The Magic Ant Factory

Zapper knew where the factory was that was marked on the map. After a week of travel on horse back Zapper stopped at a cave and they tied the house to a tree line tether they quickly made. Then they set up camp just inside the cave’s entrance in a large open room.

After that zapper went to the back part of the cavern there the way through was bared. Zapper sent six ants to open the gate and about half an hour later the gate opened.

Zapper lead me to the control room where there were a bunch of levers and buttons on a panel that overlooked the ant production floor. Several stations sat dormant. When the first lever was pulled on it would not move. The gauntlet gives me the impression of no fresh water. The use of the gauntlet showed it was a part of the factory such that it would tell what was happening in the factory.

Zapper frowned, his fingers tapping against the unyielding lever. “No fresh water,” he muttered, glancing at me. “That means the fuel cells are dry. Without them, the factory can’t generate power, and the ants won’t run.”

I stepped closer to the control panel, running my hand along its dust-covered surface. “So we need to restore the water flow before anything works?”

Zapper nodded. “Exactly. The factory relies on a steady supply of pure water to separate into hydrogen and oxygen. Without it, the magic in the fuel cells weakens, and everything grinds to a halt.” He gestured to the dormant stations below. “Some of these look like they haven’t run in decades. Maybe longer.”

I glanced at the gauntlet, feeling the faint pulse of its connection to the machinery. The ant map still glowed, but its trails were dim, as if the factory’s stagnation had dulled its purpose.

“If this place was operational once,” I said, “then there must be a water source nearby. What do the maps say?”

Zapper pulled out a scroll and unrolled it on a dusty worktable. The markings were faded, but the symbols were unmistakable—an intricate network of conduits, reservoirs, and what looked like filtration stations.

“There,” he pointed to a small mark just outside the cavern. “This was the original intake. If it’s blocked or dried up, we’ll have to figure out a way to restore it.”

I exhaled sharply, already anticipating the worst. “And if the problem isn’t just a blockage?”

Zapper gave me a knowing look. “Then we find another water source before the factory crumbles into useless scrap.”

With that, we gathered our gear and prepared to trace the lifeline of the ancient factory. Somewhere beyond the cavern walls, the key to reawakening the ant-forged supply line was waiting—but whether it was still salvageable remained to be seen.

It took a couple of hours to find the problem. The mountain stream had been dammed by large beavers in a series of dams that a huge amount water was held back.

Chance studied the problem carefully, watching the beavers move through their constructed waterways. The dams weren’t just holding back water; they had redirected its course entirely. If he destroyed even one dam too quickly, the sudden release would surge down the dry intake and likely wash it away, making things worse. But if he did nothing, the magical supply line would remain inactive.

He needed a controlled release. Maybe he could coax the beavers to modify their dam on their own, or find a way to divert the water without destruction. Looking around, he spotted several thick branches and loose stones.

Perhaps a smaller, temporary diversion could refill the intake slowly. But the beavers… would they interfere? He needed a plan that wouldn’t turn the creatures against him.

Zapper used his magic to talk with the beavers. He found that they had a series of animals that prayed on them. If a guardian could be provided then they would allow water to flow to the intake.

Zapper relayed the beavers’ concerns to Chance. Wolves, coyotes, and even the occasional mountain lion had been harassing them, forcing them to build larger, more fortified dams to stay safe. If they had a guardian to keep these predators at bay, they’d be willing to adjust their dams and allow water to flow back to the intake.

Chance considered the offer. A golem was a solid solution, but it had to be something sustainable—not just a temporary fix.

Zapper, eager to try, gathered mud, wood, and stones from the riverbank. With a few flickers of his magic, the materials began to twist and bind together, forming a rough but sturdy Wood and Stone Golem, shaped like a towering, broad-shouldered figure. Its eyes glowed faintly with magical energy, and it stood motionless, waiting for instructions.

“Alright,” Chance said, stepping forward. “The golem needs to understand its job. We don’t want it scaring the beavers—or making things worse.”

Zapper nodded and worked his magic again, imbuing the golem with a simple directives. First, Defend the beavers from predators. Second, Remain near the dams unless called upon. Third, Never harm the beavers or disrupt the water flow.

The beavers chittered excitedly, testing the golem’s presence. It didn’t react to them at all, but when Zapper imitated the growl of a wolf, the golem shifted into a defensive stance, ready to protect its new charges.

Satisfied, the beavers began to break apart part of their dam, slowly letting water trickle down toward the intake. Chance watched as the magic supply line stirred back to life, the first signs of flow returning.

“Looks like we have a deal,” he said, watching the golem settle into position.

The question now was—how long would the golem last? Would it require maintenance, or was it bound permanently? And if a greater threat emerged, would it be enough?

Chance and Zapper went back to the control room. The first lever moved down into a new position. The second lever would not move there was no Mithral was the message from the gauntlet this time. The mine was marked on the map a days hike away.

When they got to the mine, its output bins were full ant bodies waiting to be moved to the factory. The doorway between the factory and this mine had disconnected. Zapper threw a dimension door spell and the bins were transferred to the factory. We stepped though to the factory went to the control room. When the first bin filled with ant bodies made of Mithral the second lever moved to a lower position.

