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In fiction writing, character development is the process of building a unique, three-dimensional character with depth, personality, and clear motivations. Character development can also refer to the changes a character undergoes over the course of a story as a result of their actions and experiences.
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[System Response: 'Character Development'; 'Death of a Loved One' Variant]
System Objective: Eliminate a random [Character] that Appears in more than two of the [Player]'s Core Memories to further the Process of the Story
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[Player Novarra Ultra]'s Core Memories, #19: A Game of Chess
"This is a pawn," Alessia explains, holding up a chess piece shaped like an ugly knob.
"I know that, sort of. The horse is a knight, right?" Novarra peers at the ugly horse-shaped piece. Apparently it's hand-carved by Alessia's father, a merchant, so Novarra doesn't want to comment on its crude shape.
It really is ugly, she thinks, more of a snake than a horse.
"And the castle piece is a rook," Alessia adds. "The rook moves only diagonally, the knight moves in a curved shape."
"Huh?"
A variant?
Novarra's seen a couple online chess games before, other than the dramatic depictions of chess in evil-spy-villain movies - but this world's version is probably different, she concludes, as she watches Alessia slide the pieces in a demonstration across the wooden board.
A pawn moves forward.
Novarra follows Alessia's pawn with another pawn, in another row.
"Too hasty," Alessia chides as she plops a rook in its place. "For someone who says such indirect things, you really have a direct mindset."
Says the person who speaks exactly like those brats back home, Novarra internally grumbles as she raises an eyebrow.
"Direct mindset?" she snorts as she casually leans back in the chair beside the mayor's working desk. Propping her feet up in the chair, the semi-formal administrator robes fall apart, revealing a pair of nightclothes underneath - the equivalent of wearing pyjamas to work.
Novarra doesn't even bother dressing professionally these days. Asking Belluse to handle the merchants' disputes - and Novarra stepping in personally to handle people taking notice of Alessia - is good enough.
"When there's something in your way, you crush it. When there's someone who will reveal you if they move forward, you hold them back," Alessia explains simply.
Novarra tries not to stiffen.
Has she-
"Yes, I figured it out - I'll be straightforward for once, and tell you that I don't mind." Alessia waves Novarra off calmly, looking at Novarra's internal struggle to remain stone-faced.
"But, Ingrid," Alessia continues, "I'll give you one piece of advice: the longer you hold onto something, the more you get used to it, the more you'll do to defend it. I hope your goal doesn't eat you up in the end."
A threat? Warning? Possibilities spin in Novarra's head as she transfers her gaze to the chessboard, and slowly looks up into the motherly expression of the mayor.
Alessia seems genuine.
People who genuinely believe in a cause or person are always the most dangerous, though.
Trust, not to trust? Be honest, slip on a mask? Her intentions are exposed, she says she doesn't mind it, but she gave advice, that means she-
Goddamnit, Novarra swears in her head.
Lie, or be direct?
[Notification: Memory Turning Point] (!)
Novarra feels her lips moving before her thoughts reach a conclusion.
"Thanks for the advice."
----
Novarra was halfway through. She was now on ‘anger.’
Why did you leave me, you old hag?
Her stages of grief had flown faster than usual, partially due to the sense of closure - was that the vocabulary used? - she had felt while reading the letter.
It was a nice, short letter. Concise. A few sentences.
Live for yourself. Never concede. I will be watching.
Raising the sword, she hacked at the straw dummies with all her rage. They really were quite good for anger management. The magic yoga had actually helped with her swordsmanship - five years was more than enough for Novarra to reach the level of a decent swordsman. She said she was decent, but of course she was comparing herself to Evan.
Novarra would be enough to beat a few masters, coupled with her ruthless air magic.
Straw fell all over the floor inside the mansion as the dummies were all one-sidedly massacred.
She had purchased a sword when learning the magic yoga stances. Most would be better with a weapon, so Novarra had just bought a bunch of swordsmanship yoga books and more on mana theory. After five years of revising, it could be said that Varra was undoubtedly powerful.
After all, even a normal person after five years of endless studying could come close to a genius. But some said that pure hard work could never touch natural aptitude...
