Three weeks passed after Tony Stark announced his armor to the world. It was mid-September 2008.
Adrian walked through the streets of District 4 in Novi Grad, flanked by Wanda, Pietro, and the municipal head of public works.
A year ago, this sector was a maze of cracked pavement, broken windows, and cold radiators. Now, four hundred families were carrying boxes into six newly finished apartment blocks framed with reinforced domestic alloy.
Adrian walked down into the basement of the nearest building.
A veteran plumber named Tomas was tightening a brass coupling on the central water manifold. The older man jumped when he saw Adrian step onto the concrete floor.
"Mr. President!" Tomas wiped his calloused hands on his canvas overalls. "We weren't expecting you in the basement."
"How is the water pressure holding on the upper floors, Tomas?" Adrian asked, tapping the cast-iron gauge with his knuckle.
"Four bars steady, sir," Tomas replied with a grin. "The new domestic alloy piping doesn't leak a drop. For the first time in twenty years, the top floor will have boiling water before the kettle even hits the stove."
"Good work," Adrian said, shaking the plumber's hand. "Make sure every valve on the street is tested before the ground freezes."
Outside in the central courtyard, several thousand residents had gathered when word spread that Adrian was walking the district.
There were no military barricades and no armed guards pushing people back. Adrian stepped onto the low stone rim of a dry fountain, picking up a simple battery-powered bullhorn.
"Winter is coming in two months," Adrian's voice carried clearly across the courtyard. "In the past, the ministers in the capital told you to burn your furniture and pray for spring."
A few people chuckled, while older residents shook their heads at the bitter memory.
"This year, our national silos are full of domestic grain," Adrian said. "The coal grid is running at full capacity, and the radiators in every room of these buildings will stay hot all winter. On Monday morning, every public school in Novi Grad opens with free lunches and warm classrooms. We are done surviving from week to week. We are building our home."
The crowd broke into loud cheers and applause, waving from the balconies and sidewalks.
Near the entrance of the courtyard, an elderly woman in a patterned wool headscarf took Wanda's hands, tears shining in her eyes.
"My pantry has three sacks of flour, child," the woman said, her voice shaking. "Real flour from our own valleys, not foreign charity boxes. My grandson doesn't have to cough in the cold tonight."
Wanda smiled warmly, patting the woman's hands. "Keep the stove going, Babushka. There will be plenty of food all winter."
Across the street at an outdoor café, Pietro leaned against a table, listening to two train machinists in grease-stained jackets arguing over their tin cups of tea.
"I'm telling you, it was 7:00 AM on the dot," the older machinist insisted, slamming a metal spoon on the table. "Twelve days in a row, the Trnava commuter pulled into platform three before the factory whistle even blew!"
"I still can't believe it," the younger worker laughed, shaking his head. "Under the old ministers, you were lucky if a train showed up in the same week."
Pietro caught Adrian's eye across the avenue and gave a quick, amused grin.
October, November, and December passed in rapid succession.
Autumn turned into a bitter Balkan winter, covering the mountain passes in heavy snow. Yet, the country did not falter.
In October, the national school system reopened nationwide, and free public clinics began dispensing domestic medicines without foreign import surcharges.
In November, temperatures dropped below freezing, but the municipal power stations and hydroelectric lines held steady at peak output.
In December, Pietro and Wanda organized the state winter supplies, ensuring that seventy remote mountain villages received fresh provisions before the blizzards blocked the high roads.
For the first time in modern history, Sokovia closed out the year in total peace, warmth, and domestic stability.
Midnight struck in the Presidential Palace in Zubrovka.
Outside, snow fell silently across the lit avenues of the capital. Inside his private office, Adrian sat behind his desk, watching the mechanical clock on the wall strike twelve.
A translucent blue notification box materialized directly in front of his eyes.
<< Annual Sign-In available. Sign in? >>
"Yes," Adrian thought.
A blinding flash of white light bloomed within his mental realm.
Standing in the center of the void was a colossal stone doorway etched with ancient cosmic carvings—the Gate of Truth from the world of Fullmetal Alchemist.
It was the ultimate metaphysical source of alchemy, embodying the absolute rules governing the physical composition and restructuring of matter.
Sophia acted immediately within his consciousness.
<< Sophia: Conceptual artifact detected: Gate of Truth. World of Origin: Fullmetal Alchemist. >>
<< Commencing analytical deconstruction and conceptual absorption. >>
Streams of digital light coiled around the stone monolith, breaking down its conceptual framework and integrating it directly into Adrian's soul.
<< Sophia: Integration complete. Universal transmutation comprehension unlocked. Transmutation Authority acquired. >>
A vast understanding of universal matter restructuring poured into Adrian's mind.
He gained complete Transmutation Authority. He no longer needed alchemical circles, geometric arrays, or ritual preparations to alter matter.
The sign-in did not hand him pre-packaged material formulas on a silver platter.
Instead, he held the fundamental principles of transmutation. To craft complex compounds or synthesize entirely new, unknown materials, he and Sophia would need to analyze the baseline atomic lattices and determine the correct structural configurations through rigorous testing and trial and error.
Adrian looked down at his desk.
Sitting beside his inkwell was a jagged grey river stone he had picked up along the railway tracks in Trnava.
He placed his right palm flat against the cold stone.
<< Sophia: Analyzing target composition: silicon dioxide, aluminum silicates, iron traces. Target conversion: titanium alloy. >>
<< First test: Density balance unstable. Molecular bonds misaligned. >>
<< Recalibrating: Adjusting lattice compression and purging non-metallic residues. >>
On the third internal calculation, the atomic structure clicked into alignment.
Blue sparks crackled quietly across Adrian's fingers.
The rough stone liquefied under his touch, flowing like mercury for a fraction of a second before hardening into a smooth, sharp rectangular bar.
Adrian lifted his hand.
Sitting on the blotter was a flawless, cold ingot of aerospace-grade titanium.
Adrian picked up the metal, feeling its perfect weight.
Once they worked out the trial tests for rare-earth elements and high-grade polymers, foreign trade embargoes would have zero leverage over Sokovia.