As you can no doubt tell from the title, this chapter makes good on the suggestion of divine intervention, although it might not be as epic as you think. I'm certainly not wanting to be in Chronus' position, however. You'll see what I mean.

On a side note, my updating will probably be slowing down on a permanent basis. My work schedule is picking up a bit, and I'm finding less time to write. Plus, I'm kind of deciding how I want things to end, and without that I'm a bit stuck in some areas. But no worries, I will definitely be keeping a semi-regular schedule. And reviews always help.

Also, stay tuned at the end of the chapter for an announcement that may very well rock your socks.

Disclaimer: I don't own Class of the Titans. If I did, some explanation as to why all the heroes can magically use their assorted weapons would be provided. I can understand Odie's technological brilliance and Theresa's proficiency with her nunchucks, given their backgrounds. Even Atlanta has some plausibility, since she's supposed to be a tracker of sorts. But I hardly think Archie and Jay spent time as young boys cracking whips and parrying with swords. If they did, I would wonder about the parenting involved.

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Deus Ex Machina?

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Neil woke suddenly to a sharp pain in his mouth and a sudden gasp that almost suggested he had been holding his breath. He frowned, realizing that he had bit his tongue while in the midst of a dream. The room around him was dark and seemed to be growing darker still. It's late, he realized. How long have I been sleeping?

Slowly, he sat up, muscles protesting slightly. Neil doubted he would be walking straight any time soon, but it seemed a small price to pay. He was sure he could turn whatever ungraceful waddle he started out with into a swanky waltz in no time, given that he actually got out of bed to do anything about it. It was as he swung his legs over the side, tugging them free of the limp sheets, that Neil noticed he was alone.

The house is not kind of creepy, he thought to himself, staggering upright and trying to find some article of clothing that wouldn't require more than a few steps and little bending to fetch. Luckily, a pair of boxers had managed to snag on the edge of the small dresser. He snatched them up and wiggled into them with a soft grunt.

His first adventure was the search for a bathroom, which ended leading him to the base of the stairs. Sure some fate was laughing at him, Neil hobbled up carefully, keeping a death grip on the banister in case his foot was grabbed at by a step, or his legs just decided to give up on him completely. In spite of the long nap he'd taken, the blonde found himself yawning quite a bit. By the time he reached the top of the stairs, Neil had to stop and wait for the floor to settle down and stop spinning. He thought he caught a glimpse of someone watching him, with tired eyes and a wry smile, but when he looked it was just a lamp on a table. Hallucinating, he decided, was not a good sign.

"Looking for something, good-looking?" Galen said, smirking, from the kitchen. Neil jumped with a little yelp and turned to face him. "You've been asleep for quite a while, and you look terrible. More nightmares?" He walked his fingers lazily across a countertop.

Neil shivered, scattered, foggy memories surfacing in brief flashes that had him fingering his hair distractedly. Suddenly the very idea of sleeping seemed foreboding, and he wrapped his arms around himself. "I can't remember them," he said quickly. "Just pieces." There was something about cold, dark water that nagged at him, but Neil pushed the image away.

Galen gestured for him to come closer. "I'm sorry to hear that." As soon as Neil was within reach, Galen pulled him close and simply held him. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

"What time is it?" the model asked. He eyed the shadows crawling across the wall. A yawn caught him off guard soon after. "I should probably head back to the dorm soon."

Galen shrugged. "After five." He pressed a kiss to Neil's cheek. "I like your sense of fashion." His fingers trailed a line from shoulder down toward the blonde's navel.

Neil shrugged himself out of the embrace with a smile. "I should head home before the others start wondering. Or would you like to explain why there's suddenly two of me?" His smile faltered at the look on Galen's face.

"I think they might be happy if there were only two of you." He grabbed Neil's wrist and pushed him back against the fridge. "As it is, they have their hands full. And so do you."

--

Chronus raised his scythe, preparing to strike the ending blow that would guarantee his success as ruler of the universe. Jay backed slowly toward Atlanta who warded off the misshapen statues with the swivel chair. They stood back to back, facing two equally unappealing options.

