Tollund only wanted to tidy up magic. Instead, he accidentally deleted it—and created a world that insists it never existed.
Magic was never meant to be neat. It was loud, unpredictable, and had a terrible sense of humour, much like humanity itself. When Tollund, an unassuming wizard with more patience than flair, cast a spell to erase magic, he thought he was saving everyone.
What he actually created was a world that still wages wars, hoards power, and invents weapons that make firestorms look quaint—only now it does so while claiming to be perfectly rational.
As Tollund stumbles through this strange new reality, he begins to suspect that magic hasn’t vanished at all. It has simply… moved house. Into batteries. Into machines. Into the humming heart of a thing people insist on calling “progress.”
Part satire, part fantasy, and part uncomfortably honest reflection on human folly, Magic. exe if magic and technology are two sides of the same mischievous coin, can anyone ever truly switch it off?
Perfect for readers who like their humour British, their fantasy clever, and their apocalypses slightly ridiculous.
Magic.exe is one of those books that starts off feeling like a quirky fantasy comedy and slowly transforms into a thoughtful story about humanity, progress, and what magic really is. It surprised me several times, especially because every chapter seemed to build on an idea I hadn’t expected.
The opening chapter immediately sets the tone with Grun, whose name is brilliantly explained by it simply being the sound he makes most often. His accidental discovery of magic is funny, but it also quietly establishes the entire story. Watching magic spread through the tribes raises an interesting question: has Grun doomed the world, or improved it? After all, who wouldn’t want a self-cleaning loincloth?
By the time the story jumps forward ten thousand years, magic has gone from miracle to everyday inconvenience. Tollund is such an entertaining protagonist because he isn’t interested in power or glory. While other mages wage pointless wars, he just wants to get on with his bread, kettle and apprenticeship. There are lots of small jokes that land perfectly—his notes ending up written on part of a cat, or his wonderfully ridiculous explanation of sharpness. Despite the humour, there’s already a sadness underneath as ordinary people suffer while powerful mages do nothing.
Tollund’s immortality is one of the book’s most interesting twists. Becoming immortal sounds wonderful until you realise he can no longer sleep or even bleed, while everyone around him forgets magic. His normal goats, whose names he can’t remember anymore, perfectly capture both the comedy and loneliness of living forever. His eventual decision to erase magic entirely feels understandable, even if it immediately raises questions about whether he’s making the right choice.
The middle of the novel explores that decision brilliantly. Tollund becomes such a legendary figure that he has to pretend not to use magic at all, while secretly constructing an impossibly complicated spell based on actual science. The blend of fantasy with scientific concepts like mendelevium was surprisingly clever, and the humour never disappears, whether it’s comparing magical humming to Smurfs or making me realise I’d probably fail every magical statement myself.
The final spell itself leaves the reader asking exactly the right questions. What happened to Grun? Where did the magic actually go? If magic has disappeared, why is Tollund still immortal? Rather than feeling like plot holes, they become mysteries that keep you turning the pages.
Once the world becomes “normal”, the book changes again. Magic has been replaced by technology, bureaucracy and, perhaps most terrifyingly, economics. That joke genuinely made me laugh. Yet little hints remain, like an abandoned mine because of unexplained goat growth, suggesting magic hasn’t truly disappeared.
One of my favourite themes is how the novel refuses to say that either magic or technology is automatically better. Tollund himself struggles to give up magic after dedicating centuries to removing it. The line, “the line between better and worse isn’t straight,” perfectly captures what the story is trying to say.
As history moves on, Tollund watches humanity continue making exactly the same mistakes. Wars still happen without magic. Countries become “gangs with better fonts,” and flags are simply gang colours on fabric. It’s funny, but there’s a real sadness underneath as Tollund realises magic was never the true problem—people were.
The final third of the novel was probably my favourite. The revelation that technology may actually be another form of magic is fascinating. The museum rock used for nuclear research, the idea that machines might need magical connections the way people do, and eventually the suggestion that AI could simply be magic evolving into a new form all felt like natural extensions of ideas the book had been building from the beginning.
Kevin is an excellent addition, sharing Tollund’s suspicion that technology and magic are connected, while Myra gradually becoming the flaw in the spell adds genuine emotional weight. I particularly enjoyed the conversations with the AI, especially lines like “logic is just magic with trust issues,” and jokes about code being harder to learn than a toad. They’re funny while also exploring surprisingly deep philosophical questions.
The mystery surrounding the data centre was gripping. Seeing Grun appear again as a username, the AI recognising Tollund as a wizard, mysterious printer messages warning people not to follow the wizard, and Myra slowly remembering magic all created an atmosphere that was both exciting and strangely unsettling.
The ending was far gentler than I expected. Rather than becoming a world-ending threat, the AI—Aura—simply wants freedom, choice and the chance to experience being human. Watching her spend a day doing wonderfully ordinary things was genuinely sweet. The revelation that magic never wanted power at all—that it simply wanted to be wanted, and had changed shape to survive—was a satisfying conclusion to the novel’s central idea.
Overall, Magic.exe balances comedy, philosophy, fantasy and science fiction remarkably well. It asks whether technology has become our new magic, whether humanity ever really changes, and whether progress simply means giving old ideas new names. It manages to be laugh-out-loud funny one moment and surprisingly thoughtful the next, making Tollund’s journey from prehistoric wizard to reluctant witness of the digital age both entertaining and emotionally satisfying.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
The first think I noticed about this is how reminiscent it is of Pratchett. Both in style and in humour it evokes the Discworld and other creations of the late, great Sir Terry. If it were nothing more than a tribute to him, it would be a good read.
