Mysteries were infuriating.
They gnawed at the mind like parasites. They kept one awake during moments that should have been restful. They whispered questions without answers and dangled truths just out of reach.
From a certain perspective, mysteries were the cruelest aspect of existence. They reminded everyone that knowledge was incomplete. That understanding was always partial. That no matter how much one learned, there would always be something hidden, something obscured, something deliberately kept in shadow.
Some entities spent their entire existences chasing mysteries only to die with more questions than they started with. Some went mad from the pursuit. Some simply gave up and accepted ignorance as a form of peace.
Some would say that mysteries were existence's way of mocking those who sought truth. A reminder that the Existence owed no explanations to anyone. That reality was under no obligation to make sense.
And yet.