"I'm open to suggestions," Jay said.

"I'd give you some if I had any," Atlanta returned.

As the first groping fingers of the statues snagged on the swivel chair, getting ready to rip it out of Atlanta's grasp, the atmosphere in the hallway suddenly changed. It seemed to get lighter, wider. The shuffling Neils stopped and even Chronus straightened up to look around, a strange look on his face. Atlanta looked past the Titan herself, trying to figure out what was going on. Jay merely sighed softly, his earlier grin returning.

"Wow," he breathed with a slight chuckle.

Chronus was scowling, staring off at whatever was responsible for this interruption. "I must admit," he said, "I never expected you to come to their rescue."

Atlanta strained, pushing an unresponsive Jay to the side to get a better look. Facing down Chronus at the end of the hall, a stern if uncertain expression on her lovely face, stood the Goddess of Love and Beauty in all her splendor. The water on the floor seemed to have dried up around her feet, and the lockers fairly shone as if brand new. "Aphrodite?" Atlanta stared.

"The better half of my father," Chronus chuckled. "What are you doing here? Couldn't stand to see your heroes make more of a mess of themselves?" He took a few steps toward her.

The goddess flapped a hand dismissively at the two heroes. "No, no. Jay and Atlanta aren't mine." She pointed a finger accusingly at Chronus, the hint of a frown suggesting itself on her lips. "I want to know where Neil is and what you've done to him."

"Neil is exactly where he wants to be, I can assure you." The Titan smirked cruelly. "You shouldn't worry so much, dear Aphrodite. You'll get wrinkles."

Aphrodite didn't so much as blink at the threat to her complexion. Her hands flashed to her hips and she drew herself up a little straighter. "Where is Neil?" she asked again. "I don't want to get involved anymore than I have to."

Chronus waved his free hand in a grand gesture. "Of course not. It's simply not your forte. But I promise you, Neil is fine. Not a perfect hair on his head has been harmed." He motioned with his scythe. "If you insist on interrupting, however, I can't promise he'll stay that way."

Atlanta spun around as a cold, clammy hand grabbed her wrist. The shuffling Neils had shuddered back into motion, reaching for her and for Jay. She shook off the grasp and elbowed Jay. He made no indication of registering the blow, still staring dreamily at Aphrodite. With a roll of her eyes, the hunter decided to take matters into her own hands. Atlanta jerked the chair away from the statues and used it to scoop up the fearless, love struck leader. With a burst of speed, she charged down the hall toward the quarrelling gods.

The Titan whirled, lashing out with his weapon as they passed. Atlanta felt the whisper of its movement pass just behind her head before they had completely cleared him, racing for Aphrodite. The goddess calmly stepped aside to let them through.

"I'll hold him back for a while," she called sweetly, and then they were gone, on their way to another part of the empty school. Aphrodite made sure to block Chronus' path as he started after the two heroes. "You still haven't answered my question, Chronus."

"Aprhodite, my dear, what do you think you can possibly do to stop me?" he asked as a second scythe appeared in his hand. He started to advance on her but stopped when she raised her arms. "You're out of your league."

She made a smooth, sweeping motion with her arms. Chronus could feel the stir of some force being unleashed. "Love is powerful when it's used properly," she countered. "They won't stop until I reverse the enchantment."

"What are you talking –" he broke off, whirling around. The Neils wrinkled whatever parts of them could be called mouths into dopey smiles. Their arms reached out for him. Chronus turned back to Aphrodite, glaring at her. "Call them off," he warned.

"Not until I get what I want."

--

Archie tested his weight on the easel crutch that Odie had rigged for him. It managed to take most of the pressure off of his heel, leaving just a faint enough reminder that if he wasn't careful, it could hurt quite a bit. It throbbed every few minutes, too, just so he'd be on his toes. "This is one part about being related to Achilles I could do without," he grumbled. He hefted his whip in his free hand a little awkwardly.

