Spain sold you monsters. They burned the books, rewrote the words, and left the Mexicas looking like blood‑drunk demons. But the receipts are back. Tenochtitlán wasn’t chaos—it was a metropolis cleaner than Europe, with schools for every kid, judges holding nobles accountable, and scribes painting cosmic philosophy in living color. Human sacrifice? Not sadism, but a sacred debt to keep the sun alive. The conquest wasn’t destiny—it was germs and propaganda. Five centuries later, the Mexica voice is breaking through the ash, and history’s biggest cover‑up is finally getting exposed.
