Halo: Magicka

And that would be Dad coming through the door. I sighed as I turned to look at the door.

My father was a relatively tall man, standing at 6'2" with dark hair, brown eyes, and a beard. His broad frame filled the doorway as he entered, his worn work boots clacking on the floor as he stepped inside, a quiet but solid presence in the room. He was always a bit quieter after a long day at work, but you could tell when he was in a good mood—he'd smile, his eyes lighting up, even after the hardest of days.

"Hey, Dad. How was work?" I asked, trying to keep the tone light.

Dad let out a deep sigh as he dropped his bag by the door. "Long day, but nothing I couldn't handle." He glanced over at me, his tired eyes softening just a bit. "You?"

I shrugged, trying to appear as casual as possible. "Same old, you know. Just hanging out with J and the guys."

Dad nodded and moved toward the kitchen, his heavy footsteps quieting as he reached the counter to get a drink. "I suppose that's good," he said, voice a little muffled by the glass, "Don't forget, you've still got that martial arts class tomorrow with Ethan and Jameson."

"Yeah, I won't forget," I responded, though part of me just wanted to focus on the magic and what was coming next. But I didn't let that show. I'd been good about balancing everything up until now.

Mum's soft voice broke the silence.

"How about you, darling?" she asked Dad, her concern still there despite her calm demeanour, "Anything happen at work?"

Dad took a moment before responding, leaning against the kitchen counter. "Nothing too exciting. Same old, just dealing with the usual office stuff. You know how it is."

I nodded, feeling a familiar weight of responsibility pressing down on me. He was trying to keep things light, but I knew how much he carried from his work every day. The stress, the long hours. And yet, here he was, trying to make it look easy.

I stood up, deciding to help out. "I'll set the table for dinner," I said, hoping to shift the mood a bit.

Dad glanced up at me, offering a tired but appreciative smile. "Thanks, Eli."

"Anytime," I said, grabbing the plates from the cupboard. As I worked, I felt a small sense of peace settle over me. Even with everything I had to prepare for, something was grounding about these small moments, about being with family. It made me feel like there was still some semblance of normalcy in this crazy, unpredictable universe.

I just hoped it would last long enough.

"Are you excited to start school next month, Eli?" Dad asked with a glint in his eyes.

I blinked, a little caught off guard, "Uh, sure. I mean, it's not like I have a choice, right?" I chuckled nervously, trying to keep the conversation light.

Dad laughed, ruffling my hair. "You're growing up so fast. Just make sure you stay out of trouble, okay?"

"Always, Dad," I replied, though the weight of my secret responsibilities felt heavy on my shoulders. There were things I couldn't talk about—things that no one could understand. Magic, the war that loomed over us, the strange sense of purpose I felt... it all felt so distant from the normal life everyone else lived.

"Attaboy, that's my little genius," He smiled. And honestly, he wasn't wrong. I had spoken full sentences by the time I was six months old—though no one would ever know the real reason why.

I leaned back on the couch, my gaze flickering back to the window. There was a moment of peace, but it was fleeting. The truth was, my life was no longer just about school or hanging out with friends. It was about survival.

....

Later that evening, as the golden light of sunset washed over the garden, I grabbed my hoodie and slipped on my sneakers.

"Dad, I'm just going to be working out in the garden. It's nice and sunny," I said softly, pausing by the couch where my baby brother lay sleeping. His tiny chest rose and fell in a peaceful rhythm, and I gently brushed a strand of hair from his forehead before stepping outside.

The cool evening breeze greeted me as I stepped into the open space, the smell of fresh grass filling the air.

Over the past five years, I'd made steady progress with my magic. Reaching the Apprentice Rank wasn't easy, but I was proud of where I stood now.

Magicka was unlike the rigid power systems I'd seen in anime or other fantasy stories. No circuits, no pre-built pathways—it was raw, fluid energy, resting in a core deep within every living being. A spark. A flame. Something primal and boundless.

