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Tendrils of inky black ooze wrap around his arms, his legs- his vision blurs. Everything is dark. Arlin tries to swat away the sludge that surrounds him, but his limbs feel weak. Everything starts to fade. He doesn't have it in him to try to scream- the ink would kill him. All he can do is rage, before the darkness takes him.
When he wakes up, he is looking up at the sky. Blue, and not storming. The wood under him rumbles, just slightly- like the gentle lull of a parked ship. Taking in his surroundings, he finds that is exactly where he is. Joy fills his heart- did they all live? Was the crew safe? It felt impossible. Too good to be true.
He got up off the deck, starting to search the ship for the rest of the survivors. Everything was eerily empty. Everything, except for the entrance onto the ship. A boy- his little boy, Chip- stood on the gangplank. He was so young. Arlin remembers watching him get ripped away from him.
"Chip? Are you alright, boy?"
Chip moves with all available speed. He starts hitting Arlin- though, he is small, and it is hardly lethal.
"You took them! You took my family away!" Chip cries, scratching at Arlin's legs, almost searching for something. "Why did you take me here? What happened to my family? I hate you!"
Arlin stops. The hesitation of not pushing Chip away gives the boy enough time to grab a knife off of Arlin's belt, and push it into his heart. Everything goes dark.
Arlin gasps awake. The wood of the ship is calming, before the horror sets in. Chip killed him. Dead. No coming back. And yet- his hand felt the spot on his heart where he'd been stabbed. Nothing. No blood, no wound- no scar, either.
Little footsteps rushed up the gangplank. Arlin didn't stand up.
"Chip- Chip, you know I would never hurt you. I- I love-"
He gurgles around blood, quickly filling his mouth. Chip looks down on him, on the ground. "You killed them. You never loved me. If you did, they'd still be here."
Arlin closed his eyes, choking on blood.
Over and over, he'd sit up, chip would rush the deck, and he'd be dead. Somehow, some way. As time- or what could reasonably pass as "time"- passed, Chip grew. Arlin imagined if he'd gotten to see the real Chip grow up in this way, he'd be proud. His strong, smart boy. So brave. He hoped Chip hadn't followed him into this hell the egg had brought him to. He didn't know what he'd do.
Older, and older. A real life seemed to have been lived. Cracking voice, changing clothes styles- it felt real, sometimes. There were days where Arling didn't get up. There were days he hugged Chip, till his heart stopped beating. He'd never fight him. Not now, not ever. He'd keep waking up. It never hurt any less.
Arlin opened his eyes. Sitting up, and standing. Chip didn't immediately rush the deck, so Arlin decided to walk to the rail on the other side, for once. He heard the footsteps on the gangplank, and spoke.
"How many times does this make, now? Hundreds?" He sighs, softly. "We keep reliving the same moment. You're gonna try and kill me- and I'm still gonna love you, buddy." He hears Chip's breath hitch, as if holding back tears. He continues. "You're not gonna change my mind. I'll never, ever regret pulling you onto the ship. No matter what this place tries to make me believe." He smiles.
"You're my son. And you'd never hurt me." He doesn't dare to turn around- shatter this short-lived peace. But it takes a lot of effort not to when he hears Chip sniffle on the gangplank.
"So go on. Let's run it back again. I can do this all day." He sighs. Footsteps on the gangplank. At least it'll be over soon.
That is, until this older Chip speaks. "...You know, some people call it a 'chip'." Arlin can't help himself- he chuckles quietly.
"Easy mistake to make." Chip continues. Arlin pauses, just for a moment. He nearly turns around.
"Heh. Haven't heard that one before." he says, finally realizing something is well and truly Off this time.
"I think you have." Chip replies, self-assured. There is a smile in his voice- one he hasn't heard since Chip was young. Since he was still with his Chip. It's this tone- almost teasing out a reply- that makes him joke with this Chip.
"Kind of a silly name." he says, finally meeting Chip's eyes. It's not the version his mind constructs as "grown-up Chip". This Chip is… different. His hair is long, shaggy and wavy. He wears a red pirate's coat, and a red hat. Red cummerbund with two sword holsters. Firey tattoos under his coat- ones that look just like his own. He looks tired. His smile is just as big as it once was. It finally hits him- this is the real Chip. Not a fabrication of the egg- this is his son.
He wastes no time, crossing the deck to hug his boy. Pulling his head into his chest, giving him time to adjust. Gods above, he missed him. The real him, finally. "...Do I even want to know how you got here?" He asks, a smile in his voice that hasn't been back for ages.
"Probably not," Chip replies, "But I'm here. It's me."
Smiling, Arlin sits down next to the gangplank. "...Well. Tell me about it, tell me- tell me how great of a pirate you've become! You must have to make it all the way down here." Chip chuckles in turn, sitting down next to him.
"...I've got a good crew." And Chip starts off, just as energetic as he was when he was younger. Talking about his co-captains, his friends- Arlin couldn't be happier for him. Maybe this was the run where they'd be okay. Just knowing Chip had actually made it to him was more than enough. He listened intently, as Chip told him about the Albatross- smiling proudly at his son.