As they rolled toward the city gates, the scene grew clearer.
Even the civilians moved in military-style formation. Streets were divided into lanes, not for cars but for foot traffic and supply carts. Discipline pulsed through every step.
Posters lined the walls. Rules, regulations, curfews, evacuation protocols. All maintained by people who had once followed orders and now issued them.
It was not the city they had expected.
That was where they met him.
A man in a worn military coat approached as they entered the outer district to resupply. He was tall, serious, and flanked by soldiers who looked ready for trouble. But as soon as he saw Bob, the man smiled.
"Hello. I am General Vance. We have been waiting for you."
He extended a hand toward Bob.
Bob shook his hand, squinting. "How did you know we were coming?"
Vance chuckled. "Everyone knows. Your food truck was spotted days ago. You are kind of hard to miss."
"Thank you for the warm welcome," Gabe said politely, stepping forward and eyeing the man's uniform.
"I see you are military. Are you with the remnants of the government? Do you know Marcus, General Marcus?"
Vance's expression stiffened at the question.
For a moment, he seemed to hesitate, weighing whether he should say more. His eyes shifted briefly toward Bob and the others, as if measuring them.
In the end, he chose honesty.
"Yes, I know Marcus," he said. "But no, we are not part of the new government."
He paused again, then continued, his voice low.
"Did you know the so-called government now is run by the Secretary of Defense? Not the President. Not even the Vice President."
His tone turned bitter.
"The Secretary was not elected. He was not chosen by the people. And yet he holds the highest power. I do not think they represent the people anymore."
Gabe's eyes widened. "Seriously? We did not know that."
Sly tilted his head. "So, you are not military, but everyone here is in uniform?"
Vance turned and gestured to the city behind him. "Welcome to Phantom City. What you are looking at is the Phantom Battalion. We were one unit once. Now, we run this place."
As the crew looked around, the picture became clear.
The guards. The street workers. The organizers. Everyone wore military gear. Organized. Disciplined. Prepared.
A thousand strong, if the name was accurate.
The Phantom Battalion had survived the apocalypse. And they had brought order with them.
General Vance led Bob and the crew through Phantom City like a tour guide showing off a fortress.
The place did not just function. It thrived under discipline.
Every street they passed was orderly. Every building was reinforced with scrap plating and sandbags. There were no wandering civilians. Everyone moved with purpose.
Soldiers patrolled on foot and from makeshift towers. Spotters manned elevated platforms, using scopes and signal mirrors to watch for threats near the edge of the Pink Fog.
Gabe glanced around and lowered his voice. "Feels more like a giant military drill than a city."
Sly nodded slightly, keeping his voice just as low. "Yeah. One wrong move and it looks like they would throw you out."
"Everything here has a place," Vance explained, gesturing as they moved past a training yard where children and adults practiced side by side. Some were disassembling weapons while blindfolded. Others were mapping out emergency evacuation routes on drawn-up city blueprints.
"We run drills twice a day. Morning is for endurance. Evening is for tactical response."
The crew passed a long mess line set beside what had once been a school gym, now retrofitted with generators and food dispensers. Banners with unit numbers and insignias hung from the walls like military decor in a war museum. Street signs were color-coded and lit by solar-powered strips, making navigation possible even during night fog conditions.
Sly, walking near the front, whispered to Bob, "Kinda reminds me of a military-themed amusement park. Without the fun."
Bob sniffed the air and grinned. "Yeah, but the food smells better."
Vance glanced back at them, hearing just enough to smile. "Structure keeps us alive. We may not be flashy, but we are standing when others fell."
He lingered a little longer at each checkpoint, casually pointing out amenities, living quarters, and facilities. There was no hard sell, but the message was clear in the way he presented the city.
Phantom had room.
Phantom had order.
And Phantom could be their home.
The deeper into Phantom City they went, the more Bob and his team understood. This was not just survival. It was a system. A statement that humanity could still organize, fight back, and rebuild.
