Nearly… there… just a bit more… I need to just… get this bit.. No! Stupid sub-brain, hold that bit steady! GAH! Other sub-brain! What the hell are you doing over there?! Just hold it steady, dammit! Cursing at my own minds whilst my other minds grumble back at me is confusing enough, but the four separate brains manage to steady the ship once more and I worked frantically to slot the final pieces of the construct into place.

Once the last frame was put in place I nearly winced, expecting the thing to explode in my face, but to my surprise, it held together, suspended in my mind and maintained by my main sub-mind. Mind you, just holding the thing in place was exhausting to that mind. The damn construct was so complicated I don't think the one sub-mind could even operate it whilst holding it together.

Maintaining a construct isn't as easy as just holding a ball in your hand, after all. It's more like keeping the molecular structure of the ball in mind at all times, as if it were your will that held it together, rather than physics. Which is exactly what's happening here. The construct will only hold together so long as I actively hold its shape. Without that conscious effort, it would dissolve like snow in an oven.

But FINALLY! It's complete! It took so much practice I thought I was going to go mad, but it's finally in place! This thing has been such a pain in the thorax to put together, it better live up to the effort that I put into it! Lousy magic. Why can't I just wave my antennae around and clack my mandibles a few times, eh?

Not wanting to push too hard, I get one of the smaller sub-minds to carefully feed a little mana into the construct. Ever so slowly, the mana seeps out of my core and is then directed into the all-purpose opening. Once the mana is inside, things get a little more interesting. Since the unattributed mana can take any of a dozen paths throughout the structure, it takes fine control to navigate the desired route and produce the element I want.

My sub-mind strains hard to maintain such a delicate grip on the energy but eventually the construct rotates and spits out a tiny amount of fire mana. Enough to heat a sausage. It's pathetic, and not nearly as much mana as I can produce from the fire construct with half the effort. Even so, I'm still happy with the result.

This represents progress! With more practice, I'll be able to form the construct without having to commit all of my minds to it, then I'll be able to operate without so much effort. Like any instrument, only diligent practice will allow me to operate the construct without having to consciously think about every little piece of it. Eventually, I'll be able to spit out as much of whatever type of mana I want.

Since I have the construct up and running, I decide to continue practicing with it, directing my two smaller sub-minds to operate it whilst I go about my business. Even with the constant regeneration provided by the Colony within range of the Vestibule, I won't be able to maintain this level of effort continuously, but I should be able to hold onto it for a few hours.

[Have you succeeded, Master?] Crinis asks.

[I have! Finally!] It's hard to keep the pride from leaking into my tone.

[Congratulations, Master! I expected it would only be a matter of time.]

[Why thanks, Crinis. I appreciate the vote of confidence! How goes your own magic practice?]

[I continue to focus solely on shadow magic. I have been able to make progress, but it's been slow.]

[Don't forget to work on your mind mana,] I remind her, [with enough brain power, you'll be able to make use of the mind constructs. Once you can do that, your training speed in other areas will multiply.]

[Of course, Master. I'll rededicate myself.]

No-no, I think you're plenty dedicated… rather, don't you dare get any more dedicated than you are now!

My pets and I are huddled in a side tunnel, getting some mandated rest whilst the scouts are out with the core shapers, trying to get a sense of the Legion's next move. Not far away, a steady stream of wounded continue to be taken from the forward field hospital to a more robust setup closer to the nest. Healers skitter about, anxiously tending to the much larger castes in their care. Since the healers are too small, it generally falls to soldiers to grip their injured siblings in their mandibles and carry them with care whilst the healers run alongside, ensuring they remain stabilised.

Those with minor injuries will heal themselves at the front with regenerative fluid and Biomass. Those injuries would heal in a few hours on their own. The more seriously injured, those with missing legs or large chunks of carapace sheared away, will likely take days to be combat ready again.

As I'd warned, the fighting had grown brutal once the Colony had made the decision to challenge the Legion. A flood of reinforcements had arrived from the nest shortly after Sloan had returned, sent to help us brace the line. Even with our vastly superior numbers, it was just way too difficult to bring the armoured tin-cans down. My pets and I were able to help sway the fight tremendously wherever we were, but we just couldn't be on every battlefield at once.

Thank goodness I never ran into the axe wielding demon again. I was quite happy when the others adopted my suggestion to just abandon whatever field he turned up to. We'd have to face him down eventually, but until we were forced to, putting ants in front of him was just throwing away the lives of our family. Unacceptable!

"Working hard, Eldest?"

"You've had enough rest haven't you?"

"If you don't hurry, we won't leave any fighting for you to do!"

The passing ants, even the injured ones, call out to me as they go, their spirits undaunted by the challenge before them. I give a wave back with an antenna as I watch them go, their voices whispering within the Vestibule. If anything, the mood of the Colony has only been rising the harder the fight has gotten. Giving away territory without fighting over it had gone against the ant nature of my family and now that they were permitted to, they leapt into the battle with joy and ferocity.

[Fight?] Tiny rumbled, as if sensing my thoughts.

I'm about to tell him to sit on his big hairy butt and wait when I spot a general rushing through the tunnels turn towards us.

[Seems so,] I tell him, [rest time is over.]

A massive grin splits the face of the ape, his eyes darkening to a deep shade of red as the anger kindles in his heart.