"No one's perfect," Herry reminded him. "And it could always be worse."

Theresa gave Archie a reassuring smile. "You'll be all better in no time, once we get out of this mess." She jerked her head slightly in the direction of Pam, who was busy cleaning up. "But to do that, I think we need to get rid of those doubles she made of us. It's hard enough trying to keep our heads while we're fighting Neil, let alone having ourselves running around."

Odie hesitated. "But I made a promise to keep her out of things if she helped me escape." He pointed to his feet. "Which she did, by the way." Odie also held up his pendant key. "She even came up with the idea that would keep Chronus from figuring it out, and gave back my key while he was securing you."

"We won't be involving her," Theresa said. "Just those statues. If she really wants to be left alone, it shouldn't matter." She patted the thinker on the shoulder reassuringly. "Besides, I get the feeling she doesn't want to help Chronus any more than we want her to."

"If you say so," Odie said. "So what's the plan?"

Theresa considered. "Hit and run. Archie, you and Odie get moving, out into the hall first. Herry, you destroy those things and then take off after them. I'll cover the rear." She motioned for them to get started.

"Man," Archie huffed as he headed for the door, "I hate being left out." He kept a careful eye on the busy Neils as he reached for the knob. They appeared oblivious. Odie close behind, they stepped through and out into an empty hall. "Are we going anywhere in particular?"

The descendent of Odysseus considered. "That way," he said, pointing. "I think I have an idea that will get you back into the game, and get us out of here. We just need to pick up a few things, first."

"I like the sound of that." Archie led the way at his new pace, Odie trotting along beside him.

Back in the art room, Herry was slowly drifting nearer to the drying table where the statues sat, unattended. Theresa divided her attention between Pam, who seemed preoccupied with cleaning a sink, and the Neils, who were still going strong. The latter she tried to avoid, but their proximity to the exit meant she had to look that way, to make sure the way was clear. She nodded to Herry, signaling that he could go ahead whenever he had a clear shot.

As he raised a fist, Pam glanced at him with a sigh. "I wouldn't do that if I were you," she said, a hint reproachfully. "Not unless you want to make things worse."

"Worse how?" he asked. "Because I figure having clones running around, getting us into trouble, is about the worst thing that could happen right now, on top of everything else." At Pam's shrug, he swung, aiming to crush the three figures in one blow. But his fist was stopped before it could hit the table. "Huh?" Herry blinked, trying to clear his eyes.

Theresa, behind him, just about flung her hands into the air in frustration. "Oh, of course they'd have to come to life anyway. You couldn't just let us sneak away peacefully, could you?" She directed a glared at Pam.

"I warned him," the sculptor said. "And I didn't tell you to try destroying them, either." She shrugged.

Herry, meanwhile, struggled with himself. "Boy, you sure are authentic," he grunted, grappling against what seemed to be his own strength. "I'd compliment you if the situation was entirely different." Statue Herry smirked and heaved, sending the hero skidding backwards. "Theresa? Any ideas?"

"Water worked on the Neils," she said, casting a glance around the room for some. "But I don't think I'll be able to get any in time."

Statue Theresa, hands on her hips, sighed. "What ever happened to all those great visions you have? You'd think one would've popped up by now and tipped you off on something." She formed a set of nunchucks out of her substance, swinging them as effectively as if she were the real hero. "Oh well. I guess it just makes it easier for me."

Archie waited off to the side, idle. "Let me know if either of you two need some help. My agenda is wide open."

Pam simply watched as the heroes circled their doubles. "I guess it's true what they say," she mused. "Your own worst enemy is yourself, after all."

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As promised, here's a bit of exciting news:

From the authors of Night Comes Down and Skin Deep comes an epic of unbelievable proportions. If you thought you knew everything about the modern heroes of Class of the Titans, you were wrong. Discover Jay's startling secret, Theresa's hidden fetish, and much, much more. The very latest in eye-opening drama, this story promises to be one of the year's best fanfics. Coming soon to a website near you.