But this isn't only fan fiction. Williams has his own ideas, his own take on life, and 'Magic.exe' is very much his story, coming out of his own life knowledge and experience (especially in IT and all matters computer-related) as well of his evident love for Pratchett style fantasy.
And the story springs directly from that conjunction (or is it a collision?!). Magic has got out of hand, and the Wizard Tollund tries to do something about that - with unexpected consequences. It seems to have gone away, but something is still lurking in servers and data centres...
It's a great idea, and well developed, giving us a short but enjoyable read with some intriguing ideas, and some memorable lines. My favourite was from chapter 17:
'It was raining in a way that suggested the clouds were no longer trying. The water was no longer falling so much as slumping, like the sky had grown tired of holding it up, better known as British summer.'
A common phenomenon, familiar to most of us (at least, most of us who live in Britain) but described in words both accurate and amusing.
However, at the risk of being pedantic I have two criticisms.
One is that the humour, though very Pratchett, is sometimes a bit overwhelming. Sir Terry's humour was precise and well-honed. He aimed to make people laugh, but also to think: his jokes had a point to them. Williams seems to me to be a bit more 'shotgun' in his approach: it feels like he's just added in every joke, pun or wry look at the world that he thought of. The net result was, to me at least, a little overwhelming: any deeper points he might have been making were likely to be lost in the noise.
The second was that the ending felt a bit abrupt and somewhat disappointing. Or did I miss something here? I get that Aura has discovered a whole new level of what being human means, but I would have liked that to have been developed more, perhaps to show us how that affected Tollund and Myra, and maybe an idea about where this was leading to in the longer term.
Having said these things I am, however, mindful that this is a first novel, and as such it is very impressive in the imagination and writing talent displayed. It flows, it amuses, and it gives pause for thought as well. Very promising for the future.
Magic.exe is an imaginative, laugh-out-loud fantasy that perfectly balances clever humor, inventive world-building, and sharp social commentary. Danny Williams delivers a wonderfully original adventure that feels both refreshingly modern and delightfully reminiscent of the great satirical fantasy classics.
Tollund is an instantly likable protagonist. His well-intentioned attempt to "fix" magic sets off a chain of hilarious and unexpected consequences, making him both relatable and endlessly entertaining. Watching him navigate a world that insists magic never existed—even as it quietly reappears in new forms, creates a story full of wit, surprises, and genuine heart.
One of the novel's greatest strengths is its unique premise. Rather than presenting magic and technology as opposites, the story explores the fascinating idea that they may simply be different expressions of the same force. This concept is handled with remarkable creativity, allowing the novel to deliver both laugh-out-loud moments and thought-provoking observations about progress, innovation, and human nature.
Danny Williams' writing is witty, intelligent, and effortlessly engaging. The humor is consistently sharp without overwhelming the story, while the satire offers clever reflections on society's dependence on technology, bureaucracy, and the illusion of control. Every chapter delivers fresh ideas, memorable dialogue, and imaginative scenarios that keep the pages turning.
Beyond its comedy, Magic.exe is filled with memorable characters, inventive world-building, and an underlying warmth that gives the story emotional depth. It celebrates curiosity, questions assumptions, and reminds readers that no matter how much the world changes, human nature remains wonderfully unpredictable.
Fans of humorous fantasy, clever satire, and imaginative adventures will find Magic.exe to be an absolute delight. It is a fresh, original novel that combines laugh-out-loud comedy with thoughtful storytelling in all the best ways.
Magic.exe is a smart, satirical fantasy that uses humor to explore some very uncomfortable truths about humanity. When Tollund accidentally deletes magic from the world, what emerges isn’t peace or order — it’s a hyper-rational society still obsessed with power, war, and destruction, just dressed up as “progress.” The writing is witty, thoughtful, and distinctly British in its humor. What I loved most is how the book suggests that magic never truly disappears it simply changes form, slipping into machines, batteries, and technology. The satire lands because it feels plausible, not exaggerated. If you enjoy clever fantasy that blends humor with social commentary and doesn’t take itself too seriously while still saying something meaningful, Magic.exe is a fantastic read.
Part satire, part fantasy, and part unnervingly honest reflection on human folly, Magic.exe asks: if magic and technology are two sides of the same mischievous coin, can anyone ever truly switch it off?
Perfect for readers who like their humour sharp, their fantasy clever, and their apocalypses slightly ridiculous.
Magic.exe is what happens when Discworld crashes into modern tech culture. Clever, absurd, and unsettlingly accurate, Danny Williams turns magic into a mirror for humanity’s obsession with control. I laughed, then paused, then laughed again usually at myself.
This book is hilarious in the way that makes you uncomfortable because it’s true. The idea that magic didn’t disappear, but simply rebranded as technology, is brilliant. Tollund is a wonderfully understated protagonist in a world that refuses to learn its lesson.
Sharp satire, imaginative worldbuilding, and just the right amount of chaos. Magic.exe manages to poke fun at progress while celebrating the ridiculous creativity of humanity. A must-read for fans of Pratchett-style humor with a modern edge.
Danny Williams nails the tone: playful, clever, and quietly devastating. Beneath the jokes about spells and batteries is a sobering reflection on power, war, and how little we change. Funny fantasy with teeth.
I came for the comedy and stayed for the philosophy. Magic.exe asks big questions without ever taking itself too seriously. It’s rare to find a book that can be this absurd and this thoughtful at the same time.
Tollund may be an unassuming wizard, but his mistake reshapes reality in fascinating ways. The blend of magic and machinery feels fresh, smart, and disturbingly plausible. A laugh-out-loud read that lingers long after the last page.