The next two months flew by as Ronnie fell into a routine as a member of the Syndicate of Heroes. Training became more structured, and he spent every weekend at headquarters learning how to better use his powers. Taran had once told him that superpowers were strengthened by routine exercise. However, Ronnie was still surprised at how rote and repetitive the process often was.

Every morning started with guided meditation alongside a Syndicate trainer, all with the goal of teaching Ronnie concentration and greater mastery over his powers. It was a struggle for him to sit in the quiet room without having his mind wander, and while his progress felt aggravatingly slow at times, it was certainly noticeable. Reaching for his power became second nature, allowing him to call up small force fields with ease. Defensive maneuvers that once took time and focus rushed from his body like flipping on a switch.

As it turned out, superpowers are more of an art than a science, and Ronnie was continually learning new things through trial and error. Taran had a hypothesis that Ronnie's force fields were stronger with physical contact, which lead to him facing off against a myriad of attacks. Thankfully, Taran had been correct. Doctor Peters excitedly documented everything for the case file and was kept up to date as his power readings advanced. She was also meticulous in strategizing around weaknesses in his skill set.

Though Ronnie had discovered a degree of telekinesis during his first lesson with Maya, there turned out to be some considerable limitations. As long as an object was already airborne, he could throw a force field around it for easy manipulation. However, Ronnie couldn't form full constructs around anything with too much contact with the ground or another surface. He was able to pick a tennis ball up off a table, but something like a cinder block was nearly impossible.

And then there were the energy bolts. Right away, Ronnie was assigned to projectile lessons with Coldsnap, a veteran hero with the ability to form weapons out of ice. She encouraged him to experiment with the size and shape of his constructs. "Vary your tactics," she told him, "And you'll be able to adapt to any situation."

This had led to hours of study in a room that looked like a futuristic shooting range. Silver robots followed paths drawn on the floor, moving targets for heroes practicing ranged attacks. Taking Coldsnap's advice, Ronnie learned to fine-tune his techniques for the situation at hand. Thin, narrow constructs could hit targets at a high velocity, punching through armor and stout defenses. On the other hand, wider, blunt force fields were capable of knocking down enemies or breaking walls. These fast, distant constructs still required an immense amount of concentration, and Ronnie wasn't able to fire off very many projectiles before he had to fall back and rest.

In addition to working on his power set, Taran had assigned Ronnie to athletic classes every day. He had stressed that no matter what powers a hero had, they also had to rely on physical strength. Especially if they found themselves in a situation without their abilities. The trainers kept the routines varied, and whether it was hand to hand combat, weight training, or endurance drills, Ronnie was pushed to his limit. All the hard work had its benefits, though, and he was excited to see improvement in his fitness and skills. His muscles were getting toned, and he really liked the physical changes that he saw. There was still a long way to go before he won any fighting competitions, but Ronnie was happy to feel more hardened and capable than he had on his first day.

Ronnie's favorite assignments were the twice-weekly group sessions he had with other Syndicate trainees. In these classes, the small groups learned different battlefield tactics and needed to work together to meet an objective. The exercise varied each class, but all reflected different scenarios they could expect to encounter in the field. One day it involved infiltrating a secured location to capture a flag; the next, rescuing hostages and evacuating them to a safe area. In these exercises, Ronnie learned even more about his strengths and weaknesses. He always scored well when protecting civilians; his force fields utilized in a variety of ways. In stealth missions, however, he lagged behind. All of his powers generated too much light, which quickly gave away his location. Ronnie found himself relying on his other skills, as well as his teammates in order to succeed.

Ronnie's team consisted of three other people. One of them was Maya, who jumped back into field training with enthusiasm ever since the failed mission with Taran at the museum. Ronnie loved watching her work, using her beaded necklace as a sort of utility belt. The departed souls trapped within allowed her to tap into incredible power. She could melt into shadows, summon shadow monsters, and manipulate magical energies. Magic could be finicky, and complicated spells left her vulnerable. Ronnie was always there to make sure she had cover. If he was a fortress, she was the cannon. As Maya grew stronger, the more unruly spirits locked in the necklace began to give her a begrudging level of respect and were more willing to lend their aid.

Also on his team was Ari, a younger boy who had the strength and speed of a tiger. He also resembled one with shaggy dark orange hair that striped to black around his face. Ari was sharp and angular, with pointed ears and yellow eyes. His divergent appearance left him shy around new people, but he quickly warmed up to the group and was soon telling jokes with a toothy grin. Ari was seventeen and spent the summer in Liberty City training at the headquarters. Like Taran, he was also a legacy student. His father was a retired Syndicate hero, and many members of his family had similar feline characteristics, the result of a genetic mutation that stretched back generations. It left them with exceptional hearing and vision, as well as enhanced strength and agility. Ari was fast, fought with sharp claws, and his natural gymnastic abilities allowed him to leap high into the air. He served as the team's primary physical fighter, and they depended on his brute strength to overcome many obstacles.

