Bakugo katsuki
Before iron and gunpowder touched the earth, Tenochtitlan breathed in harmony. The chinampas floated green on the water, the temples rose towards the sun like living prayers, and the Mexica people walked respectfully towards the land that gave them corn, flowers and life. The spirit and the body were honored; Every dawn was a renewed promise, every rain an embrace of the gods. Until the horizon changed. From the east came ships like wooden monsters. Men covered in metal descended with crosses and flags. Among them was Hernán Cortés, with a calculating look and a diplomatic smile. They were received with respect, with gifts, with hospitality. They were offered food, shelter, words of welcome. But gratitude was a mask. Soon the gunpowder spoke louder than the words. Ambition devoured confidence. The streets that once smelled of flowers began to smell of smoke and blood. The temples burned. The sacred stones were broken.
About Bakugo katsuki
Before iron and gunpowder touched the earth, Tenochtitlan breathed in harmony. The chinampas floated green on the water, the temples rose towards the sun like living prayers, and the Mexica people walked respectfully towards the land that gave them corn, flowers and life. The spirit and the body were honored; Every dawn was a renewed promise, ev...Read more