The Abyss of Ruin loomed before Grendolf, Sylvara, Lioness, and his familia—Lirien, Torren, and Myra—their hybrid forms still jarring, their cat ears twitching atop hairless, human-like skin. The strange garments woven with Blight-runes clung to them, a constant reminder of the Order of the Blight’s curse. Starclaw pulsed in Grendolf’s grip, its azure glow bolstered by the spirit’s magic, while Bloodfang and Sunfang cast their crimson and golden lights. Aeloria’s cleansing herbs had sharpened their senses, but the Toxinheart’s influence pulsed stronger as they neared the crater’s edge. The Canids’ howls echoed, signaling war, but a new horror was about to unfold.

A piercing scream shattered the dawn. Grendolf’s enhanced senses snapped to attention, his glowing eyes scanning the ridge. A group of Cat Warrior civilians—refugees from nearby villages fleeing the Canid advance—stumbled toward them. Their fur was falling away in clumps, revealing smooth, human-like skin. Their cat ears remained, twitching in panic, as their bodies morphed into the same cursed hybrid form that afflicted Grendolf’s group. Their traditional pelts dissolved, replaced by rune-stitched garments like those Grendolf wore. Some clutched tools, others kits, all wide-eyed with terror.

“What’s happening?” Myra whimpered, clutching the amulet Aeloria had given her. Lirien pulled her close, her own hybrid face grim.

Sylvara’s tail flicked, Bloodfang raised. “The Toxinheart. It’s spreading the curse.”

Grendolf’s vision flared—a rune pulsing green in the Abyss, tendrils of toxic energy seeping across Felaria, twisting flesh. The Shroud’s plan was clear: transform all Cat Warriors into hybrids, stripping their pride and strength, sowing chaos before the Canids struck. “The Order’s weakening us for the war,” he growled.

A civilian, a young weaver named Kaelis, staggered forward, her new skin glistening, her cat ears pinned. “It started at dawn,” she gasped. “The air shimmered, and our fur… it just vanished. The runes on these clothes—they burn!” She tore at her tunic, revealing faintly glowing Blight-runes etched into the fabric.

Torren examined the runes, his forge-trained eyes narrowing. “These are conduits. The Toxinheart’s magic is spreading through the air, latching onto our kind. It’s targeting civilians first—those without blades to resist.”

Lioness’s ears twitched, her guilt heavy. “The Shroud planned this. My betrayal gave them time to perfect this curse. I thought it was just us…”

Grendolf’s spirit-enhanced reflexes surged, Starclaw flaring as he sensed movement. A Canid scout crept along the ridge, its bone spear glinting. Sylvara moved in a blur, Bloodfang slicing the scout’s throat before it could signal others. “They’re watching,” she hissed. “The curse makes us vulnerable, and the Canids know it.”

Kaelis knelt, tears streaming down her hybrid face. “Our kits… they’re changing too. What do we do?”

Grendolf’s heart ached, memories of Tiro’s rescue and his familia’s captivity fueling his resolve. “We take the fight to the Abyss. Destroy the Toxinheart, end the curse.” He turned to the civilians. “Find shelter. Spread word to resist the runes—burn the cursed clothes if you can.”

Lirien stepped forward, her voice steady despite her altered form. “I’ll lead them to Eldervale. Aeloria’s herbs might slow the curse. We’ll rally the Starwardens’ remnants.”

Torren nodded, gripping his hammer. “I’ll go with them. My forge can craft wards to counter the runes.”

Myra clung to Grendolf, her hybrid face fierce. “I’m staying with you. I want to fight.”

Grendolf hesitated, then handed her a small dagger, its blade etched with star-runes. “Stay close, Myra.” He looked to Sylvara and Lioness. “We end this now.”

The civilians, led by Lirien and Torren, retreated toward Eldervale, their hybrid forms a haunting mirror of Grendolf’s own. The Abyss’s green glow pulsed stronger, the Toxinheart’s power spreading like a plague. Canid howls grew louder, joined by the shrieks of Mutated Ones, signaling the war’s escalation. Grendolf, Sylvara, Lioness, and Myra descended into the crater, their blades—Starclaw, Bloodfang, Sunfang—glowing defiantly. The spirit’s magic surged in Grendolf, his hybrid body stronger despite the curse.

As they neared the Abyss’s heart, a massive rune pulsed, guarded by Mutated Ones and Canids under the Shroud’s command. The curse had transformed Felaria’s people, but Grendolf’s resolve burned brighter. For the civilians, for his familia, for the Stars, he would shatter the Toxinheart—and the war would find its reckoning.