Marvel Manifestor Chapter 410 410: Return to the Sanctum

Palr poured out far more disinfectant than necessary and slapped it directly onto Strange's wound with a sharp smack.

The intense pain twisted Strange's face, but he didn't dare cry out. He could only grit his teeth and breathe heavily.

"I know I was a bastard. I broke your heart. Back then, I really felt hopeless—like the whole world had abandoned . I couldn't find any purpose in life. And I even thought… you deserved soone better…"

The mont those last words left his mouth, Strange regretted them. He saw the look in Palr's eyes—cold, yet brimming with tears. That warmth instantly lted his heart.

"Oh really? Then I want to know what exactly happened over these past few months."

After securing the bandage, Palr gave his wound another firm smack.

"This goes back to when I realized Western dicine had no answers left. At the ti…"

Strange began recounting everything—from his journey to Kathmandu, to his training, all the way to being blasted into the New York Sanctum and suffering the injuries that brought him here. He held nothing back as he told Palr the full story.

"So… you're a sorcerer now? And those two who ca with you—they're sorcerers too?"

Palr could hardly believe what she'd heard. She would've thought Strange had lost his mind, if not for everything she had just witnessed proving otherwise.

"That's right. I'm now a full-fledged sorcerer of Kamar-Taj."

Strange gently reached out and caressed Palr's face.

"But your hands…"

Palr grabbed his hands, noticing they were still trembling just as badly as before—no improvent at all.

"This was my choice, Christine. Like you said, life shouldn't stand still. There are many anings to life—and now, I've found a new one."

Palr already understood what he ant. It also ant he would never return to being a doctor.

Once the bandaging was done, Strange imdiately tried to get up, but Palr stopped him.

"Wait. Where are you going? Your wound was just treated—you need rest."

Strange ignored her and insisted on standing. His movents were smooth, giving no sign that he had been critically injured just monts ago.

"Saving the world."

He knew his own condition. Though he appeared fine on the surface, he was still extrely weak—his steps slightly unsteady.

Palr supported him as they walked toward the storage room.

"I must be crazy, Stephen. I can't believe I'm actually believing all this."

She said it out loud, yet continued to help him without hesitation.

"Yeah. I guess we're both crazy."

Strange replied softly, never slowing his pace.

"Where are you going?"

Palr quickly asked.

"Actually, I need to return to the Sanctum. And the best way is through the portal in the storage room."

By the ti he finished speaking, they had reached the door. Seeing Palr's disbelief, Strange politely opened it and gestured for her to enter.

As the door swung open, golden light spilled out, illuminating Palr's stunned face. She stepped inside, and Strange closed the door behind them.

In the center of the room floated a circular portal crackling with golden sparks. On the other side was an ancient-looking corridor. Beside the portal hovered a blue cloak, which imdiately flew over and wrapped itself around Strange the mont he entered.

Palr felt her entire worldview collapse. Like Strange once was, she had been a staunch materialist, never believing in gods or spirits. But witnessing this scene firsthand left her no choice.

Before her shocked eyes, Strange—now draped in the blue cloak—stepped through the portal and stood in the corridor beyond.

"I have to go, Christine. Wait for —I'll co back."

His voice was calm. The portal slowly closed, and his figure vanished from her sight.

Palr stood there blankly, staring at the fading sparks in midair. Her mind drifted—perhaps thinking of sothing, or perhaps completely empty.

Back at the New York Sanctum, Mordo had just arrived.

"Strange! Thank goodness you're alright!"

When Mordo first reached the Sanctum, all he saw was devastation—and the corpse of its guardian. He had assud Strange had t the sa fate. Seeing both Strange and the Sanctum intact, he couldn't help but feel relieved.

"You could say that. I'm… mostly fine."

Strange replied casually. Having just brushed against death, calling it "fine" wasn't entirely inaccurate.

"That Cloak of Levitation…"

Mordo pointed at the blue cloak draped over Strange, surprise evident on his face.

"I can tell—it likes you."

"That's right. And not just anyone can obtain a cloak like this."

The Ancient One's voice suddenly rang out as she stepped out from the shadows.

"There were originally two Cloaks of Levitation. This blue one chose you. As for the red one—you've already seen it. It's with Karl."

Strange nodded. He had already wondered about this—the two cloaks were identical in every way except for their color.

"This cloak…"

Just as he was about to ask, the Ancient One continued,

"Like the one Karl has, this cloak was crafted by the sa master. Aside from their colors, the only difference is their personalities."

"Personalities? Cloaks have personalities?"

Strange couldn't help but touch the cloak.

"That's right. Every magical artifact is unique. Like humans, they each have their own temperant. You'll co to understand that in ti."

The Ancient One said no more. Any magical artifact required its wielder to explore and bond with it gradually.

Strange nodded, then said, "Sorry—I let him escape."

"Kacilius?"

the Ancient One asked.

"Yes. He can fold space at will, and open portals extrely quickly."

"You're saying he can manipulate space outside the Mirror Dinsion? In the real world?"

A slight change crossed the Ancient One's expression—she hadn't expected Kacilius to reach that level.

"That's right."

Strange nodded.

"How many people does he have?"

she continued.

"Two. One was trapped by in the desert. The other had his soul burned away by Karl."

Strange didn't hide anything, his gaze drifting downstairs.

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