who wronged her, seeking ultimate vengeance, even if that means killing a God. The frost-shaman, Idd, gravely injured after his run-in with Korthe at the climax of the first entry of the series, must gather his wits, will, and magicks to keep his own demons at bay. His is a tale of the lengths one must go to avoid their destiny, only to be dragged right back in.
Following a similar-ish format to Cryosurge, individual chapters in Crimson Dusk tell near-self contained stories, while pushing the greater plot forward. This time around, the progression is more coherently linear, more akin to traditional dark fantasy novels, albeit with a few offshoots. In contrast to Cryosurge, Crimson Dusk feels more like Korthe’s novel, with Idd providing interludes.
In my review of Cryosurge, I bemoaned the debut author’s attempt to weave an episodic narrative style into a cogent and engaging tale, with the individual stories feeling far too disparate. Fortunately, Crimson Dusk goes a long way in righting the ship, and much of the narrative weaves together in a meaningful way.
However, many of my issues with Soulless’s writing persist in Crimson Dusk, though none of them have exacerbated. A lateral step is the feeling when reading this novel. Surprisingly, I felt less connected to the emotional heft of both Korthe and Idd in this offering. While I struggled to relate to the plight of Idd in the first novel, Korthe’s motivations felt more tangible, if trite and commonplace in grimdark tropes. However, in Crimson Dusk, Korthe’s tale felt like a Tarantino-esque Kill-Bill montage, where she carves a bloody murder canyon, with adamantium plot armor. A cornerstone of grimdark is a sense of dread, even for the “protagonists”. Nobody is safe, and even an errant move can end character arcs. Soulless takes away much (if not all) gravitas by making Korthe nigh-invulnerable. Self-described as a murderball gathering momentum, Korthe feels more power-fantasy, wish-fulfillment than a well-rounded character audiences will want to root for.
Idd, on the other hand, while muddled in Cryosurge, had a vague mystique about him, and there was always a feeling of a hidden hand behind his arc. In Crimson Dusk, his progression is flattened into a more stereotypical approach. While some of the clandestine elements are brought into light as the story progresses, his plot beats felt lackluster at best.
Soulless’ penchant for veering off on tangents persist in the sequel as well. Particularly, his “monster of the week” gimmick continues. His apparently random inclusion of the Carver — a mysterious monstrous creature wrecking the townsfolk felt like a short-story smashed into a broader story, with a passing influence on the overarching plot. This time around, the Carver is replaced by the Mortician. I did enjoy the dichotomous presentation of the Mortician’s chapter when contrasted by the medical examiner. Sadly, much of the shock value of such a character is lost on those of us who are too marinaded in blood and gore from other media. Like the Carver, the Mortician only briefly dips in and out of the story, with a link to a side character. Perhaps future offerings, will flesh out this character more, or introduce yet another “monster of the week”.
Lastly, while I do appreciate Soulless’ attempt to pin down more concrete checkpoints of plot and character progression, I still feel the lack of a core motivation or momentum carrying this series forwards. Unless this is a grandiose series, with several offerings, the Annals of Incidental Utopia isn't selling me on its world, characters, nor its overarching plot. Crimson Dusk trades self-congratulatory “there is something deeper here, you have to just wait to find out what it is; maybe the keener among you will pick up the pieces” approach for bland, flattened storytelling. The world is populated with faceless, wooden characters. Even the supposed antagonistic gods of this world, feel cartoonish and entirely non-menacing.
I did like the bird and the blade though!
Overall, Crimson Dusk feels like a half step forward and half a step to the side in its quality. While improving on some of the shortcomings of the previous offering, the sequel takes away emotional heft and character relatability. The worldbuilding broadens, but fills with caricatures instead of characters. And the tangents, seemingly random in the first book, now feel forced in the second. Sigh.
I want to like this series. I want to appreciate a different kind of storytelling. We need new voices in a diminishing niche like grimdark fantasy. Soulless can be that voice, and Annals of an Incidental Utopia can be that series to shake up the genre. But a harsh look is required, with an ironically sharp blade and cold heart, to mold this into a cutting series, lest it leaves us cold with disinterest.
Advanced Review Copy provided in exchange for an honest review. Thank you to the author, E. P. Soulless.
August 13, 2025
Disclaimer: I was one of the beta readers for Book 2 of the Incidental Utopia.
Crimson Dusk is a towering achievement, a sprawling and intricate tapestry of dark fantasy that is as intellectually rewarding as it is unflinchingly brutal. Picking up where the first installment of Annals of the Incidental Utopia left off, this second volume plunges the reader back into a world teetering on the brink, not with a gentle nudge, but with a cataclysmic shove. This is epic fantasy at its most ambitious and most grim, and it is utterly captivating.
