Now faced with an empty nest, Splinter is starting to fill the space- with more of himself. Enjoy, and see just how much mass he packs on at Big Stories here!

Art by  silver-stag

---

Splinter, when he had spent his first years under New York City, had done a lot of reading. It's how he became so enamored with the great Italian masters he had named his sons after, for a start. In that time, while he never really thought it would be something he would have to deal with, Splinter had come across the term "Empty Nest Syndrome." He realized that it had been the root of his problem, why he couldn't concentrate, rest, or properly meditate. He had dedicated almost two decades of his life to training his boys, making them the ninjas they were today, and all that energy, all that dedication, suddenly had nowhere to go. He needed something to do, something that could challenge him and engage him, and of all the ideas he sought to look at, the discovery he made in Raphael's room stuck in his mind the longest.

The rat, ever ready to adapt, made his own inquiries and research, and soon he discovered a new workout program and a bodybuilding set that seemed fairly well tuned to a well-seasoned father like himself. He figured he might increase his strength a bit, maybe stop waking up with a sore back— but he vastly underestimated what Raphael's supplements would do to him.

Perhaps it was part of the nature of being a mutant, but in a matter of weeks, Splinter found it was shockingly easy to gain muscle mass— whatever it was, his age, his training, perhaps something more mystical in nature, Splinter found the rush of power and strength an intoxicating blend as he began to chase bigger and bigger gains, and he was rewarded for his efforts. The patronly rodent was able to transform his body into the sort of physique that would make bodybuilders seethe with jealousy, with hefty, thickly roped arms that were beginning to rub against his jutting chest, tensing the fabric of his muscle shirt, as he didn't want to tear through all of his better silk robes. His broad shoulders and thick neck filled out his bust line, and he had accumulated enough mass on his legs, sculpted thigh muscles and beefy calves, that he thought he might need to redouble his efforts with his combat training— it would take work to move as flexibly as he used to, but the thought of slimming down when it came to him was instantly banished as he picked up a barbell with enough weight piled on to crush a small car. He could accommodate the new mass, but first, he wanted to see if he could beat his rep max.