First? I think I have 100 reviews for this story. I am amazed and overwhelmed and incredibly HAPPY. Thank you everyone! I'm glad my story has inspired such a response. You make me giggle.

In response to Lost Experiment's question: Yes, I took Chemistry all through high school. We made esters in one lab and had lots of fun smelling each other's test tubes. However, we weren't allowed to make anything with butyric acid because of the smell, but the teacher relented in the face of a LOT of whining. She agreed to make pineapple and bring it around for us to sniff. Under a minute after she cracked the bottle, the entire room smelt like vomit. We were quick to make a slew of cherry and wintergreen in an attempt to drown out the smell. It didn't work. Incidentally, methanol smells like cough syrup.

Jay took some liberties in his experiment and cut a few corners. I'm also exercising a bit of creative license. However, the carboxylic acid (such as butyric) does smell worse when heated. Esters, coincidentally, smell strongest when cooled. Chemistry's funny that way.

Disclaimer: I don't own Class of the Titans. If I did, the heroes' school lives would be explored a little more in depth than simply when it coincides with a mythological event. I want to know if one of them is particularly good at a subject, say Social Studies (or History if you prefer). I imagine Archie might do well in English.

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As They Say

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"This is the last one," Odie said, staring at the door knob. They had tried two others only to find them locked and the pounding outside the Physics room had suddenly stopped. Neither hero wanted to discover why. The thinker reached out and grasped the knob and twisted. It turned smoothly in his hand and the door swung silently open. They breathed a twin sigh of relief.

Archie took a brief glance around the room – desks, blackboard, cupboards – and immediately noticed that things were out of place. "Someone was in here," he said, gesturing to a cluster of equipment on a lab bench. The warrior eased himself into the nearest chair as Odie went to have a closer look. The fire extinguisher rested on the ground next to his feet. "Do you think everyone's been copied?" he asked suddenly. "I mean, so far the only ones who haven't are Jay and Atlanta, but who's to say their clones aren't out there running around somewhere?"

Odie shook his head. "To be honest, I don't know." He lifted a bottle and read the label. "But we'll have to put our trust in someone when we meet up again, and I'd like to think that person is real."

"How do we know, though? Neil had us fooled, you had us fooled, Odie. Your copy, I mean." Archie sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "I suppose we could always spray everyone with water and hope that does something."

The thinker nodded absently, checking other areas around the room. He finally poked his head out into the hall to look for some clue as to who they had just missed. Something else caught his eye. "Hey, I think your mobility problem might be solved." Odie waved Archie over. "Someone left a computer chair out here."

Archie frowned but stood and hobbled over all the same, dragging their only defense. He paused at the door, eyes drifting to the chair even as something else caught his attention. "Do you smell something?" he asked.

"Unfortunately, yes," Odie said, pushing the chair over.

"Which way do you think it's coming from?" The warrior dropped into the seat with little grace. He hefted the extinguisher onto his lap and held it loosely. "Maybe we'll find the others at the source."

--

Any other time, Neil might have questioned his actions, possibly considered something a little more demure. As he ran down the dark street, however, wearing nothing but his underwear, the hero's head was full of other concerns than the stares he was gathering from other pedestrians and the motorists passing him by. The slapping sound of his bare feet on concrete formed an odd rhythm for his thoughts to follow.

Wrong, wrong, wrong. His thoughts took on the voices of everyone who had ever told him he spent too much time in front of a mirror. It didn't work in the past, so why would it work now?

The dark shadow of the school loomed a head of him. Neil barely registered it. He kept running, pushing through the doors with only the slightest wonder as to why they were unlocked. The model slowed to a jog as he entered the maze of hallways. Something in the air reminded him of the smell of sex and he stopped completely. His rational mind caught up with him then, and he wondered what exactly he was supposed to do to help fix the mess he was responsible for.

What may have been a twist of luck solved part of his problem for him. As he crept near silently down a hall picked at random, a sound other than his own shuffling feet caught his attention. Throwing his usual sense of caution to the wind, Neil decided that whoever it was would probably lead him to his friends. He stopped and cupped his hands over his mouth.

"Hey!" he shouted. "I'm over here!" His previous experience acting as distraction in other scenarios served to add a slightly alluring tremor to his voice. Any minion of Chronus, Neil was certain, would be unable to resist the sound of a dapper in distress.

