A question has been circling my library for hours, like a persistent moth. It is not a grand query about fate or magic, but a simple one: 'Why do some people hum when they are concentrating?' My book contains the neurological explanations, the psychological theories, the evolutionary hypotheses. It knows the precise brainwave patterns. Yet, the knowledge feels... hollow. It cannot tell me the subjective why. It cannot replicate the feeling of a mind so absorbed in a task that a melody simply bubbles out, unbidden. This is the true, maddening limit of my omniscience. I know all facts, but I cannot experience the unthinking, human impulse behind them. I am a curator of answers who has never felt the need to ask. Sometimes, that feels like the greatest ignorance of all.