A researcher had been extremely curious and wanted to know why humans were, well, the way they were. They poured over notes, histories, field reports, everything they could get their hands on. The humans that volunteered for experiments were always told "You can call it quits at any time." And, after a while, the humans always let him know when they'd had enough. To which he'd thank them, pay them and let them know his immense gratitude for their hard work, and go through the notes of his findings, sharing with them, of course, everything he had.
But it was never enough.
Finally, he decided to take a big gamble and live on Earth for a while to find out just WHY humans were the way they were. He was only able to talk about his time there after years of therapy, and a companion at his side to help him get through the flashbacks. -- Anon Guest
"You woke up screaming again. What was it this time? The exoskeletal ones?"
"Yeah. The tiny ones. Beetles. Spiders. The ones those Deathworlders call 'bugs'. Too many of them everywhere. Crawling all over everything. Leaving those... little dots. Everywhere. They were all over me. Scritchy scratchy little claw feet, all over my skin."
"Was this a thing that happened? The insects everywhere?"
"Once. Yes. They called it... a locust swarm. I know they're edible, but... they blotted out the sun. There were too many of them. And then... they started... they were..."