Transmigrated as My Support Mage Avatar

Dila's footsteps carried softly through the endless corridor.... creak... creak... fleep.... Her breath trembled with each step as she peered around the corner, whispering, "Hello...? Is anyone there...?"

Her voice echoed faintly, swallowed by the darkness that stretched far beyond the weak light of her phone. The glow barely reached the walls, just enough to show dust swirling in the air and the faint outlines of old picture frames but blurred—most of them crooked, their glass shattered long ago.

Then.... something moved.

From the far end of the corridor, a shadow slipped across the wall—a shape, low and fluid. Before Dila could react, something cat-like jumped out of the dark, its eyes flashing faintly for a split second before vanishing completely.... as if it had never existed.

"Eeekkh!" Dila squeaked, stumbling a step back. Her eyes widened, her pulse thundering in her chest. "Wh-what was that!?" she gasped, clutching the phone tighter, her fingers trembling so much the glow wobbled across the floor.

Her heart pounded harder.... thump... thump... thump....

She slowly turned her head from side to side, scanning the shadows, but there was nothing.... only silence. "Why.... why this phone doesn't even have a flashlight?" she muttered through shaking lips, trying to sound annoyed but it came out scared. "It's still dark.... only this stupid white screen..." she sighed nervously, forcing a weak laugh that faded almost instantly.

The corridor groaned again under her bare feet, every step stirring the smell of old dust and damp wood. The air grew colder.... heavier.... as if the house itself was breathing with her. She rubbed her arm again, the phone trembling in her grasp, and whispered softly, "Please just let this dream end i can't bare to experience this...."

And still.... she kept walking. Each creak beneath her feet sounded louder than before, echoing into the endless dark ahead.

Dila kept walking, her bare feet brushing against the wooden floor.... creak... fleep... creak.... The same sound followed her like an echo she couldn't escape. She tightened her grip on the glowing phone, lifting it slightly higher, trying to make sense of the place.

The light barely stretched a few steps ahead, and yet.... everything looked the same. The same peeling wallpaper. The same cracked wooden frames. The same long, narrow hallway.

Her voice trembled as she whispered, "Why.... why do I feel like I'm walking in circles?" She glanced behind her—only to see another stretch of the same hallway, swallowed in shadow. "Each corner looks the same.... no windows.... no difference...."

Her steps grew slower, hesitation in every move. The damp air pressed against her skin, sticky and cold, carrying the faint scent of rot and dust. Somewhere water dripped.... plip.... plip..... The silence between each drop gnawed at her nerves.

"This is stupid..." she muttered under her breath, trying to force a frustrated sigh, but it came out weak. "It's like I'm trapped in a copy of the same room."

Her reflection flickered faintly on the glossy screen of the phone—pale face, wide eyes, a faint tremor in her lips. "Please.... don't tell me this dream has no end," she whispered, voice cracking slightly.

The corridor stretched on ahead.... identical.... endless.... and still, she walked.

Creak...

The sound came faintly at first.... a soft, weighty press above the ceiling. Then another.... and another.... like someone... or something... was walking on the floor just above her.

Dila froze instantly. Her breath caught in her throat. Every muscle in her body locked in place as she tilted her head just slightly upward.

Creak... tock... tock... tock... tock...

It wasn't just footsteps anymore. There was something sharp tapping against the ceiling boards—fast, irregular, like claws or nails brushing wood. The rhythm made her stomach twist.

Her hands trembled around the glowing phone, the weak light trembling along with her shaking. The shadows flickered over the walls, stretching and shrinking with each movement.

She wanted to look... to see what was up there... but her fear pinned her still. Her mind screamed don't look, don't look! and yet her body refused to move anyway.

Her heartbeat was loud enough to fill the silence—thump... thump... thump...—each beat louder than the last. A cold drop of sweat ran down her temple, following the curve of her cheek as she whispered under her breath, "What... what could that be..."

The ceiling gave another slow creaaak above her, dust falling softly onto her hair. Dila's grip on the phone tightened, her knuckles pale. She didn't dare turn back. She didn't dare breathe too loudly.

The only thing she could do was stand there.... trembling.... listening to the haunting rhythm above her head.

