Tony Stark and Stephen Strange

The cold war between Tony Stark's billionaire intellect and the mystical pride of the Cloak of Levitation had reached a point of no return.

Just minutes before, the cloak had tried to pull Tony away from Stephen with a subtle but firm tug of its fabric. But Tony, being Tony, never stood idly by. In a swift, audacious, and utterly unnecessary move for the Sorcerer Supreme's sanity, Stark leaped directly onto Strange's back, wrapping his arms around his neck and clinging to him like a stubborn, high-tech koala.

Stephen staggered forward, letting out a muffled groan as he cushioned Tony's weight and prayed internally that patience was a superpower.

The Cloak of Levitation appeared before them, hovering in a manner that conveyed utter, floating indignation. With one of its lower edges, the mystical fabric firmly grasped the hem of Tony's black T-shirt, pulling it back in a clear attempt to tear it from its wearer.

"Aha! So that's what this is all about!"

Tony exclaimed with a smile of pure victory on his face, tightening his grip around Stephen's shoulders and looking down at the cape with an air of superiority.

"Just admit it, floating fabric... Stephen loves me more than a mere flying cape."

The cloak froze in mid-air. The ensuing silence was thick, charged with a magical fury that made the Sanctum Sanctorum vibrate. Stephen, who knew his relic's temperament perfectly, opened his eyes wide, feeling a cold sweat trickle down the back of his neck.

"Oh, no..."

Stephen whispered in a whisper, deeply regretting the day he'd decided to invite Stark to his sanctuary. The cloak wasn't going to stay put, and Tony was about to find out that mystical artifacts don't take insults lightly.