Transmigrated as My Support Mage Avatar-Chapter 65: Ch: The Girl I Buried

Meanwhile... three nights before Sarios awakened.

The moonlight filtered softly through the misty forest path, casting long silver shadows over the quiet trail. The horses trotted steadily, their hooves muffled by fallen leaves. Inside the carriage, Dila sat upright, her head resting gently against the window, eyes half-lidded from exhaustion. Beside her, Fran curled like a kitten, breathing slowly with her arms still wrapped tightly around Dila’s waist.

Outside, the masked man held the reins in one hand as he guided the horses through the dark woods. His other hand suddenly twitched as a faint vibration pulsed from the pouch tied to his belt. The leather glowed a cold blue.

He pulled the small arcane mirror from his pouch. Its surface shimmered like liquid moonlight. With a single swipe of his thumb, the mirror opened, revealing a wavering image of a large stone chamber—the throne hall of Eldor.

Seated upon a black-stone throne was King Albedo. His long white robe was lined in gold, but his once-regal presence looked weighed, still older than his years. The moment he saw the masked man’s face, he leaned forward with urgency.

"How was it? Did you... did you succeed? Is she there?" His voice cracked—desperate, trembling.

The masked man nodded, a faint smile beneath his hood.

"Yes... she’s with me. She’s safe. We’re on the move. She’ll be home soon, Your Majesty."

Albedo went silent for a moment.

Then—

"Ahh... my baby girl is going home now I’m soo happy..."

His voice broke.

He turned away from the mirror’s frame, slamming his hand on the massive stone slab beside his throne. A loud crack echoed through the screen.

Tears welled in his eyes—not from weakness, but the ache of long-suppressed pain.

"It’s been so long," he whispered, his voice shaking.

"I thought... I thought she died out there last time when you didn’t check her for 2 days when you infiltrated the Exonory castle. I’ve dreamed of this moment for years."

The masked man stayed silent, letting the king’s words fall into the night air.

Back inside the carriage, unaware of the call, Dila twitched in her sleep, brows furrowed—her hand tightening ever so slightly around Fran’s. Her magic was sealed, her path uncertain, but something about the way she held Fran suggested one thing.

She wasn’t giving up.

No matter where this carriage was going.

And no matter what awaited her in Eldor.

Meanwhile...

A heavy silence filled the air.

Dila’s breath caught as she opened her eyes—but saw only darkness.

It wasn’t night. It wasn’t a room. It was a void.

A vast, soundless black stretching endlessly in all directions. And she...

She was floating.

"Wh... where am I...?" she whispered, her voice echoing faintly as if the darkness was made of glass. Her feet had no ground. Her body had no weight. She hovered in the middle of nothingness—adrift, lost.

She reached for her shoulders, gently carassing herself with both arms, instinctively trying to protect what little warmth she had left.

"So cold..." she muttered, shivering.

Her white dress fluttered slightly despite no wind.

Her long silver-white hair drifted around her like strands of moonlight.

All was quiet.

Then—

A faint whisper. Far... distant... layered.

So soft it was like memory.

"...Dila..."

Her eyes widened.

She spun around, slowly, but there was nothing.

Just more of the same empty black.

"Who’s there?"

Her voice cracked.

No answer.

But something shimmered faintly far ahead. A tiny flicker—like a candle in the abyss. It pulsed once... then again... each time a little brighter.

Dila floated closer, as if being pulled without will. The moment her hand reached toward it—

■••••

Nari’s voice echoed faintly, delicate as always:

☆ ...connection incomplete... dream link anomaly detected... searching memory origin... ☆

Dila blinked, looking around.

"Nari?"

But the voice faded.

Suddenly, the darkness below her rippled like disturbed water.

The ink twisted, parted—and from beneath, a vague silhouette emerged.

It was... a girl.

Chained.

Bound tightly by thick, spectral vines that slithered and glowed with a faint ancient script.

The chains pulsed as if alive. The girl’s body hung low, hair tangled over her face.

But her eyes glowed blue—softly, eerily. Familiar.

Dila’s breath caught.

She drifted lower. Her feet still didn’t touch anything. But she floated close enough to see the girl’s face.

It was her.

A mirror image. Wounded. Bound. Forgotten.

"No way..." Dila whispered.

The chained Dila slowly looked up, her voice trembling, hollow.

"If only you... accepted me..."

"...we could’ve become one..."

Her voice cracked. "Then your memories... would’ve returned."

Tears fell down the chained version’s cheeks.

Not violent tears.

Grief.

Real grief.

Dila reached a hand out, hesitating— "My... avatar? Me...?"

The chained Dila didn’t respond that much. But Her wrists twitched against the bonds, rattling.

"I am what you sealed away... to forget... to survive."

