Most superhero stories tell us the same thing. Heroes are born to save us. Powers are good. And villains? They’re just bad people. But Brandon Sanderson turns all of that upside down in Firefight, the second book in The Reckoners series.

And I loved it.

Let’s start with the big idea. In this world, people who gain superpowers—called Epics—don’t become heroes. They become tyrants. They destroy. They rule. They fear nothing and no one.

The story follows David, a regular human with no powers. He’s not special in the usual way. But he’s smart. Driven. And slightly awkward, which makes him more real. He’s part of a rebel group called the Reckoners. Their mission? To take down the Epics.

Now, that’s already an interesting twist. But what makes Firefight stand out is this: It questions the idea that power corrupts. Instead, it quietly asks—what if people became monsters because they were afraid?

Sanderson doesn’t hit you over the head with this theme. He lets it simmer. It comes through in the way the characters act, how they change, and especially in how David grows.

When I first read Steelheart, the book before this one, I expected explosions and big fights. And yes, those are here in Firefight too. But there’s something deeper going on.

In Firefight, the story moves from Newcago to Babylon Restored (a drowned version of New York City). It’s surreal. Glowing graffiti, floating buildings, and endless night. The setting itself feels like a dream—or a nightmare. But it’s beautiful too. Sanderson is great at building places that feel alive.

And here’s where my opinion might differ from most readers: I think the setting is more important than the plot. Yes, the action is fun. Yes, the mystery keeps you hooked. But the world itself speaks volumes. It reflects the fear, the chaos, and even the hope people carry.

David continues to search for answers—about the Epics, about his friend Megan (aka Firefight), and about his own beliefs. He’s a mess sometimes. He tells terrible metaphors. But I like that. It makes him human.

What surprised me most was the romantic angle. I usually don’t like romance in action stories. It feels forced. But here, it feels earned. David doesn’t fall in love with a perfect version of Megan. He wrestles with who she is—and who she might become. That conflict adds layers to both of them.

Some readers want clear heroes and villains. This book doesn’t give you that. And that’s a good thing. It gives you people trying to make the right choices in a world that punishes them for it.

Now, let me say something that might sound odd: I don’t think this book is about defeating evil.

I think it’s about understanding it.

Most stories tell us to fight harder, push stronger, never give up. Firefight tells us to pause. To ask why someone might fall. To consider that maybe, just maybe, a villain is someone who never had the chance to heal.

That’s what makes this book hopeful. Not because it gives us easy wins. But because it shows us that change—real change—takes more than power. It takes patience. Trust. And belief in the good that still might be buried deep.

I’ll be honest. This book didn’t blow me away in the way some of Sanderson’s fantasy epics have. But I don’t think that was the point. Firefight isn’t trying to impress. It’s trying to connect.

It’s saying, “Look. Even in a broken world, there’s room to care.”

That message matters.

Here’s another unusual thing I liked: the pacing. Some readers say the middle slows down. But I found those moments refreshing. It gave space for questions. For doubt. For quiet wonder. We don’t get enough of that in fiction anymore.

The action is still here, though. Don’t worry. Lasers, illusions, epic fights—they’re all present. But they don’t outshine the heart of the story.

And Sanderson, as always, writes with clarity. No long, confusing paragraphs. No fancy words for the sake of being clever. Just solid storytelling that flows.

This is young adult fiction done right. Simple, but not shallow. Exciting, but not mindless. And best of all, thoughtful.

Final thoughts? Firefight is more than a superhero novel. It’s a story about choice. About fear. And about how the people we love might fall—but still deserve a second chance.

I recommend this book if you want something different. Something that leaves you thinking after the last page. Not about how cool the powers were—but about how fragile hope can be, and how worth it it is to hold onto.

So no, Firefight isn’t your usual action blockbuster. It’s smarter than that. Softer too. And in my opinion, that’s what makes it powerful.

Even without powers.