The greedy old woman…
She had naturally been an easily pissed off person. Being pissed off, and being angry enough to do something about it were two different things, but the main point was that Novarra could complain a lot.
She sighed.
A lone straw dummy was left.
Like any normal person would, Novarra imagined the face of a person she disliked on it.
Navven, you bastard.
This was an anger management session - there was no gatekeeping who she was pissed at, Varra supposed.
The physically inept Novarra, after years of stamina training, had slowly become not-so-physically-inept. Thus, she easily finished the lone dummy off with an air blast.
Looking out at the hay scattered over the mansion floor, she flicked her wrist again, putting her focus on the mess. Will flowed through her veins as she commanded the mana inside her to control the air to flow. And the air did, returning the hay back to their original dummy shapes with a ‘whoosh.’
Novarra was about to go another round when Belluse entered the room.
Looking at the sweating Varra, she sighed.
“Your Majesty...your sword exercises have been stretching out all your clothes lately…” Belluse frowned, pulling a handkerchief out of her jacket pocket.
Both of them had discarded their previous lifestyles - Belluse also seemed freer after the five years, as if the weight on her shoulders had disappeared as well. She had previously been Novarra’s assistant, but Belluse had realized her aspirations two years ago and quit to start a successful boutique. Even if she was grateful to Alessia, Novarra owed a lifetime to Belluse, who had left behind a whole life to start a new one in Rook.
She, like most people, didn’t like to get hurt.
But Belluse was the sole person she would risk her life for.
Novarra had apologized to her for bringing up Richard to get her to come, and had been honest that she had just wanted Belluse to not die, but Belluse had just looked up at her and said, simply, I trust you, Your Majesty.
They were close, and their relationship and shifted over the years from superior-and-subordinate to friends. Now, Belluse didn’t attend to Novarra's every whim like she used to, but just did the chores around the house, like a roommate would.
A housekeeping roommate?
Even if Novarra had begged her on multiple occasions to stop calling her by that godforsaken title in private, Belluse had still stubbornly continued.
But she hadn’t pushed the subject. Belluse was Belluse, even if she went by Lucia now, and she was free to do whatever she wanted.
If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.
After five years, any relationship would change.
“Aiii, it’s alright.” Novarra waved her concerns off, looking up at her. Reaching for a jug of water, she took a swig. “Also,” she continued, wiping her mouth, “I was planning to get some cakes later on at Ginna’s together, if you’re free.”
Belluse nodded. “Mmm.”
Just as Novarra was about to sheathe her blade and reply, her vision swirled again for the first time in a long, long time.
A very, very, long time.
“Your Majesty?”
Only Belluse’s slightly panicked voice was heard as Novarra collapsed to her knees.
The black-and-white pixels returned for the first time in five years, along with the kaleidoscopic swirl, as Novarra fell into the familiar, abyss-like darkness of the System’s Space.
Novarra’s vision stabilized just as she snorted.
“Tch. Could you get rid of the rainbows next time? They strain my eyes.” A pause. “What do you need this time? Did you make another mistake you can’t tell me about?”
Novarra noticed the buzzing that came with the System’s presence from all around her.
Was the System silent?
Coward.
“Speak. I know you’re there," she said, annoyed.
She had been as polite as she needed to be for the first few encounters, but after radio silence for five years, she wasn’t in the greatest mood.
{This System apologizes for the lost contact}
“Get to the point...please.”
The ‘please’ was redundant.
{It appears This System has made an unplanned-}
“Error?” Novarra sighed, massaging her temples. “What is it this time? Another Butterfly Effect response that you can’t tell me about? Pray tell, did you accidentally shit your pants this time and change the course of the story again, my brother?”
A pause.
{There are billions, if not an endless amount of worlds this System has to manage. This System apologizes for the inconvenience}
“If someone heard you say this, it’ll sound like I’m picking on you...Just tell me what mistake you made.”
Novarra never had a sibling, but the closest thing she had would be scolding the System. Scolding a robot was the only familial interaction she had left...great.
It was totally not a sign of her going insane.
