Disclaimer: I don't own Soul Nomad & the World Eaters

This follows Normal Path: Gig ending and Demon Path: Good ending.

Good god, this friggin sucked.

The Master of Death, the destroyer of everything, the commander of world eaters or simply, Gig, sat on a stone slab at the entrance of the Hidden Village. Letting out a truly magnificent yawn as he leaned back in utter boredom, mind wandering to better things – like hotpods. Ever since he had come back as a human, he was assigned as a town guardian to protect the damn village that they had taken back from the Thurist cultists that were still in awry disarray at the loss of their so called god.

Smug, self-absorbed dumbasses. That's what they were. Cause hell, who in their right mind worshipped an asshat like Thurist?

After all the moving and all the explaining he had to do to the kid, the stupid cow, and a few other overly nosy parties about how he was brought back and why he got to keep his memories and physical appearance – because he was Gig, that's why – here he was. Stuck on the night shift with the kid who stood a few feet away from him. Why they even had to guard this godforsaken place was beyond him. No one came here, the place looked dirt poor, and it was right smack in the middle of abso-fucking-nowhere! But this job kept that damned old hag off his back and people didn't give him lip whenever he decided to go for a late snack and finish all the hotpods – well, not usually. The more ballsy and more stupid ones told him off. That dumbass cow being one of them. Not like he listened. Gig had pride in his selective hearing and his amazing ability to shut people the hell up.

Blue eyes wandered over to the kid – or Revya. Nah, the kid. Even mentally calling her name creeped him out. They may have body bunked and saved the entire friggin world, but that wasn't grounds for him to let go of his beloved nickname. They were the only one's here, but they were way more than enough to guard this place. Hell, even he was enough. Having both of them here seemed like overkill, but that damned hag seemed to take some kind of sick pleasure in keeping them together.

The kid's eyes were boredly looking out at the surroundings. Her red hair stood out against the gloom of the night and that damn bra she donned did nothing to protect her against the chill night air, but she didn't seem to care. The kid just stared blankly out at the world. Friggin quiet as ever.

Gig suddenly sighed, thoroughly annoyed by the lack of hotpods in his thoughts. He ran a hand through his light hair, before leaning back on his palms. His scythe balanced over his thighs.

"Hey, kid," Gig called, finally breaking the silence. He waited for her to turn to him, still finding it strange how he could actually see her face. Because yes, he wasn't in that sack of fat anymore. Thank god. "I just got one hell of an idea."

"What?" Revya asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Wanna make yourself useful and go raid the kitchens for some nice juicy hotpods?" He tossed the bait and she definitely nipped because she sighed and crossed her arms.

"Do that yourself, Gig. You have a body."

Ah, he'd never get tired of this. Boredom and silence bothered him, not that he'd ever admit that. But he had had a lot of it, more than enough for a thousand lifetimes.

Gig smirked, sarcastic and dry. "I figured you needed the exercise. Hell, you could do without all that extra fat. Careful, you might end up actually becoming a cow just like that little annoying friend of yours. Wouldn't that be a laugh?"

The sarcasm in his voice could kill. He spoke fluently in the language of liquid mockery and snarky remarks.

"You haven't changed at all, Gig," she said, moving to sit beside him.

There was a hint of subdued fondness in her voice. Not that he was paying attention or anything, but he was just so used to noticing these kinds of things. They had shared a body for Haephnes' sake. Not once, but twice. Friggin twice! Oh man, the second time was a real pain in the ass. Yuga Mountain, that shithole. Stupid Crimson Tear. Stupid love tests. It was when he found out things about her – about her feeble human emotions that made him laugh even to this day. But hell, he couldn't blame her for developing those kinds of feelings for him. He was damn irresistible.

Gig raised an eyebrow. "What? Not satisfied with me, soul mate?"

The way he exaggerated the phrase always had her grinning, and this time was no exception. She faced him with a tiny smile on her face.

"Definitely not, soul mate," she responded with ease, before looking up at the night sky.

"Uh-huh," Gig muttered, following her gaze up.

"Hey," she called, after a moment. "What's it like up there?"

He raised an eyebrow at the sudden randomness. The damn kid's mind could wander into moronic philosophical ideas at the drop of a hat. Gig merely shrugged. "What makes you think I know? Heh heh."

