Long before mankind etched its first calendar into stone, they came. Celestial hunters—the Yautja, now known as the Ryautjan—descended upon the fertile lands of Earth. Guided by the cosmic grid of coordinates known only as The 777, they arrived in what is now Mesoamerica—regions aligned with what would become human phone number zones. These locations were not random. They were veins of dark matter and dark energy, converging points of unseen life that only the Ryautjan could perceive.

Humans could not see the truth. But the Ryautjan helmets, gifted by the Elders, revealed the writhing presence of life beyond the visible spectrum. Beasts of dark energy, hidden among reality, moved in silence. To the Ryautjan, the Earth was teeming with prey—we just couldn’t see it.

From these hunts came cooperation. In exchange for teaching the Aztecs how to build the pyramids—celestial altars and landing pads—the Ryautjan demanded sacrifices. But not for cruelty. For ritual.

The chosen were reborn.

There were Aztec gods—but not in the way historians believe.

The beings the Aztecs worshipped as gods—Huitzilopochtli, Quetzalcoatl, Tezcatlipoca, Mictecacihuatl—were not divine abstractions or spirits of nature. They were Yautja—the Ryautjan. Real, living entities who descended from the stars in fire and shadow.

To the Aztec people, they were the gods of war, death, fertility, and knowledge, and they carved their faces into stone and painted them onto walls. But those faces were human interpretations, attempts to give form to the unknowable. In truth, behind every mask and myth was the visage of a Yautja hunter, cloaked in shimmering light and wielding weapons far beyond mortal understanding.

The Yautja did not pretend to be gods.

They were gods—because they were the apex.