The sound shifted.

It started faintly, almost too soft to notice.... a slow drag, like nails scraping gently along wood. Then came the subtle click... tap... click... of something descending down the wall behind her.

Dila's breath hitched. Her shoulders stiffened. She didn't turn. She didn't even blink. Her phone was frozen in her trembling hands, the pale white glow trembling against the dark hallway walls. The light barely reached her feet now, swallowed by the thick shadows crawling closer from behind.

Crrrkk... tap... tap...

Each sound grew clearer.... closer. Whatever it was, it was slowly climbing down the wall, its claws softly catching the wooden grooves, one by one, as if savoring the descent. The sound was unnaturally careful, as though it didn't want to be noticed—but it was too late. Dila already knew it was there.

Her body was cold, her legs stiff as stone. The air in the corridor felt thick, pressing against her lungs. Her heart was pounding so loud she thought the creature might hear it. The faint smell of damp wood filled her nose... mixed with something metallic, faint but sharp—like rust... or blood.

Her fingers twitched slightly, the phone screen flickering from the unsteady grip. She whispered in a shaky voice, "N-no... this is just a dream playing tricks on me i should wake up by now..." but the words barely left her lips, swallowed by the silence.

The sound touched the floor behind her—tap...

It was there now. Standing. Breathing faintly. So close she could almost feel it.

Dila's eyes widened, staring forward into the endless dark. Her reflection shimmered faintly on the white glow of her phone screen... and in that moment, she could swear she saw a faint shadow moving right behind her shoulder.

Dila's body reacted before her mind could even think.

Her legs burst into motion.... thud... thud... thud... pounding against the cold wooden floor as she sprinted through the corridor. Her breath came out in sharp, panicked bursts, haa... haa... haa... echoing off the narrow walls. The pale light of her phone bounced wildly with every step, throwing broken shadows across the walls and floor, each one twitching and jerking like something alive.

Her heart slammed in her chest, hammering faster than her feet could move. She didn't scream. She couldn't. Her throat was locked tight with fear.... it was as if her voice had been swallowed by the dark itself. The only sound that escaped her was the desperate rhythm of her breathing.

Cling... cling... cling...

It followed her. That sound—sharp, quick, and uneven—like metal claws scraping against wood, chasing her with terrifying precision. The more she ran, the faster it came, the more it matched her pace.

Dila's hand clutched the glowing phone so tightly her knuckles turned white. The dim white screen illuminated glimpses of the path ahead.... overturned chairs, dusty shelves, and cardboard boxes left to rot. She slammed into one of them, knocking it over with a loud CRASH! but she didn't stop. She didn't even feel the pain as a splinter scraped her leg.

She stumbled, caught her balance, and kept running—barefoot, trembling, her feet slapping the wooden floor in uneven rhythm. The hallway seemed endless, stretching on and on like a looping nightmare. Every corner looked the same.... every shadow felt alive.

The sound behind her grew louder—cling cling cling cling—like a spider crawling at full speed.

Her lungs burned. Her vision blurred. "No... no no no please..." she gasped between breaths, her voice breaking in panic.

The faint air of the corridor had turned thick and humid, filled with dust stirred from her frantic run. The white glow of her phone was the only thing anchoring her to sanity.... flickering now as if about to die.

But still—she ran. Through the darkness, through the echoing fear, as if running itself was the only thing keeping her alive.

Meanwhile.

The soft hum of the infirmary was shattered in an instant.

The glowing blue magic instruments that now surrounded Dila's bed flickered erratically, their runes pulsing faster and faster. The doctor—her white robe glowing faintly under the healing lamp—froze as the sound of the magical heart monitor spiked into sharp, irregular beeps.

Beep-beep-beep—BEEEEEEP—beep-beep!

"Wh–what's happening?!" the doctor gasped, her calm composure breaking. She rushed to Dila's bedside, her slippers scuffing against the polished marble floor. Her hands trembled as she adjusted the glowing scanning crystal above Dila's chest. "No... no no no, come on, stay with me..." she muttered, her voice cracking.