She turned to him with furrowed brows and disbelieving eyes. That laugh of his was what gave him away. She knew it and hell, he knew it too. He really had to stop doing that, damnit.

"Fine, fine," Gig said, exasperatedly. It honestly wasn't that different from Drazil. Less creepy kid clones, but that was it. Souls in Prodesto still got to choose their dumbass name and gender, if that's what she meant. "It's filled with peace loving, spineless prigs. Wussies, the lot of 'em. Oh, did I mention that it was boring? No one to kill, no pain to cause, not even any damn hotpods. I mean, what kind of twisted world doesn't know of the divine beauty of the hotpod?! The boring kind, that's what!"

She looked back up at the sky and by the glassy, far-away look in her eyes he knew she was still thinking about it.

"Why are you even askin' that, kid?" Gig asked, sighing loudly. She looked like she had something to say.

She shrugged. "Just thinking."

"That's not good for you."

Revya yawned, but otherwise didn't answer. She mimicked his position and leaned back on her palms, adjusting her bra straps that were being blown by the damn wind. It was distracting, to say the least. Not that he cared for her equipment, but he was still a guy. A straight one. She settled down and they sat in relative silence for a moment.

One.

Two.

"Okay, that's it," Gig said, standing up and making his way inside. If she wasn't gonna talk about the problem she obviously had then he sure as hell wasn't going to pry it out of her like some worried mother hen. That was just so… yuck. It was sappy and familial and just, no. "Let's go, kid."

"Huh?" She looked up. Confusion written all over her features. "Where?"

"Hurry up," he half-whispered, half-barked the order, as he made his way back into the village. Obviously not giving a single shit about her thoughts or any protests she might have had.

"We're still on guard duty," she stood back a bit. Reluctant to follow.

Gig pointed to an invisible spot northeast of them. "The sun'll be out in an hour. No one's gonna come to this stupid countryside anyway and even if they did there are fighters all over the village. They'll take care of them."

Revya stood there a moment longer, looking once more at the silent surroundings, before nodding her head and following after Gig's quickly retreating back. They made their way inside and to the kitchens where they could already smell a feast being cooked up. Gig nonchalantly shoved the door open with a large smirk decorating his face.

"Hey, cheffies. I'm starving, so hurry up with that, would ya?" He said, strolling in with his scythe in his hands and a dangerous aura emanating from his entire form.

"G-Gig!" One of the chefs squeaked. He was a young Whirwhin with an obviously easily startled disposition. "W-What are you doing h-here?"

Gig spared him a glance. One glance and nothing more. As if everything that he was had been judged, perceived, and dismissed in that one moment. Instead, Gig walked up to the counter where a few ripe hotpods were laid out. The look on his face screamed, 'I don't like you, but I'll gladly eat your food.'

"This is what I'm talkin' about~!" Gig announced in delight, grabbing two platefuls and a bottle of what looked to be syrup, before hastily making his way back out. Just as abrupt as his entrance. "Come on, kid."

Revya grabbed a few hotpods from the noticeably smaller pile, shooting the chefs an apologetic glance before following Gig back out. It was a half-hearted apology, but still an apology nonetheless. Gig sat at a nearby table and had already begun munching away at the hotpods at a famished pace. Revya had a feeling that if he were starving and was offered a two pound steak or an average hotpod then Gig would undoubtedly choose the latter.

"You just gonna stare?" He asked, after swallowing what looked to be three fourths of a hotpod doused in syrup. His hands were already lathering another one. "I'm not sharing. Get your own."

Gig watched as she shook her head and sat down beside him, before taking a healthy bite of her own considerably smaller portion. He supposed that with him no longer in her body then she didn't have to eat as much. Her eyes were glazed over again and she looked to be contemplating something of extreme importance. Her eyebrows were furrowed and her shoulders were tight with tension as if the fucking world was gonna end at any moment.

He sighed loudly, trying to get her attention. When she didn't respond, he took to snapping his fingers in front of her face. Once, twice, three times. Nope. Nothing. He called her name. Not kid. Her actual name and when that didn't work he did the last thing he could. He didn't throw a hotpod at her, – that would have been a disgrace to the glory of the hotpods – but he did drop it back onto his plate.

