4.5 star read.

This book is dark, gritty, and such a one-sitting book. Gillespie nails the Southern Gothic vibe. The writing is sharp, the pacing is tight, and the characters are flawed in the best way. It’s a story where you know things won’t end well, but you can’t stop reading anyways.

If you like your reads heavy, haunting and a little biblical in tone, this one’s worth your time.

Brandon Gillespie has crafted something special with God's Gonna Cut You Down, a science fiction novel that doesn't shy away from difficult themes while delivering the world-building and character development that made Atom Bomb Baby so compelling. Don't worry if you haven't read the first book; this works perfectly as a standalone story.

What Works: Diego is an incredibly well-developed protagonist. At fourteen, he's dealing with depression, isolation, and being marked as an outsider on Serenity Orbital. Gillespie captures the authentic voice of a teen struggling with mental health in ways that feel real rather than preachy. The transformation Diego undergoes throughout the story is both believable and deeply satisfying.
The world-building continues to impress. Serenity Orbital feels lived-in and dangerous, with its different rings creating distinct environments that serve the story. The void creatures (growlers) are genuinely unsettling, think zombies in space, but with eerie human traits that make them far more disturbing.

Gillespie's pacing is excellent, especially considering much of the early story focuses on Diego alone. Just when things risk slowing down, new characters appear to shift the dynamic. The author knows exactly when to reveal information and when to hold back.

Content Notes: The author includes a thoughtful letter acknowledging this book's exploration of depression and isolation. There's discussion of mental health struggles, some violence involving the creatures, and themes of abandonment. It's handled with care and ultimately offers hope, but sensitive readers should be aware.

Who Should Read This: Perfect for YA readers (14+) who enjoy character-driven sci-fi, especially those who feel like outsiders or are navigating mental health challenges. Adult readers who appreciate thoughtful exploration of difficult themes will also find value here. If you enjoyed Pierce Brown's Red Rising or Suzanne Collins' The Hunger Games, this should be on your list.

Final Thoughts: God's Gonna Cut You Down proves that YA science fiction can tackle serious subjects without sacrificing hope or adventure. Gillespie has created a story that will resonate with young adults facing similar struggles while entertaining readers who simply want quality sci-fi. The emotional authenticity combined with solid world-building makes this a standout in the YA genre.

Highly recommended for teens, parents, educators, and anyone who believes science fiction can be both entertaining and emotionally meaningful.

I enjoyed Atom Bomb Baby a lot so being in this world again was enjoyable. It isn't an easy read. our MC struggles a lot and it takes some time getting into it but where Brandon Gillespie strives is characters' interaction during conflict. It has some mental health themes that felt really relatable and it was an easy sci-fi young adult read.

[SPOILERS]

It had a rough start, some questionable points like the plastic cup in the early chapters and felt like a pretty long book despite it only being 372 pages. At first I was leaning towards a 3 star review since it was a bit frustrating reading about Diego just getting morally beat down so often, Raphael manipulating people without much problem and the grittiness of the book made me feel a bit sick. However, everything in act 3 really pulled it together. I do feel like there's a lot of loose ends like "What happens with the Sammy's pendant? Does he ever get a memorial?" And I feel like Carlos could have been more involved considering how he was set up at the main villain yet was only used as a tool by Raphael in the later chapters. I wish Luca and Diego had more bonding time, along with the rest of the Desterrados.

I really like how Diego and Raphael's conflict was resolved but it felt unfinished at the end. It makes me wonder... Is there gonna be a sequel? Cause seeing all of these questions left unanswered definitely tells me yes.

As a last note, the bit where Diego's guilty pleasure of reading magazines were a bit weird at first but then when it was revealed to be specifically food magazines? I definitely got a good laugh out of that.

Overall great book!! Would very much recommend this to Red Rising readers. :)

Potentially Star Wars meets the Maze Runner?!

Meet Diego, a boy who is exiled from his community on account of a crime that he's not sure he even committed. Join him in discovering hidden places and stories while he tries to find his way back home.

Loss, loneliness, independence and wanting to feel like you belong are themes present in the book and its really great for teens especially those that are struggling to feel hope. I really enjoyed that our protagonist's emotions were met with understanding and it pushed back against the narrative of grumpy young tweens/teens.

It is a an incredibly detailed and wonderous adventure!

God’s Gonna Cut You Down by Brandon Gillespie opens on the edge of terror and the grip never loosens. The story begins with thirteen-year-old Diego evacuating alongside a crowd of desperate survivors as a Kraal — an extra-dimensional horror — tears through their station. In a moment that defines the rest of his journey, he watches his parents dissolve at its touch, and the creature leaves a psychic imprint in his mind before vanishing. The station’s only hope lies in its ring-to-ring transport network, the Serenity Link, which houses what remains of humanity across five sectors. But instead of comforting him, the evacuees turn on Diego, certain that his birthmarks, violet-flecked eye, and eerie calm mean he is either a growler or tied to the Kraal. What none of them know is that Diego has quietly protected them his whole life — gifted with the ability to sense void terrors and “mask” himself from their awareness. That unspoken guardianship makes his exile even more tragic. Labeled a monster and cast into the abandoned lower rings by a ruling zealot named Carlos, Diego is forced to survive alone amid the ruins — where broken echoes of civilization still cling to the walls. His mission is not chosen but weaponized: find the Kraal and destroy it, or die in the shadows carrying a burden no one else has the courage to face.

The emotional strength of the novel lies in how it widens from spectacle into something deeply human. Gillespie doesn’t just give us a dystopian threat — he gives us the loneliness of being feared for the very gift that keeps others alive. Through Diego’s flashbacks to Donna, the only girl who ever treated him with kindness, we see what acceptance once felt like and why its absence weighs so heavily now. The characters around him are sharply drawn: Raphael embodies cowardly groupthink; Carlos wields faith like a chain; Miguel retreats in silence rather than risk defending a friend. Diego is written with a balance of fragility and instinctive resilience — still a boy, but a boy who stands between oblivion and everyone else. The world-building is delivered with a cinematic slowness that works in its favor: each ring is distinct in culture, religion, and aesthetic, from the devotional iconography of Bravo Ring to the quiet rot of the abandoned Delta and Echo corridors known as the lower rings. The Kraal itself remains terrifying not just because it kills, but because its nature tilts into the eldritch — unknowable, invasive, almost theological in its inscrutability. The style feels modern and atmospheric, reminiscent of works like Scythe by Neal Shusterman — a YA dystopian world built around spiritual dread, moral authority, and young protagonists pushed into impossible roles — only here the threat is cosmic rather than institutional. Like Scythe, this book asks what it means to be chosen — not as a savior through glory, but through suffering and isolation. In every scene, Gillespie leans into tension and emotional texture, pairing visceral imagery with a sense of spiritual dislocation that lingers. It’s not just an apocalyptic story — it’s a haunting study of what happens when a society feels safer blaming its protector than facing the darkness at its door.