Dila's body jerked violently on the bed, her arms twitching, her breath uneven—haa... haa... haa... as if she were drowning in air. Her silver hair clung to her forehead, drenched in sweat. Her eyes were half-open, but shaking, flickering wildly beneath her lids.

"Princess Dila! Wake up!" the doctor shouted, her voice echoing in the quiet, sterile room. She reached out and held Dila's shoulders down gently, but her body convulsed again, stronger this time. The sheets rustled. The healing lamp beside her flickered. The glowing sigils etched into the walls pulsed red—warning color.

"Her heart rate is unstable! Her mana flow is collapsing!" the doctor cried out, looking at the readings on the glowing panel beside her. The numbers spiked erratically, and streaks of light from the monitoring spell stretched in all directions.

She quickly murmured an incantation, hovering her hand above Dila's chest as a soft wave of blue magic spread out—but the reaction was violent. Sparks of light burst from Dila's skin, making the doctor stumble backward. "No... her body's rejecting my magic!"

Dila's expression twisted in agony. In her dream, she was still running—eyes wide, tears streaking down her cheeks, heart pounding as something chased her through endless darkness. Her lips trembled, whispering silent pleas the doctor couldn't hear.

"Please wake up... please!" the doctor begged, pressing her hand over Dila's heart as the magic monitor wailed louder, a shrill BEEEEEEEEP shaking the room.

The air around the infirmary grew heavy, charged with raw mana. Loose papers fluttered. The healing lamp buzzed. The entire room began to hum as if reacting to the unstable power within her.

And still... Dila kept shaking violently, trapped in her nightmare.... running for her life through a world of shadows, while her real body lay trembling on the white sheets under the terrified eyes of the mage doctor.

Meanwhile.

Dila's breath tore out of her chest in ragged gasps, echoing in the endless corridor. Haa... haa... haa... Her bare feet slapped against the cold wooden floor, each step sharp and hollow in the darkness. The pale glow of her phone screen shook wildly in her trembling hand, the only light cutting through the black maze of walls and dust.

Behind her, the sound followed—soft, dragging, clawing. The rhythm was wrong. It didn't walk... it crawled faster and faster. A faint whisper trailed after her, ghostly and close, like it was brushing against her ear.

"Come here... High Princess... let's sleep... together..."

The voice was broken, distorted... playful, yet hollow. It slithered down her spine like ice.

Dila's heart clenched. "No—no thank you!" she screamed, her voice cracking in terror as her legs moved faster on their own. Her phone bobbed wildly, its dim light revealing flashes of warped furniture, torn wallpaper, and broken picture frames that lined the corridor like silent witnesses.

Something scraped against the floor behind her. A metallic screech. Then another. The sound was Rapid now. Closer.

She turned a sharp corner, her shoulder brushing against the wall, and there—a door stood open ahead, its edges swallowed by darkness. The faint light from her phone couldn't pierce through the black inside it.

Her pulse thundered in her ears. "Please... please let that be a way out," she whispered between gasps, tears stinging her eyes. Her hair stuck to her cheeks as she ran, the phone trembling in her slick hands.

The voice came again, closer this time, softer, as if whispering through her thoughts.

"Dila... don't run... or you'll wake up..."

"No... stay away!" she shouted, her voice trembling.

She could almost feel something behind her—its breath cold, brushing the back of her neck. Her feet pounded harder, the air growing heavier, thicker with every step. The open door loomed closer.

Just a few more steps. Just a few more...

Her legs burned. Her chest heaved. The world seemed to stretch and twist, the corridor narrowing as if the darkness itself was closing in. And as she is about to reached the edge of the doorway, her phone's light flickered once... twice... and dimmed—leaving her with only her pounding heartbeat and the whisper of that voice curling behind her like a promise.

Then Dila's body moved before her mind could catch up. In a heartbeat, she lunged forward.... headfirst toward the door. Her heart thudded violently in her chest as the world blurred for an instant. The wooden floor creaked under the desperate push of her feet, and then.... she was through.

The door slammed shut behind her with a violent, echoing crack! that shuddered through the dark hallway. A shrill, distorted wail erupted from the other side. It was the voice of a woman... stretched, warped, and filled with anguish.

"Noooo!" it screamed, the cry trembling through the wood like something clawing to escape.

