Luther - Lord of the First by Gav Thorpe.
Anyone with even a passing interest in the Dark Angels knows of the Fallen — and of the ruthless lengths the Chapter will go to in order to reclaim one. Entire settlements have been silenced for the simple misfortune of glimpsing a figure who might have belonged to that damned brotherhood. The Inner Circle guards this shame with fanatical devotion, hiding it not only from the Imperium at large but from their own sons. In a Chapter built on secrets, suspicion, and half-truths, such behaviour is almost expected.
What is not expected is that the Fallen are not the greatest secret the Dark Angels keep. Deep within the hollowed remnants of Caliban — the asteroid-fortress now known as the Rock — lies a cell sealed in semi-stasis, its occupant known only to the highest echelons of the Chapter’s leadership. The prisoner has been altered and sustained by the finest Chirurgeons the Imperium could offer, enhanced with relic knowledge from the Dark Age of Technology. Yet for all these augmentations, he remains a man: one without gene-seed, but shaped to stand as close to an Astartes as flesh alone can allow.
That prisoner is Luther — the Arch-betrayer, the mentor and adoptive father of Lion EL'Jonson himself. Luther: First of the Fallen is his tale. It begins before the Lion’s rise from the feral forests of Caliban, follows Luther’s life as a knight and hero of the Great Crusade, traces his first steps into forbidden Warp lore, and charts the slow, poisonous descent into envy, pride, and ruin.
Before stepping into my own thoughts, it’s worth saying this: Luther: First of the Fallen feels less like a story and more like a fly on the wall view at the conversations that take place within his cell; someone shouldn’t have let slip. It leaves just enough unsaid to make you lean in closer—and that’s exactly where my impressions begin.
I went into this novella with low expectations, half‑convinced I’d just push through it to get it out of the way. I have to admit I was wrong. From the opening chapters, I found myself far more engaged than I expected. I should have approached it with a neutral mindset, because what I found was a surprisingly compelling account. Beginning with Luther’s early years as a squire of the knightly orders of Caliban, the story gives a stark, honest look at the roots of the conflict that defines the Dark Angels’ tortured relationship with the Fallen.
Luther’s perspective isn’t what you might expect. Where many of the Fallen are portrayed as bitter, spiteful figures weighed down by centuries of resentment, Luther comes across as a regretful participant — a man who recognises his mistakes yet remains trapped in their consequences. No matter how many times he speaks the truth, he is condemned as a liar, and the cycle of disbelief and torment becomes its own form of eternal
Luther’s perspective isn’t what you might expect. Where many of the Fallen are portrayed as bitter, spiteful figures weighed down by centuries of resentment, Luther comes across as a regretful participant — a man who recognises his mistakes yet remains trapped in their consequences. No matter how many times he speaks the truth, he is condemned as a liar, and the cycle of disbelief and torment becomes its own form of eternal punishment. His fractured sense of self is portrayed with real force, making it clear that even his endless incarceration is not enough to balance the debt he owes the Lion.
The character work is centred almost entirely on Luther, reinforcing his pivotal place in Dark Angels history. Other figures appear only in brief, shifting snapshots as time moves within his narration. The writing style shifts between his present‑day conversations with successive Chapter Masters and his recollections of the past, giving the story a layered, almost confessional feel. Caliban itself is vividly realised — a lethal world of monstrous predators and constant danger — and the descriptions of its great beasts add real weight to the setting.
If you’re after a quick hit of Dark Angels lore, this novella is well worth your time. It offers a rare look at the events leading up to Caliban’s destruction, and you may find yourself as unexpectedly drawn in as I was. In the end, Luther: First of the Fallen stands as a sharp reminder that the Dark Angels’ past is far more complicated than the legends allow. It doesn’t excuse Luther, nor does it condemn him outright; instead, it leaves you sitting with the uncomfortable truth that some wounds in the Imperium never truly heal. For a brief moment, in a Chapter built on silence and half‑truths, this novella offers a rare moment of clarity — brief, unsettling, and absolutely worth the read.
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