When I used [Minor Detect Life], I could see those cores—a faint glow in the shape of every living thing around me. Most were barely specks of light, flickering dimly. Except for mine. Mine was... vast, blazing like a small sun beneath my skin.

The only other person I'd seen with even a fraction of that potential was my little brother. His core was about 1/1000th the size of mine when I was born. In everyone else, it was smaller than a grain of sand.

See, spellcasting came down to three factors: Intention, Image and Belief. You had to know exactly what you wanted to happen, had to see it clearly in your mind, and most importantly, you had to believe it would happen—absolutely, unwaveringly, without a shadow of a doubt.

For me, belief was the easiest part. After everything I'd been through—waking up in a new world, growing up in a place teetering on the edge of destruction—how could I not accept it?

And after practising time and time again, your core would expand to adapt to having a greater amount of Magicka. These are where the different points of mastery come in. Even with a core approximately the radius of a pinky finger, it was not enough.

I closed my eyes, breathing deeply as I focused on the energy within me. My core thrummed, warm and vibrant, ready to answer my call.

"Let's get to work."

And with that, the golden light of the setting sun was joined by the faint, shimmering glow of magic.

Rolling my shoulders, I let out a slow breath, "Right… time to get to work."

I wasn't going to practice flashy magic—not here. Too risky. Instead, today was about something simple but effective: conditioning. Strength, endurance, and durability.

[Hindering Touch]

I closed my eyes, focusing on my Magicka core, feeling its steady pulse deep inside me. Slowly, I muttered the incantation and tapped my forehead, an invisible weight settling onto my shoulders.

My knees bent slightly, my muscles tensed, and I gritted my teeth as I adjusted to the pressure. It felt like wearing an extra hundred pounds(45 kg)—subtle but relentless.

"Good… now let's make it count."

Dropping down, I began a set of push-ups. Each movement was deliberate, each push a battle against the weight pressing down on me. My arms trembled, and my breath came in sharp huffs, but I kept going.

One… two… three… keep pushing… ten… fifteen… twenty…

When I couldn't do another rep, I collapsed onto the grass, gasping. My body burned, but there was a faint smile on my face.

"Again," I muttered.

I shifted to squats next, then planks, each movement precise and intentional. The weight of the burden being distributed across my entire body forced me to engage every muscle, pushing my body beyond its natural limits.

After what felt like an hour, I dismissed Hindering Touch and collapsed onto the cool grass, chest heaving. But I wasn't done yet.

"Stoneflesh," I whispered.

A faint shimmer washed over my skin, and for a brief moment, it felt like my whole body was coated in invisible armour. My muscles felt denser, sturdier, and the fatigue in my limbs dulled slightly.

Grinning, I walked over to an old tree stump in the corner of the garden. Raising my fist, I slammed it down against the wood with all my strength.

Thud!

The stump splintered under the blow, and a dull ache ran through my knuckles, but nothing serious. I shook my hand out and nodded.

"Good. Still holding up."

Stoneflesh faded after a few minutes, and the weight of exhaustion came crashing back. My body was screaming at me to stop, but I couldn't help but feel… satisfied.

The sky had turned a dusky purple by the time I finally allowed myself to lie down on the grass. My shirt was clinging to my back, sweat plastered my hair to my forehead, and every muscle in my body ached.

But I felt stronger.

I closed my eyes, letting the evening breeze wash over me. Moments like these reminded me why I was doing this. If I wanted to protect my family, if I wanted to survive what was coming, I couldn't rely on magic alone—I had to be physically strong too.

From the house, Mum's voice carried across the yard. "Eli! Dinner's ready!"

"Coming!" I called back, 'I'm so glad I have huge Magicka reserves...'

[Fast Healing]

[Minor Respite x3]

Stumbling to my feet, I walked back to the house feeling a faint hum of Magicka still lingering in my core—a soft, steady pulse.

I was getting stronger. Little by little, day by day. And when the time came, I'd be ready. Hopefully, even my little brother would be ready.