The team's final member was Carmen, who had the ability to focus and project waves of heat and light. These blasts could be used to disable enemies with dazzling light displays or be concentrated until they became white-hot lasers. Carmen was tall and blonde and liked to spend her time chatting with the group of boys that seemed to follow her everywhere. In her former life, Carmen had been something of a starlet — a pop singer with a handful of popular songs, well on her way to a life of fame when a tour bus accident awakened her powers. Suddenly possessing abilities, Carmen threw herself headfirst into Syndicate training, determined that if she wasn't going to be famous as a pop star, she would be a superhero. So far, she had been hugely successful in her endeavors and was the most talented hand to hand fighter on the team. Ronnie knew he was in trouble any time he had to spar with her. Manipulating the light around her as she fought, he often found himself blinded as well beaten up.

Carmen's fame when she arrived at the Syndicate made it hard for her to connect to others, but Ronnie found that she was a fiercely loyal teammate. She had also taken the time early on to check in and see how he was adjusting to Syndicate life. As someone who also discovered her powers through trauma, she related to the dark experience. Ronnie was touched at the gesture, and they became fast friends.

Every trainee team needed a sponsor, and Taran had stepped up to the challenge. In that role, he oversaw their daily exercises, managed individual training plans, and tracked their progress. As a leader, his expectations were high, and the team did their best every day to meet them. Ronnie often found himself pushed to the limit, but ultimately able to reach the goals that Taran was setting.

The team was gathered in a small classroom after another successful training scenario. Taran liked to take this time to debrief the exercise: highlight what went well and always had a list of things that could be improved. Ronnie slumped in his chair, exhausted from the day. In true cat fashion, Ari was already asleep in his spot, a hoodie covering his face. Maya and Carmen chatted excitedly about something, but Ronnie wasn't able to make out the whispers.

Taran finally arrived and walked to the front of the room. His amber eyes twinkled with excitement, and Ronnie wondered just what he was up to.

"You all did well today!" He started. "I've been reviewing the reports, and I'm happy to say that I've been given the green light for your next assignment, and it's a big one." He had the attention of all four trainees now. What did he mean, exactly? "Your next assignment is to register your official codename in the Syndicate roster."

The team exchanged surprised glances. This was a huge deal and something they had been wondering about for some time.

"Now, I don't want to stress you out, but please take this seriously," Taran continued. "The name you pick will become your public identity, and rebranding yourself is hard. There's no guarantee your new name will catch on, and you don't want to be stuck answering to Weather Boy your entire career." Ronnie stifled a laugh, but the message was clear: Don't pick a lame superhero name.

Maya was the first to have a name, one she had already been using on missions with the Magic Division. "Sister Shadow," she told them. "The necklace spirits have been calling me that for a while, so I figured it was appropriate."

"Call me Battle Cat!" Ari had announced the next morning at breakfast. "Uh, you know, on account of the battling and stuff." He flexed his fingers, sharp claws extending from the tips of his fingers.

"And I'm Phosphra," Carmen declared. "It's thematically appropriate, and will also look killer on merchandise! Branding is essential, after all. "The group turned to Ronnie, waiting for his announcement.

"I, I need more time to think about it," he stammered. Ronnie had spent the night wide awake, thinking long and hard on a name that he wanted to use. He needed something memorable, that reflected the hero he hoped to one day be. Unfortunately, inspiration was slow to come, and his indecision was starting to cause anxiety.

The weekend passed with no ideas, and on Monday night, Ronnie found himself lying in Taran's bed and staring at the ceiling. City lights peeked through the closed curtains while Taran snored softly next to him. Ronnie lazily reached up towards the ceiling and created a construct. Spreading his fingers wide caused the shimmering energy to flatten out and slowly rotate in the air. After weeks of projectiles and heavy-duty force fields, he found it relaxing to just slow down and play a bit.

Ronnie's narrowed in on the bottom of the construct and shrank it down to a point. A shape that reminded him of an old knight's shield floated above him. Ronnie smiled, pleased with his precision, but also at how the image felt right. His dream as a hero was to protect the innocent. His powers literally shielded others from harm, and it was what he was best at. An idea sparked.

"Babe, I got it!" He nudged Taran, too excited to wait until morning.

"Wha? Got what?" Taran rubbed his eyes and rolled over groggily. "Ack, that's bright!"

"I've got my name. It's Rampart." He looked over with a smile, watching in earnest as Taran mulled it over.

"Like the wall of a fortress?"

"Exactly!"

"Honestly, it's a perfect fit."