And then everything fell silent.

Dila realized—she was falling.

Her breath caught as gravity seemed to vanish beneath her feet. The air howled past her ears, cold and sharp like blades slicing through her skin. The door she had leapt through was now far above, drifting away into a fading speck of dim yellow light. The space around her remained dark, endless... a hollow void that seemed to have no bottom, no direction, only the chilling rush of descent.

She clutched her phone tightly against her chest, her knuckles turning white. The screen flickered weakly, the last glow of reality in a sea of blackness. Her hair whipped violently in the rushing wind as she crossed her arms, bracing herself for whatever waited below. Her heart pounded with terror, her body trembling uncontrollably.

The darkness swallowed everything—the light, the echo, the breath in her lungs. All that remained was the sound of air roaring past her... and the fading echo of that ghostly cry, still lingering somewhere above.

Suddenly..

The roaring wind vanished in an instant.

It was as if the world itself had stopped moving. The rush of air, the free-fall... all gone. Dila's body was curled tight, her breath shivering out of her lungs as silence pressed in from every side. She hesitated before slowly lifting her right hand, her fingers trembling.

Her eyes darted around—

And her stomach sank.

She was back.

The basement.

The same small, suffocating room she had been in before. The same hum of her computer, low and mechanical, vibrating faintly through the wooden desk. The monitor glowed in the dimness, the blue-white screen flickering slightly as if nothing had ever happened. Even the clock on the corner of the screen... the second hand was still ticking in the exact same rhythm as before, steady and uncaring.

The air was dense. Heavy.

The faint smell of damp and dust clung to the place. The far corners of the basement were swallowed in darkness, only hints of shapes peeking through—a pile of old boxes, a hanging wire, the outline of an unused shelf.

But then Dila realized something was wrong.

She looked down at her hand...

Her breath caught.

She wasn't holding her phone anymore.

Instead, a small candle flickered weakly in her grasp. The wax was already half-melted, dribbling warm tears down her fingers. The flame swayed as if alive, its glow trembling in rhythm with her heartbeat.

She took a step back, her barefoot brushing the cold concrete floor. The faint hum of the fluorescent bulb overhead gave a sickly white tint to the air, buzzing unevenly. Only one light was working... and it barely reached beyond the desk.

The rest of the basement stayed shrouded in thick shadows.

Dila stood there frozen... her chest rising and falling quietly. The candlelight wavered against her pale face, her eyes wide and uncertain. Everything around her looked the same... yet something felt off. The silence was too deep, the air too still... as if the room was watching her, waiting for her next breath.

Meanwhile, back in the sterile white bed...

The sound of frantic beeping suddenly stopped. The once–shaking heart monitor steadied into a calm, rhythmic tone. The air that moments ago was filled with panic and chaos grew eerily quiet.

The female doctor, who had been pressing her trembling hands over Dila's chest, froze. Her eyes widened in disbelief.

"What... what is that?" she whispered, her voice shaky, barely escaping her lips.

Just seconds ago, Dila's body had been convulsing violently on the infirmary bed. Her limbs had tensed, her breath had hitched and broken, and her heartbeat had danced erratically across the glowing magical screen. Now... all of it was gone.

Her breathing was soft.

Steady.

Peaceful.

The sterile scent of healing herbs filled the room once more, the faint blue glow of the magic scanner washing Dila's pale skin in a ghostly light. Her long silver-white hair fanned across the pillow, strands still damp from sweat but resting calmly now.

The doctor blinked, stunned, her pulse still racing from moments of panic. She reached toward the edge of the bed, the faint rustle of her gloves breaking the silence.

Dila lay still.

Her expression no longer twisted in pain. Her face was serene... almost too serene, as if she had drifted into a world far beyond the hospital walls.

The doctor hesitated, her voice trembling. "Dila...?" she called softly, leaning closer. The quiet buzz of the magical devices filled the space again, yet the air carried something else beneath it... something faintly unnatural.

She stepped even closer, eyes glued to Dila's peaceful face—still, untouched by fear now. A strange calm spread through the room... and for a moment, the doctor couldn't tell whether Dila was truly resting or lost somewhere far beyond her reach.