Cortana woke me up on time, just like yesterday. I got ready for school and headed out after forcing down breakfast, even though I really didn't want to eat it.
The food here was terrible. It looked unappetizing, the texture felt off, and it was completely bland. I was already starting to feel miserable.
School wasn't any better. There was no real point in being there when I'd be leaving for Hogwarts in two years, but it wasn't like I had a choice in the matter.
Once classes were over, I returned to the orphanage with the other kids and quickly got through my cleaning duties. I barely got supervised anymore, thanks to my reputation, which I was more than happy about.
After finishing up, I glanced at one of the kids still wiping down a table.
"I'll be heading to my room, Danny."
"Okay," he replied without even looking at me.
I made my way upstairs, entered my room, and locked the door behind me. The last thing I needed was someone walking in while I was practicing magic.
Pulling the chair closer, I sat down and focused inward, asking Cortana if it had measured my stats and prepared something to track my progress.
[Would the host like to view their status panel?]
"Yes."
[Host: William Cross (Wizard) | Age: 09
Status: Normal | Physique: 1 | Spirit: 1
Magic: Unable to quantify. No detectable energy reservoir.]
That… was simple, but useful.
"Alright, Cortana. Help me with visualization today and record everything."
[Understood.]
I cleared my mind, pushing aside all distractions and focusing purely on intent. This time, instead of blindly attempting it, I let Cortana guide the process—refining the structure, stabilizing the image in my mind.
Soon enough, I felt the difference.
The objects responded more smoothly.
One… two… three… four.
All of them lifted without the initial struggle from yesterday.
That was already a huge improvement.
Without dropping them, I decided to push further and held the spell, maintaining my focus for as long as possible.
The pressure came eventually, but slower this time.
I managed to hold it for over a minute before losing control and letting everything fall.
Taking a steady breath, I straightened slightly before asking for an update.
"Any new observations, Cortana?"
[Yes.]
[Performance improvement detected.]
[Current test: 4 objects levitated for 73 seconds.]
[Previous record: 34 seconds.]
[Conclusion: Significant increase in control and stability.]
[Observation: No detectable energy flow within host during spell execution.]
[Hypothesis 1: Energy exists but is not externally measurable. Requires host perception.]
[Hypothesis 2: Magic is non-energetic in nature.]
[Working Theory: Spellcasting relies on intent, will, imagination, and emotional alignment to influence reality.]
I exhaled slowly, letting that sink in.
So either I couldn't perceive the energy… or it didn't exist in the way I expected.
Either way, the result was the same.
Control mattered more than anything else.
After a moment, I gathered myself and told Cortana to continue assisting me with improving my telekinesis.
Then I got back to practice.
[ Time-Skip ]
I was in my room as usual, practicing my control over magic. Over the past six months, I'd gotten considerably better at manipulating objects.
With Cortana's assistance in visualizing the spell, I could now maintain a levitating object for over five minutes straight. Without its help, I could still manage a little over two minutes, which was a huge improvement compared to before.
My control over multiple objects had also improved, but I started noticing something odd. While performing these feats had become easier, maintaining them for longer periods was getting harder. It wasn't as simple as just improving linearly, and there seemed to be a limit I kept running into.
I'd also been experimenting a bit.
Trying to replicate the Force Choke from Force Choke, since both it and my telekinesis seemed to work on similar principles. The results were… decent. I could use it on the doll without much issue, and I'd even managed to bend spoons and forks.
Had to stop that, though.
Too many bent utensils would definitely raise questions.
Hogwarts should start around September or October—I wasn't entirely sure, but I'd be turning ten next month, on July 4th. Which meant I still had around fifteen months left in this place.
Fifteen months.
I let out a quiet sigh.
You're an adult in a child's body. You're not the one suffering the most here.
It was the normal kids who had it worse.
That thought usually helped… a little.
Suppressing the distraction with occlumency, I shifted my focus back to practice and looked at the bedside table.
Slowly, carefully, I tried to lift it.
A small smile formed on my face as it rose slightly above the ground. That was enough. I didn't want to risk damaging it if I lost control.
I maintained the levitation for about a minute before guiding it back down, making sure it landed quietly without any damage.
Taking a deep breath, I called out to Cortana and tasked it with creating simulated memory clips of the table floating.
[Processing request…]
This was another function I'd discovered over time. Cortana could generate simulated memories or scenarios based on my existing experiences. It took time, but the results were worth it.
Another important realization was that visualization itself had been getting easier the more data I fed into it.
Since the AI was somehow integrated into my soul, it could replicate the same visualization multiple times simultaneously, almost like parallel processing.
Which meant I didn't have to focus on everything at once.
I could focus purely on intent, while Cortana handled the visualization.
That didn't mean I planned to rely on it completely. If anything, using it this way was helping me build something like muscle memory. Through repeated practice, the images became sharper, more instinctive.
At this point, when I tried to levitate something simple like a glass or a pillow, the image formed in my mind almost instantly, and it was clear, stable, and familiar.
And that made all the difference.
(Scene Break)
After wrapping up my daily practice, I headed downstairs for dinner. As usual, the atmosphere was quiet. No one spoke openly at the table, and those who did kept their voices low, almost like whispers.
I finished quickly, washed my plate and spoon, and went back to my room without lingering.
Lying down on my bed, I stared at the ceiling, watching the old fan creak as it spun slowly. The repetitive sound made it easy to drift into thought.
After a moment, I called out to Cortana and asked it to display my stats.
[Host: William Cross (Wizard) | Age: 09
Status: Malnourished | Physique: 1.1 | Spirit: 1.8]
[Update: "Magic" removed from status panel.]
[Reason: Current evidence suggests magic does not function as a quantifiable resource.]
[Observation: Behavior aligns with skill-based or capacity-based usage rather than depletion.]
I stared at the panel for a second before narrowing my eyes slightly.
So the earlier theory still holds some weight.
I asked if this confirmed that magic was something drawn from the soul rather than a finite energy source.
[Conclusion: Tentatively affirmed.]
[Magic appears dependent on intent, visualization, imagination, will, and emotional alignment.]
[Repeated strain results in cognitive fatigue rather than resource depletion.]
[Cross-reference: Host memory—Harry Potter film series.]
[Observation: Spell failure is not associated with energy exhaustion.]
[Primary causes: Lack of control, focus, or sufficient mental capacity.]
[Parallel noted: Host exhibits similar limitations.]
[Inference: Current constraint linked to insufficient "soul strength" or cognitive capacity.]
[Result: Magic classification updated—non-quantifiable, growth-based system.]
That matched everything I'd experienced so far.
There was no feeling of energy being drained, no sense of an empty reserve. Just strain—like pushing a muscle past its limit. The more I forced it, the more resistance I felt, until it eventually gave out.
Which meant…
Growth wasn't about spamming the same spell over and over, trying to exhaust some imaginary reserve and waiting for it to come back stronger. It was about expanding what I could actually do, letting time and practice build that capacity naturally.
I let out a slow breath, my thoughts settling as the pieces came together.
So the theory wasn't wrong.
With that in mind, and exhaustion finally catching up to me, I closed my eyes and let myself drift off to sleep.
- To Be Continued -