In this south Texas clearing, an ancient tale of four species intertwined is unfolding. At the center of the story is the soon-to-be queen leafcutter ant, who scoops a piece of fungus into her mouth pocket. Accompanying her are tiny cockroaches, which nestle under her wings. As she takes to the sky in a flapping-wing frenzy, she stores as much sperm as she can from the males she meets in midair. Upon returning to the ground, she sheds her wings and digs a tunnel and side chamber, sealing herself in. Here, she regurgitates the fungus, forming the bedrock of her kingdom. Over the following weeks, she lays eggs and tends to her developing fungal garden, fertilizing it with feces. Her first offspring emerge and establish a rhythm, with soldiers guarding the nest and foragers setting off to find tender foliage. The foragers, equipped with powerful mandibles, anchor themselves on leaves and chomp away in wide arcs, carrying pieces that can weigh more than eight times their body mass back to the nest. The colony’s smallest ants clean the leaf fragments of debris and pathogens, but the colony does not consume them. Instead, they use them to sustain the fungus, which sustains the colony. This mutualistic relationship between ant and fungus is estimated to have started more than 10 million years ago. In addition to the leafcutter ants, tiny cockroaches take advantage of the fungal gardens, hitch rides on soon-to-be queens, and feed off the fungus. The fourth character in this tale is a parasitic micro-fungus called Escovopsis, which threatens to destroy the fungal gardens and all that depend on them. To combat this, the leafcutters rigorously weed out Escovopsis and partner up with different microorganisms to stunt its growth. Eventually, the leafcutter colony covers several meters of underground tunnels, comprises millions of workers, and can defoliate a tree in a single night. Each spring, some of the queen’s offspring leave, taking a piece of home with them and preparing to fly off and mate, beginning the cycle anew.