Every excavation season at Gobekli Tepe was supposed to explain it. Instead, each one takes something away. Thirty years ago the answer was simple. The world's oldest temple, built by hunter-gatherers who came, worshipped, and left. Since then archaeologists have lost the village that was never there, lost the certainty that anyone buried it on purpose, and lost the idea that this hill was ever alone. Every answer removed gets replaced by a stranger question. And all of it, every claim and every textbook rewrite, rests on roughly five percent of the hill. Nobody has opened the other ninety-five percent.