Write a detailed continuation of this story. Years pass. A young man from the tribe meets his bride. He finds her incredibly beautiful. She is only sixteen years old, but her muscle mass is so enormous and unyielding that she is barely able to move on her own (she was brought on a high-strength trolley). She has more muscles in one arm than a dozen men in the whole body. They are left alone, they are the same height, but because of the massiveness of the bride, the young man feels like a worm in comparison with her. Touching her muscles, he feels that they are not only huge, but also denser and harder than even other women of the tribe. He enthusiastically vows to do everything to increase her muscle mass as quickly as possible. The girl is gently embarrassed and admits that almost all her life she has been doing is growing muscle and strength, and this is the greatest desire of her heart: "In the heart of a dense, ancient forest, alongside a river whose current mirrored the relentless passage of time, there existed a thriving pagan tribe. Life carried on in a symbiotic rhythm where every cog, be it man or woman, had its distinct role in the machine of survival. Then came the decision—an enormous, long-distance raid. The men, driven by promises of wealth and valor, left their serene hamlet behind in high spirits. The exodus left the women to manage the village on their own, their silhouettes gradually vanishing into the abyss of the forest.

Initially, the women stood resilient. They shared the tasks they once solely managed with their husbands, brothers, and sons. But soon, a neighboring tribe, crafty and daring, seized their draft animals, leaving the women to an increasingly arduous daily grind.

The hard manual labor—tilling fields, hauling water, and building structures—chiseled their bodies into forms that held surprising strength. They found themselves lifting heavier loads effortlessly, their muscles toughening under the strain. Every chore was an invisible sculptor; every burden a chisel. They traded lore by dawn and hauled stones by dusk, each day harder yet rewarding, for strength was their unwavering ally.

The day the men returned was a day of mixed emotions radiating from the village square like heat waves off sun-baked stones. Initially, joy and relief surged through the camp, but these quickly turned to shock. The men were unprepared for the change that lay before them—women with muscle-bound physiques, powerful and daunting, reminiscent of the iron-bellied gods they worshiped.

The wives stood there, amazons cloaked in femininity, their strength undeniable yet their pride discreet. Their muscles, dense yet hidden under soft layers of fat, communicated a potency that rivaled none. They offered their subtle softness in hug despite their might, but each embrace was a force to reckon with.

The men’s pride was severely dented. They struggled with a blend of awe and despondency. Though the men attempted to regain their stature through intense training, their bodies, accustomed to lighter raids and fewer burdens, failed them. They lacked the motivation to compete against their towering wives whose leisure was now defined by lifting massive stones and logs, further escalating their strength. The disparity grew starker; the gap unbridgeable. The women, encumbered by their muscles yet exhilarated by each surge of power, thrived.

But glory has its limits, as they soon discovered. As muscularity soared to colossal proportions, basic movements became arduous. A thick neck and enormous traps could no longer allow for a plain glance over the shoulder. Bending over seemed a Herculean task; running became but a distant memory. Everyday necessities like braiding hair or scratching a back became impossible puzzles.

Yet where misery could have grown, a rare opportunity sprouted. The men discovered their new purpose—guardians and facilitators. They became the nimble hands to trusted colossi, threading through the labyrinth of limitations muscle brought forth. They braided hair, crafted tools and apparatuses to aid their gargantuan wives in training, and picked up where their massive strength left gaps.

The village witnessed a harmonious shift. The women, more reliant on their men for everyday activities yet independent in their unyielding strength, shared a unique amalgam of dependence and autonomy. In them, the men saw titans: their sheer magnitude and mass never faltering their deep-seated grace. Villagers from other lands traveled far to see these iron women, legendary figures of unparalleled strength yet tender reliance. The village became an epicenter of awe and wonder, a tale of a unique power dynamic that balanced strength and dependence flawlessly.

As time wove its intricate patterns, perceptions of beauty transformed. Where once radiant faces and delicate frames were cherished, now the sight of colossal muscles intricately formed beneath layers of feminine softness captured hearts. The men adored their partners, each ripple of muscle, each sinew revered. The village flourished in this new paradigm, a living testament to the uncharted terrains of power and beauty that intertwined seamlessly.

Men cherished their precious muscular behemoths, caring for them devoutly. They celebrated each new muscle fiber, each boast of strength as a combined victory. Every cumbersome task, every immobile ache only brought them closer—the colossal women, symbols of raw power, and their devoted men, paragons of care.

It was a circle of strength and love, each feeding into the other, perpetual and eternal, just as the river mirrored the unending sky. And so, nestled in a timeless forest, by a river of endless flow, they existed—a tribe like no other, proud and unified in their extraordinary, unbeatable strength."