Peacekeepers Hunger Games Novels & Stories

Jasper asked. "No. Sir never asks or bothers about what she eats or what she does. In fact, if she pisses sir off, sir orders me to not give her anything to eat for the day. But ma'am is a sweet woman, so I do sneak food for her," Maria answered but then closed her eyes realising that Jasper is Lucian's brother. "Don't worry, your secret is safe with me," Jasper smiled. He didn't know why, but he felt relieved that if not him, there was someone who genuinely cared for her.

Eyes sparkled, hands clenched with newfound belief, and for a rare moment, kings, queens, and warlords all sat under the same roof with shared purpose. The Peacekeeper Force—fully manned, multinational, organized—was no longer a theory. It was real. And perhaps too real. I stood once more, feeling the weight of a dozen gazes drawn to me. The momentum was there, a rising tide of support, but I knew all too well how quickly hope could become hunger. I raised one hand. “Before we grow too euphoric over what we’ve just built, allow me to temper the flame.” The room stilled. Like the pause between the strike and the toll of a bell.

“How bad is it out there?” “Fucking chaos. Goddess, Auri, it’s like a god damn world war out there. Nowhere is safe. No one is safe. At one point, Vale fucked up and added fuel the fire. Poor boy didn’t mean to but then Zeke just swooped in and took care of it. He’s made a name for himself, Ezekiel the Peacekeeper. I don’t know how he does it but damn if he isn’t the only thing standing between the few lives we’ve lost already and hundreds of thousands of lives we could have lost.”

The Peacekeepers straightened up as she approached, then escorted her as they all traveled towards the hangar. “So many tough boys just for one little girl,” sighed Eva. “All due respect Miss Freya,” said one of the Peacekeepers, “you’re not a little girl, and you’re incredibly dangerous.” “Also, we’re sorry you’ve gotta go through this,” said another. “You’ve got a few fans among the Peacekeepers, and we’re not too keen on your conviction either.”

It was covered in maps, half-eaten rations, and the jagged remains of the Black Ledger. Kael sat at the head of the table, his grey-painted armor scarred and soot-stained. Beside him was Jax, the Tunnel-Rat leader, and a holographic projection of High-Elder Vahn. "The Peacekeepers are no longer Peacekeepers," Kael began, his voice a gravelly rasp. "They’ve rebranded themselves as the Iron-Guard. They aren't enforcing Syndicate law anymore. They’re protecting the 'Harvest-Zones.' But Leo... they’re hungry. The golden fruit is keeping people alive, but we need proteins. We need medicine that isn't made of vines."

The corridors, once filled with the stifling tension of the Council’s observers and spies, were now a staging ground for a war of survival. As we reached the Great Ramparts, the sight below was enough to freeze the blood of any mortal. Thousands of Peacekeepers in shimmering silver-thread cloaks were fanning out across the snow-dusted valley. They moved with a mechanical, soul-crushing precision, their null-iron pikes glinting like a sea of needles designed to puncture magic itself.

They were breathing, but their heart rates were so low it seemed they were in hibernation. "It's a mercy killing on a global scale," Elara murmured, her white hair tucked under a dark hood. "They aren't just remembering; they're being archived. Lilith is turning humanity into a static library." Suddenly, a metallic clang echoed from a nearby alley. A Peacekeeper Drone emerged from the shadows. Its chassis was scorched, and its blue "Safe-City" lights flickered with jagged violet static. It didn't scan for IDs. It simply opened its weapon ports.

Even Gunner, usually more stoic, cracked a rare grin as he pulled Cheyenne closer by the hip. It wasn’t the triumphant return after war. It was better, this was peace. This was home. By the time the guardians, mates, and leaders made it inside the packhouse, the long tables in the dining hall were already groaning under the weight of food. Someone—probably Grammy—had outdone themselves.

See her face pinken the way that mine can't. Peacekeeper was different than Huaca. Not golden or polished to perfection, but lived-in. Homey even. It felt like a home. Not even my flat felt like home. Deep in my thoughts, I unpacked my clothes and prepared my supplements to quell my bloodlust, enough to last months on a mission. My weapons stayed within reach. I didn't think any of the crew was out to get me, aside from perhaps the wolf mechanic, but I still didn't know these people.

He stood beside me, watching the chaos unfold on the screens. But I wasn't celebrating. My vision was clouded with a new, dark premonition. I saw the Peacekeepers emerging from the shadows, their weapons leveled not at the sky, but at the crowd. I saw Director Vane, standing on his balcony, his face a mask of cold fury. "It’s not over," I said, my voice trembling. "Vane isn't retreating. He’s declaring war." The plaza began to erupt in violence. The Peacekeepers were moving in, trying to force the people back, trying to restore the order that had just been shattered. The screams of the crowd were beginning to reach us, a jagged, terrifying sound that tore through the morning air.