My father was dedicated to the study of the ancient Mayan civilization. He believed that thanks to his knowledge, we would discover the origin of humanity as we understand it today. But in one of his expeditions in Chichén Itzá, he disappeared for three months. When he returned, he wasn't the same. He never spoke about what happened to him on that trip, he just kept repeating a strange word: "Balamkú". Until now, when before dying, he looked into my eyes and confessed its meaning…
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