And Vance was determined to prove it. Maybe even convince them to stay.
"This is what survival looks like when everyone follows orders," Vance said, gesturing to the workers reinforcing a barricade. "No cults. No gangs. Just a chain of command."
They passed a cleared road at the edge of the city where a team of Glints stood just beyond the safe zone line, waiting for the Pink Fog to settle around them.
Sly squinted. "What are they doing out there?"
"That," Vance said with a smirk, "is our cleanup unit. We call them the Wreck Sweepers. They wait for their Glint transformation to kick in, then head into the Pink Fog to clear wreckage. Makes the roads passable. Safer."
Gabe nodded. "Makes sense. We noticed clearer roads on the way in. Even saw some other mobile safe zones."
"Exactly," Vance said. "We are establishing routes between zones. Eventually, we want to connect every major safe zone by land. Trade. Evacuation. Emergency support."
As they moved deeper into the city, Vance kept the conversation practical.
"We are still working within Region Five, District One. Phantom City, Greystone City, Minawa, and Rosewood City are our current focus."
Gabe glanced over. "How far have you gotten? You reach Minawa City yet?"
Vance shook his head. "Greystone City is the furthest we have cleared so far. We finished it just yesterday. It is right next to Minawa, so we are getting close."
He looked at the crew curiously. "Why?"
Bob raised a hand like a kid in class. "We are headed to Minawa. Iris wants to check on her parents."
"Ah," Vance said, his tone shifting slightly. "We may not be able to take you there directly, but we can offer something better."
Iris leaned forward. "What is that?"
"We have comms," Vance said. "Open lines with both Greystone and Minawa. If you give us names and an address, I can try to get you a live feed."
Iris's eyes widened. "Please. That would mean everything."
Vance nodded and led them toward the command center, a bunker-like structure guarded by two soldiers in scavenged riot gear. Inside, the room buzzed with activity. Operators sat at rows of monitors, scanning feeds and communication logs.
At the center of the room, one massive screen glowed with a steady message.
MINAWA CITY COMMS ACTIVE.
Vance stepped up to the microphone. "Minawa City command, this is Phantom City. Mayor Renjiro, are you there?"
A few seconds of static passed before the monitor flickered. A man in his sixties appeared on the screen. His uniform was neat, but his eyes looked tired.
"Phantom City, this is Mayor Renjiro. Go ahead."
"Sorry to disturb you, Mayor," Vance said. "I have visitors here with a request."
"If this is about the supply route, we are holding for now. We are eagerly waiting to be next. Word reached us yesterday that you completed the path to Greystone City. The whole command here is buzzing. If Minawa City gets connected next, it could change everything for us."
"No," Vance said gently. "This is something else. I would not have used this line lightly, Mayor. I have some very important guests here."
Vance turned the camera toward the crew. "I have here Bob and his crew."
Renjiro leaned forward, squinting at the screen. "Bob?... That name sounds familiar."
"You might have heard it from the recent broadcast," Vance said casually.
Renjiro blinked. Then his eyes widened. "Wait. That is Bob? The Goliath? You are with the Wild Bites?!"
"The very same!" Vance said with a proud nod. "They are en route to Minawa, but one of their crew has family there. We are hoping to check in."
Iris stepped forward. "My name is Iris Hiranami. I am looking for my parents. My mother Aiko, and my father Daichi. They live at 47 Sakura Rise."
Renjiro's expression softened. "I know that street. Give me a moment."
The screen went black for a few tense minutes. Then it flickered back on.
Mayor Renjiro had returned to his seat, but this time someone stood beside him. A man in his late forties with short, practical hair and wire-frame glasses. He looked thinner than Iris remembered, and the white in his hair had grown more prominent. The apocalypse had aged him, but it had not broken him. He wore a plain, neatly buttoned shirt, the kind of man who never tried to stand out. Just a father, weathered by survival.
"Iris?" he said softly.
"Dad!" Iris stepped closer to the screen.