Strong as an 0x
Submit weekly or proceed weakly
Sing, O Muse of sinew and sunrise, of the week when hoofbeats shook the valley and iron rang like thunder on the anvil of dawn. Let the roll of names be as spearpoints shining, each with tale and temper, each weighed for battle-readiness beneath the unsleeping eye.
First strides Rekt Diomedes, breaker of pads and tamer of distance, whose days were not counted but conquered. Four hours he wrestled in the storm-halls of combat—clinches like grapples with sea-serpents, drills that carve breath into blades. Ten miles he ran as a prelude only, folded into the march of fourteen-thousand steps per …