Dila’s brows furrowed. "Forget what...?"

The chained Dila didn’t answer.

She just cried.

"You left me here... in the dark," she whispered.

"And now... the world calls you. But you were only ever half."

Dila flinched.

Half?

The floating version of her—this Dila—was incomplete?

The bound Dila looked up again.

"Please... take me back. Accept me. Rejoin. Remember who we are."

Dila’s lips trembled as she slowly reached out with both hands.

Her fingers were just about to brush the chained version’s—

■••••

☆ System anomaly... link unstable... personality sync incomplete... dream depth critical... ☆

A sudden pulse of magic shook the space.

The darkness cracked.

Dila screamed— "WAIT—!"

But the chains yanked the other Dila backward into the abyss.

And Dila was left alone again.

Floating.

Breathing.

Tears in her eyes as she clutched the air where the other version of herself had been.

Still asleep.

Still drifting.

Still lost.

The void was still. Silent.

Dila floated, unmoving—until her fingers slowly clenched into a fist...

Clenched tightly to her chest.

"I... don’t understand..."

Her voice echoed softly, lost in the endless dark.

"I’m not even from this world. I’m just a gamer... right?"

She bit her lip. Her breath trembled.

"There’s no such thing as another me. That chained version... it can’t be real. I created this avatar. This character."

Her voice cracked.

She stared at her hands, her trembling fingers.

"Dila... was just my second switch. My way to escape. A life to roleplay in. That’s all it was supposed to be."

She looked around the darkness. Nothing moved.

No answers. No whispers. No Nari.

Just the void.

Just her thoughts.

"So why..." she whispered, tears threatening to form again, "why does it feel like this world... isn’t pretending anymore?"

The air grew colder. Her breath fogged out faintly.

"Like the script is changing without me... or maybe—"

She swallowed.

"Maybe it was never mine to play and begin with."

Her chest tightened.

She wanted to scream, but not a single sound came out.

No response from the system.

No logic.

No guide.

Just silence.

And for the first time, she felt it.

Truly alone.

Floating between two worlds—unsure which one she really belonged to anymore.

Then suddenly, another presence appeared.

Floating... just a few meters ahead.

It was her.

Another Dila.

Identical silver-white hair drifting in the dark like mist.

But her back was turned, shoulders stiff.

Chains shimmered faintly around her ankles, floating like ghostly roots below her.

Then—

A voice, low and distant.

"You overstayed in this world."

The voice echoed as if whispered from the edges of existence.

"You overtook my body."

It didn’t even turn to face her.

"It was never yours to begin with."

Dila’s heart jumped. Her breath hitched.

"No... Now!!. You’re blaming me?!" she shouted, grabbing her head with both hands.

"This is insane!"

Her voice cracked, the dream space distorting around her like rippling oil.

"I didn’t ask for this—I didn’t choose to be transmigrated!"

The other Dila remained still... and silent.

For a terrifying moment.

Then—

Crrrk.

A crackling sound echoed.

The chained Dila’s head began to turn sideways—not fully, not gently, but unnaturally slow. The neck bent too far. Too stiff.

And as her face came into view, Dila’s breath caught.

Her own face.

But wrong.

Eyes glowing a demonic red.

Lips curled into an impossible grin.

And worse—her teeth glowed, bright white like the glint of blades in bloodlight.

The grin widened.

Too wide.

"You shouldn’t have accepted the distorted ripple that opened the gate."

She didn’t say it with words.

She thought it—directly into Dila’s mind.

Dila gasped, stumbling back. Her feet hit nothing, her body falling through the dark.

"GET OUT OF MY HEAD!"

She screamed—

But the other Dila only smiled...

Still watching her fall...

Into the unknown.

The space around her seemed to darken further, pressing in like a cold breath over her skin.

The chained Dila—no, the distorted Dila—began to laugh.

Not loud.

Not wild.

But broken.

A warped, echoing sound, like glass cracking inside a well.

"Hahaha... look at you now..."

Her voice twisted, overlapping with itself like multiple layers of mocking.

"Hopeless... small... nothing."

She grinned, baring those glowing white teeth again.

"We’re alone here, Dila. Me and you."

Her eyes flared brighter—

Like twin blood moons sinking into the void.

Dila trembled, clutching herself again, fists to her chest.

She shut her eyes tightly.

The cold air wrapped around her like frost.

"I don’t like this dream of mine," she whispered.

Soft.

Fragile.

Like a candle nearly out.

The distorted Dila paused...

Then smiled—wider.

"Ohh~?" she hummed.

Head tilting sideways again, neck popping unnaturally.

She leaned forward, eyes narrowing.

Voice gentle and cruel all at once:

"But I do."

The void trembled.

Chains rattled faintly in the dark.

And the dream would not end.

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