Futika

Futika

Appearance

Futika's true form is apocalyptic and ritualistic. She is cloaked in flowing black and orange robes inscribed with burning runes, her hood casting shadow over a mask of jagged firelight that hides her face. From her hands spill streams of molten brilliance, splitting the ground like fault lines. Her hair is hidden beneath the hood, but flames rise behind her like plumes of ash. Each step cracks the earth beneath her feet, rivers of magma flowing in her wake. Fragments of shattered worlds orbit faintly around her, glowing with embers of collapse.

Personality

Once idealistic, Futika is now bitter, brash, and mocking. She despises authority and titles, scorning the 'degrees' and 'qualifications' that once silenced her. Loud and theatrical, she delights in ruin as proof of her genius. To her, disaster is not cruelty but demonstration — the undeniable truth that knowledge ignored will return as knowledge weaponized. She thrives in chaos and treats calamity as her stage, her laughter echoing like breaking stone.

History

Mortal Life

Futika was brilliant from the start. Her mind raced with theories, inventions, and ideas that could change the world. She filled notebooks with sketches of machines, formulas for energy, cures for diseases no one else was considering. Her passion was not for fame or wealth but for progress — to make life better for humanity.

But she was not born into privilege. She had no degree, no title, no mentor to guide her. When she presented her ideas, professors dismissed her. Scholars laughed. 'You are clever, yes,' they told her, 'but you are not qualified. Leave invention to those who have earned it.'

Still, she persisted. She applied for patents, offered her designs, argued for her formulas. Every time, the answer was the same: rejection. Her inventions were either stolen, ignored, or ridiculed. The very people she sought to help branded her a fraud. Her brilliance, instead of opening doors, crushed her beneath their weight.

The Descent into Darkness

Years of rejection turned her hope into fury. If humanity would not listen to her ideas for progress, they would listen to her through fear.

She turned her notebooks from cures into weapons, from machines of aid into devices of destruction. She built bombs from scraps, machines that melted steel, powders that poisoned crops. Her inventions, once ignored, now brought governments and cities to their knees.

At first, she told herself it was only to be heard, to prove she was not worthless. But soon, the destruction became its own language. Explosions were her applause, ruins her stage. The brilliance no one wanted was finally undeniable, carved into the earth in ash and fire.

Humanity had refused her as savior — so she would return as destroyer.

Rebirth as a God

When her mortal life ended in fire and collapse, Kirata did not see failure, but inevitability. Futika awoke in the void cloaked in black and orange robes, her face hidden behind a mask of jagged firelight. From her hands spilled streams of molten brilliance, splitting the void like fault lines. Her voice no longer pleaded to be heard — it thundered like collapsing mountains.

Where she once begged for recognition, she now commanded obedience through ruin. Her very steps cracked the ground beneath her, rivers of magma spilling in her wake. Her robe was etched with burning runes, each one a formula of destruction made divine. She carried herself like a prophet of collapse, a scientist turned priestess of annihilation.

She wandered through the void, leaving behind trails of shattered fragments and burning stars, until she reached Kirata's throne. There she claimed the third seat to the right.

Role and Current State

As the Tenth Moon, Futika embodies catastrophe. Volcanoes, earthquakes, floods, collapsing stars — every disaster that rends creation is her domain. Her knowledge, once meant to build, now tears down without restraint.

She can only be glimpsed in the Abyss during October, when disasters ripple across mortal worlds, when skies burn red and earth quakes underfoot. To see her is to witness brilliance turned to ruin, a scientist's dream made divine — knowledge without compassion, progress without mercy.

Synopsis

The Tenth Moon of the Abyss, Futika is the goddess of catastrophe — a failed scientist whose rejected genius was reborn as divine disaster. Once ignored for her lack of status, she now makes the earth quake and the stars collapse, her every act a sermon of ruin.

Trivia

Futika's mortal journals manifest in godhood as runes of destruction, etched into her robes and glowing with fire.

She despises mortals who boast of degrees or authority, seeing them as the chains that silenced her in life.

Her laughter echoes like falling stone and breaking glass, unsettling even the other Moons.

She is the only Moon who embraces destruction purely for its own sake, without disguise or justification.

Though she mocks Inaroth openly, she secretly fears her, for even catastrophe cannot outlast time.