{It appears...that another cross-player has entered this world}
“Another transmigrator? From which world? Mine?”
THREE GODFORSAKEN TRANSMIGRATORS?
....
{It appears to be the case}
“So another person who knows about REBUILD?”
{That is correct}
“Have you informed Evan? Wait, the transmigrator comes into his body at twenty, right, so you can’t…What’s their name?”
{This System is not authorized to-}
Authorization...
Novarra sighed, waving it off. “Forget I even said anything. Does this transmigrator - no, cross-player - know about my existence?”
{That is correct}
“Ha…”
Those who classified Novarra as a knife would likely have to revise their opinions of her. If she was a knife, she definitely would belong to a sailor. Her tirade of creative, bilingual swearing proved this fact.
The System didn’t say anything.
Was the guilty silence of someone who knew it was their fault?
Novarra was a lazy person, and had lived a relatively physically sheltered life. But unrestricted Internet access at a young age could give way to an...extensive vocabulary.
Questions swarmed in Novarra’s head that she cleanly organized in order of priority. She didn’t want to stay in this unnerving space any longer than she had to.
Rationality wasn’t her favorite suit, she supposed, but one she could pull off well enough.
“Does the cross-player know my name, location, or any other pieces of information that could be used to locate me or interfere with my life here?” she asked, after a while.
After a pause, the System replied. {No}
“Does the cross-player know any solution that could potentially bring them, or me, back to our original world?”
{Not currently}
“And last of all, what authority do I have to gain to access information about the given gift or a way to get out of this world?”
The System hesitated. {This System isn’t sure if this is a piece of information [Player Novarra Ultra] is allowed to access…but since it is unsure, this System shall allow it}
Unsure. Allowed. Authorization. But it's a mechanical program, isn't it? Unless it's an emotional entity, but this System seems different from the original novel's...Sentience? What's different?
A pause.
{To gain access to the lowest level of currently unauthorized information, equivalent to your given gift, [Player Novarra Ultra] will have to gain as much potential as the original protagonist, [Player Evan King]}
“And, what about the way to get out of this world?”
Evan King had never wanted to get out of this world. Permanent escape was enough for him, but there were different types of escapists. Novarra was a temporary one - Rook was peaceful enough for her to be content; but if things got any more complicated, to the point where she would be in danger, Novarra the ever self-preservationist wouldn’t hesitate to exit this world.
Right now, she was alright, but there always had to be a Plan B.
{To gain access to the second level of currently unauthorized information, which applies to a way to get out of this world, [Player Novarra Ultra] will have to make a significant contribution to this world}
“How so?” Novarra frowned. “How large of a contribution does it have to be?”
A long hesitant pause. Compared to the silences earlier, this one was full of tension, like the System was about to deliver an important piece of information.
{Enough to change its future and its past...equivalent to an interfering from a System}
Novarra blinked.
She liked to think that she was very accepting, but the boatload of information she had just learned hit her like one of those luxury yachts that Navven owned.
A Plan B that would be costly, and a Plan A that could go wrong in so many tiny ways…
Novarra knew she was academically smart enough, but strategically? Expanding her plans to the rest of the alphabet would take brainpower and time on a semiperfect cushion under an extremely time-consuming and expensive safety net.
Tactics hurt my brain.
But she didn’t want to press the System just yet for further information.
Even if she treated it like a little sibling, it still was a System capable of managing an almost infinite number of worlds. Novarra didn’t know much about it, which left it to be dangerous.
Hell, I don't even know if it can read minds.
From what she knew, the System couldn’t directly interfere in worlds, but responses like the Butterfly Effect that had happened five years ago?
She still hadn’t figured it out.
Even though she seemed familiar with the robot-like voice, she was only dancing at lines that had already been established... Whether the lines stretched further remained to be seen, but Novarra didn’t want to poke a sleeping bear.
I don't want to die by getting smited - smote? - by an otherworldly being. It would look dumb on my tombstone, among other things.
“Alright, then. One last question.”
Novarra looked into the dark expanse of space. She couldn’t see anything, not even the doorway of light she had entered in her dream to get through this world. That was the abyss.