Chance watched as the second lever settled into place with a satisfying click. The gauntlet pulsed faintly, confirming that the system had restored another section of the magical supply line.

“So, that’s two down,” Chance muttered. He glanced at the remaining levers. “How many more before this thing runs at full capacity?”

Zapper studied the controls, his fingers tracing the ancient symbols. “Looks like at least two more,” he said. “But the next one isn’t giving an error message—it’s just… stuck.”

Chance frowned. “Meaning?”

“Meaning something’s wrong, but it’s not a missing resource. Could be physical damage, magical interference… or something we don’t want to deal with.”

The map on the control panel updated, revealing a location deep beneath the mountain—a maintenance hub buried in collapsed tunnels.

Chance sighed. “Guess we’re doing some digging.”

Zapper grinned, cracking his knuckles. “Or some creative problem-solving.”

The path to the third station was blocked by solid rock and a massive cave-in. Heavy stone and loose dirt filled the passage, and clearing it wouldn’t be enough—it would also need reinforcing to prevent another collapse.

Chance looked around the cramped space. “Okay, Zapper. Even if we clear this, where do we put all the rock and dirt? There’s not enough room. We have to move it out of the factory.”

Zapper smirked. “Well, Chance, watch this.”

With a flick of his wrist, he conjured a magical chisel, its edge shimmering with arcane energy. He pressed it against a boulder, and with a few precise strokes, the stone began to reshape itself, forming into a rough but powerful stone statue. With a final spark of magic, the statue came to life, stretching its heavy arms.

Without hesitation, the animated statue grabbed a chunk of rock and began hauling debris out of the mine.

Chance raised an eyebrow. “That’s one way to do it.”

Zapper dusted off his hands. “Give me a few more minutes, and we’ll have a whole work crew.”

Back in the control room, we watched the animated golems work. It would take hours—maybe even a full day—to clear the collapsed tunnel and reach the control hub. There was no rushing it.

Turning our attention to the next lever, I signaled the gauntlet. This time, the message was clear: “Gem bin empty.”

Zapper checked the map. “Looks like the diamond mine is the issue,” he said. “Two days’ ride from here.”

With nothing else to do but wait for the golems, we set out.

When we arrived, it was a mess. One of the massive bins, normally filled with cut and finished gems, had collapsed, spilling thousands of diamonds across the floor. The entire system was jammed, gears locked up, conveyor belts stalled, and the rail track leading through the mountain was blocked.

“This explains a lot,” I muttered, surveying the glittering disaster.

It took us a full day just to pick up the diamonds, clear out the machinery, and get the bin back in working order. By the time the last gem was returned to its container, the system lurched back to life, and the bins started rolling down the rail track toward the factory.

Zapper dusted off his hands. “Alright, that’s another problem solved. Now let’s hope the control room reflects that.”

When we got back to the control room, two more levers had shifted into place. Only one remained.

I checked the gauntlet. This time, the message was more troubling: “Gold supply depleted.”

I sighed. “Okay, Zapper, where do we get a gold mine?”

Zapper frowned. “I have no idea. How much does a gold mine even cost?”

“A lot of gold, I’m sure…” I trailed off, then a thought hit me. “Wait—we don’t need a whole mine. What if we just use gold coins?”

Zapper blinked, then grinned. “Now that sounds like an experiment worth trying.”

Zapper dumped all the gold coins we had into the gold bin. The factory absorbed them, breaking them down and reforming the material into thin, delicate feelers—the beginnings of new ants. But it wasn’t much.

I watched as a handful of golden antennae twitched to life, then slumped motionless.

“That’s… not an army,” I said.

Zapper frowned. “No. We need a lot more gold.”

I crossed my arms. “Well, unless you’ve got a secret treasure hoard somewhere around here, we’re going to have to find another way.”

“Well Chance I have plenty of gold back in Xy we will have to go back and get all gold we can carry and bring it back here.”

“Move that much gold to the wilderness and every evil dark lord will take notice. What do we do to protect it. For that matter if they knew how many diamonds we have their mouths would water. What pain your ants are.”

The Journey Begins

Zapper stood beside the wagon, rolling a gold coin across his knuckles. The moonlight caught its edge, making it gleam before he flicked it back into the pile.

“This much gold,” he muttered, “and we have to make it look like nothing.”

I tightened the straps on my pack and glanced at the road ahead. “Better than making it look like a fortune. Every cutthroat from here to Xy would love to take a shot at us.”

Zapper grinned. “Good thing I don’t plan on making it look like anything at all.”

With a flick of his wrist and a murmured spell, the gold shimmered, twisting and darkening into dull iron ore. The piles lost their luster, turning into rough, jagged chunks, indistinguishable from common mining stock.

I tapped the edge of the wagon. “Looks good, but what if someone tries to buy some?”

“Then we say it’s cursed,” Zapper said, climbing up onto the driver’s seat. “Ain’t nobody buying cursed iron.”

With that, we set off.