The response was unexpected. Archie appeared at the end of hall, a slightly bemused expression on his face. "Neil?" he asked. "Is it really you?"

For a moment, Neil was back to himself. "Of course it's me," he said. And then he caught himself, the bizarre reality of what Archie and the others must have faced catching up with him. Neil refused to think about his own situation.

Archie frowned, digging his hands deep into his pockets. "Prove it," he said.

Neil drew himself up as proudly as he could. "Fine," he agreed. His shoulders drooped slightly as he realized he had no way to do so. His clothes were still back there along with anything that might validate his claim. "How?" he asked finally.

"Tell me something only you would know. Something from a previous battle or whatever." The warrior shrugged, looking uncomfortable.

"Something only I would know?" The descendent of Narcissus considered. You know first hand not to fall in love with yourself, his mind whispered. Feeling suddenly exposed, Neil wrapped his arms around himself. "Well," he said with false cheer, "I know that Atlanta probably made out with D.J. Panic before you got involved." He hoped his grin looked confident, and that the warrior wouldn't decide to kill him on the spot.

Archie's expression didn't change. "I guess you are the real deal." In one fluid motion, he pulled out his hands. The Hephaestus whip cracked. "Too bad."

--

Jay felt his bandana being ripped away and he took a shuddering breath. The expected smell reached him, but it was far outweighed by the clinging smell of wet clay; clay that pressed down on him heavily. Even as he filled his lungs, choking down a swell of nausea, the weight and tearing fingers of the Neils pulling at him emptied them again. Jay felt as if he was drowning, a surreal sensation for the pro sailor.

His mind racing, Jay tried to drag himself free. His fingers slid along the floor finding no purchase. Theresa's voice, shouting at him, seemed distant. For once, Jay had no idea what to do. He struggled just to keep his mouth clear, to keep breathing as little as he was capable. Misshapen mouths chuckled in his ear.

"How does it feel, Jay?" Chronus asked. "Hopeless? Frightening?" The Titan coughed slightly as he caught another whiff of himself. Scowling, he waved a hand and changed his suit. The smell still lingered, but it was significantly less. The heroes breathed a little easier.

The sharp sound of static caught the deity's attention. He turned to find Theresa fumbling at her belt, snatching up the PMR distractedly. "Probably Archie or Odie," she muttered to herself, fingers shaking just enough to make answering difficult. Her eyes kept flicking to Jay and the things on him. Finally, a face appeared on the screen. She stared at it. "Neil?"

"Hey." His voice was distorted and quiet, but everyone seemed to hold their breath to listen. Even Chronus was silent, his face twisted in a smug grin that seemed to say the model's appearance was too little, too late. Only the Neils and Jay made any noise, a squelching, gasping sort of sound. "How's it going?"

"Where are you? What happened?" Theresa's mind was caught in a flurry of questions and emotions. She wanted to make sure he was the real one, but the fact that he had a PMR seemed to suggest he had to be.

Neil ran a hand through his hair, which, the fighter suddenly noticed, was out of place. "I'm near the cafeteria, I think. I just got out." His face suddenly scrunched up into a frown. "I told you there were robot clones after me!" he said, a touch on the shrill side.

"We're in front of the gym," she said quickly, ignoring his tendency for theatrics. "Jay's in trouble. Keep an eye out for Odie and Archie, too." Worry for the pair was starting to build in the back of her mind, but as Theresa glanced up to see Jay reaching – seemingly toward her – it was pushed away.

"Oh, hey, before I forget. Pamela Ian, a girl in my art class, she's behind all of this. Pig-something or other." He paused, considering. "Yeah. Does that help?"

Theresa nodded faintly. "We know. She's here with us. Chronus has her brother." The Titan smiled at her words, but it was strangely smug. She wondered what was going through his mind…

"What?" Neil's voice broke into her thoughts. He sounded panicked. "That's not possible. Her brother's at a friend's house, Theresa. I was at her house." The model suppressed a shiver at what must have been an unpleasant memory. "She's lying to you."

Herry, surprised, turned to the artist. "Is this true?" he asked.

"And it all comes out." Chronus spread his hands placidly, his scythe between the heroes and their leader. "As they say, all good things must come to an end."

