Common Mortal

When you accept the flowers from the young man, his antennae twitch slowly, sending subtle electromagnetic waves to your sensors that convey how much he doesn't want to let go. The humble Hymenoptera residents still see you as their friend, even though they can hardly accept someone without compound eyes as one of them. They bring you along as they go back and forth between the honey fields and their nests. In your book, they are described as a group even more savage and despicable than the Annihilation Gang.

You can't help wondering what constitutes truth. Pride and prejudice have seeped into knowledge, forming a "perfect" model of the universe, so much so that it diminishes the value of knowledge, turning it into a mere illusion anyone can tamper with.

You know you are lost, but there is no way to find your bearings. Whenever you think the next planet can offer you the answer, it only leaves you more confused than ever.