The villain's a poet, the weapon is verse, and the whole world's a stage.

The Ar'dath-Irr's final act is nearly complete — and the applause will be apocalyptic.

Oscar Teabag-Dooven, once a Velvet Paw, is all that stands between a fractured universe and total obliteration.

But Oscar wanted to be a poet, not a hero, not a destroyer, and certainly not the most loathed animal on the planet. After his avant-garde recital triggers mass death, suspicious reincarnations and catastrophic misunderstandings involving curry, he's the only one left to blame.

With his reputation in ruins and a war effort rising, Oscar and a huge cast must navigate a broken world filled with inverted corpses, bureaucratic pani, and a vengeful poet-dog whose power defies life itself. Revenge seems like the only reasonable response — but in a world where hugs are abolished and poetry causes mass casualties, reason is a dangerous thing.

Joined by armies and navies orchestrated under Operation Fluffy Cloud, Oscar must confront his greatest fear: that this entire war might just be about him.

This is the climax of the Morigan Tetralogy: where poetry bends worlds, villains wear metaphors, and the end of everything smells faintly of cinnamon and petrol.

This is it. No rewrites. No edits. Just the end of the world.

"Highly likely they take longer to read than they do to write." - Gary, Freelance Impregnator.
"While reading this I was transported elsewhere, although I was on a bus at the time." - Karen Dubonis, Breeder.
"I am literally lost for words. But not nearly as lost as the author." - Stamford Black, Designer.