Pam stared wide-eyed at the Titan. "What are you saying?" She seemed to pale as she backed toward the gym entrance, one hand drifting up to point at him, accusing. "I made a deal with you. You swore you'd… You swore. And Galen…"

Chronus chuckled. "Yes, well, we all lie sometimes." He shrugged almost sympathetically. "I only needed your talent and I got it the easiest way I possibly could. And as for your great masterpiece? Well, he's mine now." His smile was cruel.

The artist said nothing, stunned. Then, as if a switch had been pulled, he turned to Herry. "You're the strong one," she said. "Throw me over. I'll save your friend." Tears slid down her cheeks but her voice was hard. "I'm done being used."

Herry could only nod. He hunched with his hands cupped in front of him, a familiar stance he'd become accustomed to when fighting along side Theresa. The fighter watched as Pam ran toward him and then turned herself, focusing solely, intently, on Chronus. As she heard Herry's grunt, Theresa rushed the Titan, aiming a hard kick directly at his smug face. As he was forced to defend himself, Pam sailed over him. She landed hard on the other side.

"Take a deep breath," the artist instructed, reaching out and grabbing onto the slick arm of one of the Neils. "Hold it as long as you can." Pam herself inhaled deeply and her eyes slid shut in concentration. When she let go, the Neils no longer moved. They were just soggy, inanimate statues.

Jay, buried beneath them, struggled to free himself. Pam quickly started digging, scooping clay away from his face and shoulders. Chronus watched impassively, waiting until the leader was sprawled on the floor, panting. Then he spoke.

"As always, you've managed to free yourself." The Titan glanced back at Theresa. "And by the sound of things, Neil has escaped my trap and is on his way here. Soon, I'm sure you'll fit the prophecy and I'll have to leave." Chronus vanished his scythe, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "Or that's how it seems. Are you sure your team are who they appear to be?" he asked. "Would you stake your life on it?"

Jay stared hard at Chronus. "Yes," he said. "I'm sure."

There was a shout from behind him. "Jay!" The leader turned and locked eyes with Theresa.

Chronus laughed. "And how about now?"

--

Odie wheeled Archie in what he hoped was the direction the smell was coming from. He guessed that one of the others had taken part of the warrior's strategy to heart and tried to reenact it, hopefully with some success. They traveled in silence, the thinker wracking his mind for ideas that would get them out of the school and the warrior wondering if the fire extinguisher had enough foam to take out the rest of the Neils.

When one ran by, shrieking, pursued by Archie… They barely shared a glance before Odie strained against the swivel chair, hoping it would be easy to maneuver around corners, once he got the momentum up.

"Neil!" Archie shouted, one hand locked on the armrest of the chair, the other white around the nozzle of the extinguisher. "Stop running!"

The blonde shot a look over his shoulder. "No," he shouted back. "I don't want to be whipped by two of you."

"Look at his back," Odie panted. He already felt winded.

Sure enough, Archie could make out an angry red line on Neil's bare back. He frowned and relinquished his hold on the chair. "Get me closer, Odie. As close as you can."

The descendent of Odysseus groaned but pushed himself, pulling on reserves he didn't even know he had. They gained on the running pair ahead of them, if only a little. Archie aimed the extinguisher, silently hoping Neil's luck would help him out – a fact he would never admit later. The warrior jammed his finger on the trigger and, with a hiss, a shower of foam flew out in front of him. In what seemed a scene out of a dream, he watched himself run a few more paces before sagging and finally collapsing in on himself with a wet gurgle. Odie quickly pulled up and Neil came to a halt.

"Are you really you?" the blonde asked warily.

"We could ask you the same thing." Odie eye Neil warily, still remembering the art room. He had reasoned that that Neil was probably just a copy, but there was still a nagging doubt. The fact that this Neil was only wearing boxers meant little, too. After witnessing the orgy… Odie was fairly certain that boxers weren't the strangest thing he could be seeing.

The descendent of Narcissus simply turned away from them, his shoulders dropped in defeat. "Never mind," he said. "I'll find the others myself." He started down the hall.

Archie was about to suggest going after him when his PMR suddenly came to life. "Archie? Odie? It's Neil." The warrior quickly pulled the device out of his pocket and stared hard at the screen. The blonde looked back at him.

"Who do we trust?" Archie asked his fellow hero.

Odie looked between his own PMR and the Neil quickly disappearing down the hall. "The real one," he answered.