If the sheer, apocalyptic scale of the Webway War and the Emperor personally holding the gate in The Master of Mankind grabbed you, you’ll love Dune. Herbert delivers empire-shaping conflicts, prophetic rulers, and sacred politics on the level of the Emperor’s designs for humanity—complete with knife-edge battles for a future that feels as heavy with history as the Imperial Dungeon beneath Terra.

You were drawn to how the Emperor’s grand plan demands terrible prices—seen in his ceaseless stand in the Webway and Valdor’s ruthless calculus. Use of Weapons threads the same needles: a master operative’s past and purpose are peeled back to question what ends justify which means, echoing the way The Master of Mankind probes whether salvation can be built on necessary atrocities.

If you appreciated the Custodians’ grim pragmatism and Constantin Valdor’s ice-cold choices—and even Arkhan Land’s opportunism amid daemon sieges—The Black Company puts you in the boots of professionals who keep marching for causes that are never clean. Like the Sisters of Silence taking orders that stain the conscience, these mercenaries wrestle with orders, oaths, and the price of survival.

Loved how The Master of Mankind braided Custodians, Sisters of Silence, and Mechanicum viewpoints to reveal the hidden war beneath Terra? Hyperion builds its mystery through multiple voices—the pilgrims’ tales layer revelation on revelation much like Ra’s frontline horror contrasts with Arkhan Land’s descent into the Palace’s secrets—culminating in a broader, more unsettling picture of the conflict.

If the vaulted halls of the Imperial Dungeon, the Sisters’ null-lit sanctums, and the Mechanicum’s relic-worshipping labs captivated you, The Shadow of the Torturer offers that same cathedral-like density of lore. Its far-future world reads like Terra’s hidden levels—antique machines treated as sacred mysteries and a culture layered in ritual, echoing the techno-mysticism suffusing the Webway war.