The strangeness of that action alone seemed to have roused her from her thoughts because she looked at him with confusion, tilting her head in silent question.

"Don't you give me that look!" He pointed a finger at her in accusation.

"Wha—"

"Look, kid," Gig interrupted. "Don't try to give me some half-assed explanation or some 'what look' shit. Just own it. I don't know what's wrong with you, but are you gonna talk or what? Cause you constantly hanging around looking like you have something to say is creeping me out."

She opened her mouth to protest. About to say that he was the one that had told her to follow, but he interrupted her once more. He had already expected that response.

"Spit it out already, damnit!" Gig barked in such an uncompromising tone that Revya's eyebrows shot up. He wasn't worried about her or anything, he was just annoyed that she looked like she had something she wanted to tell him. "You're making me feel like a moron here!"

Then as she was about to speak again, for the third time that minute, she was interrupted by the door banging open.

"WHAT IS WITH THE YELLING?!" Danette screamed in a louder voice than both of theirs combined. She was still in pajamas and her head was a mess.

"Oh, great," Gig's voice oozed sarcasm. Words laced with a full-on coating of derision. "The stupid cow's awake."

"WHAT WAS THAT?!" She stomped over and harshly poked Gig's shoulder. Her eyes filled with loathing.

"What?" Gig asked, shrugging her hand off. "Are you deaf now too? As if being stupid and whiny wasn't bad enough."

"You're dead! I'm gonna slit your neck!" She yelled, aiming a punch for his head. Gig dodged with practiced ease.

"Jeez," Gig said, grabbing his leftover meal and standing up so as to dodge her weakass blows more effectively. "Someone woke up on the wrong side of stupid this morning."

"Whose fault was that?!"

He smirked when she didn't deny it.

"Well, gee, I don't know," Gig rolled his eyes. He really didn't know. Unless the cow was just able to hear his conversation with his little soul mate from about twenty rooms away. "We're just trying to eat and have a nice little morning conversation, but I know how much that's not allowed."

"I could hear your voices!" Danette seethed.

Gig scoffed. "Blame that stupid hearing. I thought you were a cow, not a damn bat."

"You did this on purpose!" She accused. "You know I had a long night and—"

"Oh, boohoo," Gig said, mockingly. "So you lost a few hours of beauty sleep. Want Uncie Gig to sing you a lullaby?"

"Agh!" Danette yelled in frustration, shooting a quick glance at Revya and the dozens of hotpod stems laid out on the table. Most were already eaten and the few that weren't were in Gig's hands. "YOU ATE ALL THE HOTPODS?!"

"Too bad, sucker!" Gig said, a little too happily. Not even bothering to mention the fact that the chefs were still cooking more food. It wasn't like she'd listen to him anyway. "That's what happens when you sleep in. Besides, all the hotpods in the world belong to me! The Indestructible Gig!"

"You think I won't slit your throat?!" She repeated the weak comment. "I don't care if you're married to my best friend, I'll still kill you!"

"Danette," Revya suddenly called, but she went ignored. Those in the village and their closer acquaintances knew of their relationship, but other than that it wasn't really something they brought up. Mostly because neither she nor Gig cared to announce such things.

"Gee," Gig said, rolling his eyes. "Way to announce it to the world. Scream louder why don'tcha? I don't think the Drazilians heard you."

"Oh, please," Danette said, dismissing his words with a wave of her hand. "As if everyone doesn't already know."

"Thanks to your yelling," Gig shot back.

"It's already common knowledge that you two are in lo—"

The door to the kitchen creaked open and Layna the Firebrand came strolling in. Her wrinkles were more prominent than before the war, but she still maintained a youthful smile. Her graying hair looked almost like Gig's, except hers was noticeably older – dry, almost. Unlike Gig's whose hair was just naturally a strange tint.

"Oh my," Layna said. "Is everything alright?"

"Lady Virtuous!" Danette called with glee, changing her tune in a heartbeat. "Good morning!"

Virtuous gave her a smile. "Good morning, child!"

"If it isn't Virtubitch!" Gig said, giving the hag a flippant smirk. "Stop your stampeding cow, before I butcher her and hand her over to the chefs as fresh beef."

Layna ignored the brutal remark with killing patience, eyes roaming each of their faces. "Why are you two fighting? Did you find out about the baby?"

