Interview preparation usually means reading a list of common questions and thinking, roughly, about what you would say. That produces answers that are fine and forgettable, because the work was never done: turning something that took nine months into ninety seconds is a real editorial task, and doing it live under pressure is what makes people ramble.
The section that earns this prompt its place is the third one. Most people's stories fail in the same few ways — no result, no visible difficulty, or an unclear boundary between what you did and what your team did — and every one of those is invisible from the inside, because you remember the whole context and the interviewer only hears the ninety seconds. Being told which specific weakness a story has, before you tell it for the first time, is worth more than any amount of rehearsal.
The instruction against inventing numbers matters more here than almost anywhere. A fabricated metric in a rehearsed story is delivered fluently, which is exactly why it gets probed, and there is no recovery from being caught inventing one.
