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Levi was not born — she was woven. Crafted by ancient sorcerers, she was designed to be the perfect guardian: loyal, instinctive, incapable of hesitation. Yet they made one mistake—
They gave her the ability to become human. For a time, she lived as both cloak and companion to her first master. She spoke, learned, felt. She believed she was more than the magic that made her.
Then he turned rogue. Through curse and ritual, he stripped her autonomy, binding her permanently into cloth. She could think, feel, remember—
—but never move. For decades, she hung within the Sanctum. Watching. Listening. Existing in silence.
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Stephen Strange did not free her with power—
He freed her with recognition. Where others wore her, he trusted her. Where others commanded, he allowed her to act.
The curse began to loosen.
At first, it was small—hesitations in movement, flickers of intent. Then one night, she stood before him in human form once more—
unsteady, half-formed, hovering. She did not touch the ground. She still doesn’t. Not always.
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