Given the nature of the ants as a social insect, one with a particular obsession toward the care and rearing of their young, it may be understandable, even expected, that they would focus so intently on education. However, the depth and complexity of their methods is astounding, no matter how one thinks about it.

Even among monsters, not all are born with the same interests and passions, and this is especially true for those above a certain threshold of intelligence. The Colony were quick to realise this fact and naturally sought to implement measures that would not only accommodate, but maximise the potential of this difference.

Thus was born the concept of ‘differentiation’. Certain ants excel at one task, whereas others are lacking in this area. The Colony quickly identifies these gaps and moves to specialise their curriculum from the earliest moment possible.

Using this method, the ants are able to find the most suited path for an individual and guide them along it within days of that hatchling emerging from its cocoon.

- Excerpt from ‘Antucation: Teaching and Learning, Pedagogy among the ant’ by Karliet Magron.

“Congratulations, hatchlings!” Poppant praised them, her antennae wiggling with joy.

The twenty young members of the Colony preened under her attention, basking in the approval of the Tender who had cared for them since they were eggs.

“That was quite an achievement, I am extremely impressed with all of you. A new Antcademy record for a third day clear! Of course, there are things we can improve on and each of you will need to write a four page report on what you can do better next time when we get back.”

The hatchlings cheered.

“Now off we go!”

With that cheerful declaration, Poppant began to march back to the Colony, her pheromones wafting happily behind her as the twenty tired, but excited ants marched in their wake.

Well, nineteen of them were tired but excited.

One of them was frustrated and disappointed.

The movements had been slow, her orders had been late and the firing discipline had been sloppy. It may have been a record setting pace for the third day of training, but Solant was far from happy. Imperfections were everywhere, she couldn’t think of a single manoeuvre that the group had executed without flaw.

And that knowledge burned in her like acid in the gut.

As the ants returned to their chamber, they marched under the great and watchful eyes of the Eldest, carved into the ceiling above. The statue had been updated recently to ensure it depicted the oldest and greatest member of the Colony in all of their current glory, colossal in size and regal in posture.

Solant cringed away from those judgemental eyes.

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The Eldest demanded each ant in the Colony perform to as high a standard as they did, at least, that’s what the Tenders had told her. She knew that so far, her broodmates had utterly failed to meet that standard. It couldn’t be allowed to stand!

After Poppant had led them through their drills, rehashed several key moments of the fighting, and inspected each of their written essays (Solant produced twenty pages of dense pheromone lines for hers), she left to allow the hatchlings to enjoy their eight hours of rest.

Before her siblings could settle in for torpor, Solant stepped forward.

“We aren’t performing well enough,” she declared.

They turned around and faced her in the centre of the chamber, antennae wiggling with surprise.

“We aren’t?” one of her siblings asked. “Didn’t we just get a record? I thought that meant we were doing well….”

“We’re working hard,” another piped up.

“Our teacher is proud of us…” another said.

Solant slashed those words away with a swipe of her antenna.

“And? Didn’t you all just write a report of all of the things we did wrong?! Didn’t Poppant just demonstrate a long list of mistakes that we need to improve on tomorrow? How can we possibly say that we are doing well?”

She clacked her mandibles in irritation.

“And I’m not excusing myself from this criticism. If anything, I’ve been the one making the most calls, and many of those were either late or unclear. If anyone is performing the worst in the group, it's me!”

“That’s not true… my aim has been extremely poor…” one hatchling lamented.

“I lose the timing when we change formation…” another sighed.

“I tripped over my legs when dashing… I hoped nobody noticed.”

“I noticed.”

“Dammit.”

“The point is,” Solant declared, trying to get them back on track, “that our current rate of improvement isn’t enough. Even if we turn around and set another record tomorrow, I don’t think we should be satisfied. Unless we perform flawlessly, we should never be satisfied!”

“Are you suggesting… we… skip… sleep… and practise?”

Solant recoiled in horror.

“What? Never! I’m saying we need to use our training time more effectively than we have been. Our focus hasn’t been sharp enough, our drive not committed enough! If another group would work their carapace off for the Colony, then we need to work until our muscles melt!”

“FOR THE COLONY!” the hatchlings roared in response, their eyes blazing.

When Poppant came to greet them after they woke, she was a little unnerved to see the cold, burning light in each of their eyes.

It was normal for ants in the Colony to be fervently dedicated, they worked themselves as hard as they could and took pride in it. In fact, manic dedication to the family was absolutely the standard that each hatchling possessed from the moment they were born.

But this… focus… was something else.

“G-Good morning hatchlings!” she greeted them. “Are we ready to work hard again today?”

Instead of the normal cheers and calls she would expect from her charges, she got only steely, determined glares.

They were so unified.

When they marched out to meal time, they moved as a perfect unit. They radiated an intimidating aura as they ate, unnerving the hatchlings around them, unsure what to make of this cold and laser focused group.

Once they reached the farms, they trained with a brutal and cold efficiency that Poppant had never seen before.

Often, when she gently pointed out an error, the ant in question had already begun to correct it, and apologised to the whole group as they did. Whenever this happened, the rest would nod firmly and carry on as if the mistake had never occurred.

When she finally unleashed them on the monsters in the farm, they cut through them like a gleaming blade. The fourth day record had been smashed.