Strange saved the world, but his hands remained scarred—a permanent reminder that his hands were no longer meant for healing one person at a time, but for protecting the very fabric of reality.
Armed with the , Strange flew into the heart of the Dark Dimension. He didn't fight Dormammu with strength; he trapped him in an infinite time loop . Strange saved the world, but his hands remained
The sterile halls of the London hospital felt colder than usual as Dr. Stephen Strange prepped for surgery. He wasn't just a surgeon; he was an artist whose brush was a scalpel and whose canvas was the human brain. But arrogance is a fragile pedestal. One rainy night, a high-speed blur of metal and ego sent his Lamborghini careening off a cliff, shattering his hands and his reality. The sterile halls of the London hospital felt