Ever since I read Allegiant on release day and marathoned it until that controversial ending, I've somehow been unable to finish any of Veronica Roth's other books. They sound right up my alley, but something holds me back—until now with Arch-Conspirator.

"It's not cowardice to run from an inferno rather than spit water at it... It's survival."

I loved this reimagining of such a brutal and tragic play. I think it's hard to comprehend Oedipus's family and specifically Antigone's life because of the elephant in the room—incest—but somehow Veronica Roth twisted this play into her own dystopian, sci-fi whims and created something just as painful yet warning readers of humanity's prejudices and self-destructive nature.

"Defiance leads to instability, and instability leads to extinction."

In a world where radiation has devastated the planet, the last city on Earth survives in its safe lil' bubble, hoping for the day where they can inhabit the rest of the planet again. Humans have reached "immortality" through the Archive, where genes of every dead human are stored, and nearly no natural conceptions occur due to the prejudice that those born naturally, without the Archive, do not have souls. Souls are Extracted within 48 hours of the individual's demise, and an Extractor is placed under their bellybutton to retrieve the soul. You find out later due to context clues that the "soul" is actually that individual's sex cells (sperm or eggs), which creates a fascinating conversation about identity and ancestry. Are we destined to be exactly like our ancestors? I'd immediately say "no," but then my question becomes "why/ how did this world start to see sex cells as immortality?" My only answer was: when the world is a ravaged wasteland of natural disasters or even radiation, what will we believe about ourselves to bring comfort?

Anything.

"Silence, I supposed, is its own kind of message and its own kind of ending. Just not one that anyone wants to hear."

Antigone and her siblings were conceived naturally. Oedipus and Jocasta wanted children that looked just like them, and now the rest of their city sees these children as grotesque, soulless shells. They're a cry against nature in this city's eyes, and they pay the price for it. Antigone and her siblings lose their parents after a violent riot. The first freely elected leader—Oedipus—dies by violence, and now she and her three siblings live with their uncle Kreon, who is a tyrant in everything but name. A lot of pain and hatred boil under Antigone's skin because of these circumstances, and she cannot withhold it when she's around her siblings Pol and Ismene. Her oldest brother Eteocles actually plays servant to Kreon, so their relationship is pretty much nonexistent at this point. And just like in the original Antigone play, familicide and rebellion force the plot to unfurl at top speed. Antigone was destined to be retold in a sci-fi, dystopia lens, and I'm so thankful Roth wrote it for readers.

"You'll never fear your wife. But every wife fears her husband, even if she doesn't say so."

Arch-Conspirator does not leave much room for twiddling thumbs or slow conversation. It's 128 pages of pure rage and loyalty. Antigone is my favorite kind of heroine. She's prickly and frank, angry and empathetic. She makes a promise to her brother in a restaurant and will throw her own life away to keep said promise. My only critique is that I wish I had more pages of her. I wish we got to see some of the siblings longer, but I also understand why their time was cut short because this is Antigone's story. Antigone reminded me of a young girl named Tris, but also, Antigone was wholly her own with a sense of self and direction most characters could never dream of having. She's got a destiny, a plan, and she'll see it through.

"I asked my father, once, why he chose to curse us before we were born. Because to be born as my siblings and I were was to be doomed from the start."

In many ways, Arch-Conspirator is one of the most true-to-source reimaginings that I've read in a long time. The end definitely switches gears in its own unique conclusion, but I still think it is extremely reminiscent of the play's end. Also, while I don't know tons of details about Antigone, I loved the relationships explored by Roth. The engagement tension between Antigone and Haemon, Kreon's son and heir, was one of the most notable. Again, I wish we got more page time with them because of Antigone's initial hatred of him, which blends into neutrality and curiosity by the end—maybe even a bit of regret.

"One age's horror is another age's wonder..."

I'll always have an infinite amount of questions when it comes to this world, characters, etc. because it's a fascinating novella. My time was limited, but I'm so happy that I got to explore it in the time I had. If you're a fan of the original Antigone and have a taste for sci-fi and dystopia, please pick this up.

"All women in our city know the procedures for losing a spouse. But there are no procedures for losing a child."

Thank you Tor Books for an early finished copy to review. All thoughts and opinions are my own.