“Will the unauthorized information classified in the higher levels of authority bring harm to me in any way if not brought to light?”
{As before, this System isn’t sure if this is a piece of information [Player Novarra] is allowed to access…but since it is unsure, this System shall allow it}
Two displays of favoritism. Novarra sure was pushing the limit.
Or maybe it just didn’t want its superiors to figure out its mistake?
A pause. {One piece of information classified in the higher levels may affect you mentally, but should not obstruct [Player Novarra Ultra]’s endgame}
Whether the System was lying or not remained to be seen, but...
“I will now leave the System space,” she said, with her polite voice. Their cooperation had improved her mood, and given her food for thought. “Please pull out the options.”
{Would you like to return to the world
[Yes] [No]
{[Player Novarra Ultra] has chosen option [Yes]}
{The System bids [Player Novarra Kiye Ultra] a nice snack}
They knew what she was doing..?
----
The System watched the player exit the dark space, almost emotionless. The System didn’t have a physical body - but they did have presences. The System had multiple presences in different worlds, to manage them, like billions of arms and legs, but they were all part of the System, the brain. The System of Worlds.
That was what they were called, dedicated to running the billions, trillions - no, infinite - of worlds that existed.
Every time one person developed a story, an idea, or even had the glimpse of another reality, its existence would be brought to the attention of the System, and a presence would be dispatched to regulate it, along with a Space.
The System of Worlds, saw all, and knew all. What happened in these worlds, and what players thought, were all transparent.
It was strange, as most humans usually reflected their emotions on their face.
But no...this human - no, this player - was unpredictable. When she swore as if the world were on fire, her thoughts were calm enough. Cool. Practical.
A unique human.
After a pause, a sound was heard, almost like a bell.
A voice rang out in the abyss-like Space.
Rather than the System’s robotic one, it was smooth like silk. It was neither feminine nor masculine, and had an unidentifiable accent that likely couldn’t be seen anywhere in the world, the System noted. Refreshing, like a cold spring in summer, and intoxicating, like honey.
{Do you think she’ll figure out that Systems don’t make mistakes?} the voice asked, amused. {You’re doing quite a good job of misleading her, World System}
{This System is sure [Player Novarra Ultra] knows}
{Cut the crap. Speak normally}, the voice commanded. The smooth-like voice hardened with authority. It was obvious that they were the System’s superior.
A pause, and the robotic voice echoed, cold and emotionless as ever, albeit more casually.
{She’s a smart cross-player. She may seem volatile, but she’s a rational human. That is my analysis. She knows that the unknown is dangerous, but contrarily has decided to trust my information. I think that there is a reason why you picked her, and chose me to carry your plan out...System of Fate}.
Obeying superiors.
The Fate System laughed. {Try as they might, humans can never escape their fate. I am different from the System of Destiny, am I not? Destiny can be changed, since destiny is just a path to a certain future, but Fate...is unavoidable. I am unavoidable.}
The World System remained silent to their superior’s egoist comparison. They were used to it.
{Oh, well}, the System of Fate shrugged, {I have to say, congratulations. You handle Intersections and cross-players well. Of course, you’ve done this before, but, I have to say, keeping three unpredictable cross-players in check? And following their Fates? I should boost you another Authority Tier}. A giggle. {Think of it as a promotion, of sorts}
A long pause.
{Thank you... for the promotion}
There was no raising in tone or emotion, but there was a sarcastic feel to it.
The System of Fate snorted. {Are you getting cheeky with me after five millennia since your last Authority Tier boost?}
{No...}
Another pause.
{Has it been five millenia?} the World System wondered, somewhat innocently.
A laugh.
{Of my subordinates, you really are the most interesting}, the Fate System remarked. {You call the players by their names. A rarity. Well, it only adds to your unpredictability and shine, does it not?}
The World System didn’t reply. Another rarity.
The voice continued to muse, {That player just now...I haven’t seen a human with the fate of a Queen in a long, long, time.} Another laugh. {A Thief-Hero, a Queen, and a Creator. What an unsettling trio}
Before the World System could respond, the Fate System continued.
{I really am looking forward to seeing how they meet their fates.}
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