If what hooked you in Dark Is the Sun was the perilous overland journey across a ruined, end‑of‑time Earth—scrounging for food, dodging bizarre predators, and treating ancient remnants like talismans—you’ll love Hothouse. Aldiss throws you into a world overgrown by monstrous flora where tiny, dwindling humans cling to life on the margins. The constant movement, narrow escapes, and ingenious survival tactics echo the trek across the sun-blasted plains and mutant-haunted forests you enjoyed, with that same “every step could be your last” tension.

In Dark Is the Sun, the old world’s devices work like miracles in the hands of wanderers who barely grasp them. The Shadow of the Torturer channels that same vibe: Severian’s journey through a dying Urth is steeped in relics and rituals so old they’re indistinguishable from magic. Cathedrals hide forgotten machines, guilds enforce traditions whose purposes have been lost to time, and every “marvel” hints at buried technology. If the godlike relics and temple‑like ruins thrilled you, Wolfe’s layered mysteries will scratch the same itch.

Part of the wonder in Dark Is the Sun is realizing just how many ages have passed—how the sun is failing and history lies in unguessable strata beneath your feet. In The City and the Stars, Alvin leaves the eternal city of Diaspar to uncover what’s left of humanity after eons. Vaulted memories, vanished empires, and journeys across a desolate Earth deliver that same heady awe. If you loved uncovering remnants of unimaginable antiquity and sensing entire epochs behind every ruin, Clarke doubles down on that cosmic timescale.

If the long, danger‑ridden trek through a terminal world in Dark Is the Sun drew you in, The Night Land is that feeling distilled. Humanity survives within the Last Redoubt while the darkened Earth crawls with vast, unknowable entities. The protagonist’s outward journey—skirting colossal hazards, reading the land’s threats like a map, and pushing forward despite cosmic dread—mirrors the relentless push across lethal territory you enjoyed, only with the terror and grandeur turned up to mythic levels.

One delight of Dark Is the Sun is how every mile reveals a new creature, culture, or relic—like leafing through a naturalist’s field guide to the very end of time. Hiero’s Journey offers that same pleasure. Brother Hiero crosses a post‑apocalyptic wilderness filled with mutant fauna, telepaths, and predatory societies, piecing together old tech and local lore to survive. If you enjoyed encountering meticulously imagined beasts, odd tribes, and dangerous artifacts along the trail, this richly detailed expedition will feel like home.