The strength of Crimson Dusk lies in its staggering world-building and profound character depth. The narrative is woven through the eyes of a diverse and deeply compelling cast. We follow Idd, a disgraced Frost-shaman whose internal battles with addiction and regret are as harrowing as any physical conflict he faces. We walk in the blood-soaked boots of Korthe, the "Minx," an assassin whose quest for revenge is a haunting exploration of trauma and the lies we tell ourselves to survive. These characters are not heroes in any traditional sense; they are broken, morally grey survivors, and their journeys are rendered with such raw honesty that it’s impossible to look away. Soulless masterfully expands the world, introducing new factions like the revolutionary King and his followers, and delving deeper into the dysfunctional pantheon of Moon-Gods, whose divine squabbles have very real, and very bloody, consequences for the mortal realms.
The prose is another high point, shifting from visceral, bone-crunching action to moments of quiet, philosophical introspection with seamless grace. The author's voice is confident and evocative, painting a world that feels ancient, lived-in, and perpetually wounded. The narrative structure, which includes in-world historical texts and interludes from the perspective of a sentient, malevolent force, adds layers of lore and intrigue that enrich the main plotlines. It’s a bold and effective storytelling choice that trusts the reader to keep up.
If there is critique to be leveled, it is that the book’s greatest strength, its complexity, can also be its most challenging aspect. The sheer density of the plot, with its many threads, shifting perspectives, and unique terminology, demands a reader’s full attention. While the convergence of these storylines in the book's explosive climax is masterful, the journey there can occasionally feel like navigating a labyrinth in a storm. This is a minor quibble, however, for a book that aims so high and hits its mark so consistently.
Crimson Dusk is not a story for the faint of heart. It is a dark, demanding, and often devastating read, but it is also one of the most rewarding fantasy epics I have encountered. It’s a story that will linger long after the final page, a testament to the power of character-driven fantasy that isn’t afraid to stare into the abyss. An absolute must-read.
Crimson Dusk is a towering achievement, a sprawling and intricate tapestry of dark fantasy that is as intellectually rewarding as it is unflinchingly brutal. Picking up where the first installment of Annals of the Incidental Utopia left off, this second volume plunges the reader back into a world teetering on the brink, not with a gentle nudge, but with a cataclysmic shove. This is epic fantasy at its most ambitious and most grim, and it is utterly captivating.
The strength of Crimson Dusk lies in its staggering world-building and profound character depth. The narrative is woven through the eyes of a diverse and deeply compelling cast. We follow Idd, a disgraced Frost-shaman whose internal battles with addiction and regret are as harrowing as any physical conflict he faces. We walk in the blood-soaked boots of Korthe, the "Minx," an assassin whose quest for revenge is a haunting exploration of trauma and the lies we tell ourselves to survive. These characters are not heroes in any traditional sense; they are broken, morally grey survivors, and their journeys are rendered with such raw honesty that it’s impossible to look away. Soulless masterfully expands the world, introducing new factions like the revolutionary King and his followers, and delving deeper into the dysfunctional pantheon of Moon-Gods, whose divine squabbles have very real, and very bloody, consequences for the mortal realms.
The prose is another high point, shifting from visceral, bone-crunching action to moments of quiet, philosophical introspection with seamless grace. The author's voice is confident and evocative, painting a world that feels ancient, lived-in, and perpetually wounded. The narrative structure, which includes in-world historical texts and interludes from the perspective of a sentient, malevolent force, adds layers of lore and intrigue that enrich the main plotlines. It’s a bold and effective storytelling choice that trusts the reader to keep up.
If there is critique to be leveled, it is that the book’s greatest strength, its complexity, can also be its most challenging aspect. The sheer density of the plot, with its many threads, shifting perspectives, and unique terminology, demands a reader’s full attention. While the convergence of these storylines in the book's explosive climax is masterful, the journey there can occasionally feel like navigating a labyrinth in a storm. This is a minor quibble, however, for a book that aims so high and hits its mark so consistently.
Crimson Dusk is not a story for the faint of heart. It is a dark, demanding, and often devastating read, but it is also one of the most rewarding fantasy epics I have encountered. It’s a story that will linger long after the final page, a testament to the power of character-driven fantasy that isn’t afraid to stare into the abyss. An absolute must-read.
September 7, 2025
Even more fun than the first book.
September 16, 2025
If you liked the first, you'll love the second...
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
Displaying 1 - 5 of 5 reviews