Fune

Fune

Appearance

Fune's divine form radiates grace and menace in equal measure. Her armor gleams like sapphire steel, traced with living streams of blue light that shift and ripple as though water itself runs through her veins. Her eyes burn an impossible ocean-blue, piercing and cold as judgment. Around her hands coil orbs of liquid energy, shifting fluidly between calm streams and crushing waves. Her hair flows like dark water under moonlight, carrying the sheen of liquid radiance with every motion. Where she stands, the ground ripples like the surface of a lake, as though reality itself bends to her tide.

Personality

Calm, poised, and calculating, Fune embodies the adaptability of water. She does not waste words — her voice, like her power, flows with intent. Once an idealist, she now trusts neither law nor mercy, believing only in balance achieved through inevitable judgment. She adapts to every challenge, bending and reshaping herself as needed, yet beneath her grace lies unyielding conviction. To her, justice is not written in law or decrees but in outcomes — fairness achieved by any means. She can be kind as rain, but also merciless as flood, her compassion and wrath flowing from the same source.

History

Mortal Life

Fune was brilliant from the very beginning. She attended the same school as Natabut, excelling in every subject, never once letting her grades slip. Where others faltered, she thrived — calm, meticulous, unshakable in her drive. Her ambition carried her into law school, where she found her calling: to defend the innocent and ensure that fairness was upheld.

For years she carried this banner proudly. She stood in courtrooms, arguing for those who could not defend themselves. She believed in the law, in justice, in the idea that truth could overcome cruelty.

But then came the case that changed everything. She saw Natabut judged guilty of crimes she knew were not his own. She watched the system brand a man as criminal when he had in fact been protector. The realization struck her like a blade: the law was not justice. The law was a game of power, twisted by circumstance, corrupted by the same chaos it claimed to contain.

The Descent into Darkness

That revelation cracked something inside her. She began to lose cases — not for lack of skill, but because she saw the futility in them. The scales were never balanced, no matter how passionately she argued. Time and again, criminals walked free while innocents bore the weight of judgment.

Her faith died. In its place grew something colder. If law could not be trusted, she would enforce justice herself. Quietly, she slipped from the courtroom into the shadows. What the law excused, she hunted. What it failed to punish, she ended.

Her descent was not loud but silent, like water filling the cracks in stone. She became an assassin, a hidden blade in the night, flowing from case to case not as lawyer, but as executioner. She told herself she had not betrayed her ideals — she had adapted. Like water, she took the shape of what was needed.

Rebirth as a God

When death finally came for her, it was not in a courtroom nor in an alley, but in betrayal — struck down by those who once trusted her, afraid of what she had become. Her body failed, but her conviction flowed onward.

Kirata did not see failure. He saw water — adaptable, relentless, inevitable. He remade her in the void, her form flowing with liquid radiance. Her armor gleamed like a tide of steel and sapphire, etched with patterns that shimmered as though alive. Her eyes glowed an impossible blue, brighter than any ocean, piercing as judgment itself. Streams of liquid light coiled around her hands, shaping spheres of power that shifted from gentle ripple to crushing wave with a thought.

Unlike others twisted into monstrous forms, Fune's rebirth was graceful — water given purpose, calm yet unstoppable. She did not rage; she flowed. She did not shout; she drowned silence in inevitability.

She wandered the endless void, her every step leaving ripples that never faded, until at last she reached the throne of Kirata.

There, she found three already seated in the circle of twelve. Her place was the fourth seat to the right of the throne.

Role and Current State

As the Ninth Moon, Fune embodies liquid in all its forms — sustaining, adaptive, and destructive. She is rivers that nourish, floods that drown, blood that sustains life, and storms that sweep it away. Her dominion is balance through flow: where law breaks, she adapts; where order falters, she fills the gaps.

She can only be glimpsed in the Abyss during September, where tides of black water surge in eternal currents. To see her is to see justice not as written law, but as flood and flow — inevitable, consuming, and impossible to restrain.

Synopsis

The Ninth Moon of the Abyss, Fune is the goddess of liquid, whose flowing power adapts to all forms. Once a lawyer turned assassin, she now embodies justice through inevitability, balancing between sustenance and destruction.

Trivia

Fune once attended the same school as Natabut, where she excelled with flawless grades before pursuing law.

She personally witnessed Natabut's trial, which convinced her that the law was irreparably flawed.

Her descent into assassination was quiet, like water filling cracks in stone — unnoticed until it consumed her completely.

She is the only Moon whose mortal life crossed directly with the brothers, though they never knew of her.

Fune's powers shift between nurturing and annihilating — she can heal like a stream or kill like a tide.