"What?" Danette asked. The strange words had her forgetting for a brief moment who exactly she stood before.

"Baby?" Gig asked, raising an eyebrow. "Have you gone senile, old hag?"

Her eyes settled on Revya and the two previously fighting also turned to look at her.

"Uhh," Revya looked over at Gig. "Surprise?"

The only sound that could be heard was a loud and distinctly virile, 'oh, shit,' courtesy of Gig, who had almost dropped the hotpods he had been holding. Almost. No way would he ever drop a hotpod. When he properly stood up again after the epic catch, he looked up to find the kid's eyes only on him. She was waiting for his reaction that much was obvious.

"Listen, kid," Gig scratched his head. Slightly uncomfortable with the anxious face she was showing him. "Next time just up and say these things!" He said in his usual harsh tone. "Drazil's ass! Making me feel like a total moron. I'm not in your head anymore, I can't figure out exactly what you're feeling and all that shit. Got that, soul mate?"

She grinned. That was such a nice term. "Are you happy, Gig?"

He smirked, rolling his eyes and shoulders in exasperation – and just to move. To release the tension in his body.

"What?" He smirked. "To have my own little demon sprog running around? Are you kidding me? Good god, you think a crying, whining, sack of fat like that would make me happy? Heh heh."

Vigilance opened his eyes.

What a pleasant dream filled with content and happiness.

Was that a memory? No. Impossible.

Gig was gone. Asleep somewhere inside him. Him, who had regained his memories and stopped the Devourlord from destroying the world – sans her and himself. He had betrayed her before she could fulfill that mission, before she could spend eternity together with him –no, with Gig. It was Gig. Not him– in oblivion. Just the two of them. Two soul mates. Two broken souls. These kinds of dreams came to him every now and again. They haunted him. If they were some kind of alternate universe or because of guilt, he couldn't say. Perhaps it was just another one of those 'what if' situations conjured up by his imagine or maybe even a different cycle of life. Yes, that was likely.

It was what could have happened had a few situations been changed, different choices made, and the fine print altered.

But that wasn't what happened. Those were optimistic delusions. They weren't real.

He had betrayed her and he felt the stinging guilt. Was it him or was it the Gig in him? Not like there was much difference. But he couldn't deny that there was the heavy feeling of doubt lingering in his heart – in his very soul because he had been forgiven, while she –his companion, his soul mate– was imprisoned in the sword that had once housed himself. A solitary place filled with loneliness. But at least she had someone there. If Danette was still around, that is. For all he knew, her powers could have weakened. It had been centuries, after all.

Right now, was she lonely? Just as Gig had been? Did he not deserve the same fate?

Gig had never wallowed in self-pity or any form of self-hate, but Vigilace drowned in it. Not in hate, but in doubt. He doubted his actions. What would he have done if he hadn't gotten back his memories? It was a life altering truth, but it was also a life altering betrayal. He betrayed her and that more than anything else Vigilance – Gig had done, hurt him. Somewhere, in a deep, buried part of him, he never felt more of a monster than when he had broken out into a speech lamenting over what he had done.

He wanted to see her.

At least, a part of him did. But what would he say? What would he speak about when he saw that black sword? Would she even listen? Maybe not. He was no longer the god she knew. He wasn't the god that stayed by her side. He wasn't the god she had fun with. Maybe in a different life they could have something more. They could have something like what he had in his dream. Vigilance didn't need sleep, but whenever he was ahead with his work it's all he seemed to do. She had always loved taking long naps and letting Gig have control of her body. The Master of Death would show her what he had done during her slumber, awaiting the small smile that would grace her lips.

It was fun.

A feeling he had carried. Yet another thing not meant for him. But he could do nothing to get rid of it. All he could do now was sleep.

She was gone whenever he awoke, but maybe, just maybe, she'd come back in his next dream.

"Weakness? Hah. No such thing."

-Gig, Soul Nomad & the World Eaters.

A/N: This is a dead fandom, so I hope any readers that come back to this enjoy my story. Please spread more GIGXREVYA love. The SN fandom desperately needs more stories and I'm proud to be able to contribute.

…

PLEASE DON'T FORGET TO REVIEW!

Blob80 out.