Spoiler-y zone! Excuse my language. 
 Well, shit. I'm conflicted. 
 I stayed up till the wee hours reading Golden Son. Then I sat there, in my bed, and stared at the wall for about an hour. 
 Praise where praise is due. Golden Son deserves all the stars. Does that mean I loved it? No. I'm upset as hell. However, Red Rising + Golden Son are possibly my favorite dystopian reads. 
 Pierce Brown books make me curse like a sailor. I don't know. Something about Sevro. That slimy Jackal. And pretty much everyone dying. 
 Golden Son felt like this big mystery novel. Darrow is a very dramatic narrator. The strange jumps, man. He doesn't tell you things when they happen, but when it's convenient. The bag scene--he just doesn't say what's in it until he wants to move forward with the plot, which is a chapter later! Ain't nobody got time for that kind of tension. He also learned super cool ninja moves during his stay at the academy but you don't know that until he's fighting at the gala. Why must he insist on revealing things when it's suited to his comfort and not when they actually happen? It's called first person POV! Slag that, Brown, it's a cheap trick. 
 I can write a dissertation on the ending to Golden Son. I will just say FUCK YOU, Cassius. 
 I loved Eo. I hate Eo. I knew Eo's secret from the moment Darrow asked her sister what she said before being hanged. I fucking knew it. What a bitch! 
 I loved Roque. He was hands down my favorite player. Roque gave me hope when shit was going sideways, and then he just turns into a good-for-nothing loser. You're done, Roque. Have a nice day, you backstabbing cockroach. You went from Huffleclaw to Voldemort on crack. 
 Tactus, you were kind of a dick. Why'd you have to keep the violin and practice in secret? Dear God. Why? So I can feel bad about your death? Well, mission fucking accomplished. 
 Ares wasn't that much of a shocker to me. The reference to Ares/Rage Knight's helmet was a dead giveaway. 
 There are so many plans and alliances and battles and deaths, we just need a breather, man. Jesus Christ, I can't. 
 Seriously. Who do you trust anymore? NO ONE. The answer is no one. 
 Pierce Brown, I hate you and I love you. 
 I just have one question. 
 Darrow, did you use protection?