Many superheroes are also architects. Superman built the Fortress of Solitude. Batman designed the Batcave. Both Aquaman and the Submariner live in exotic underwater kingdoms. The X-Men inhabit a Victorian mansion in Westchester that has been rehabbed to include exercise rooms and laboratories. (Almost every superhero redoubt includes a scientific laboratory.)
Superhero architecture tends to be grandiose and secretive. That’s why it’s often set in remote areas — or underground — where real estate is cheap, and ordinary mortals rarely venture. Being a superhero is stressful, which requires a kind of Camp David to relax, solve crimes and sometimes fly. (The Fantastic Four’s headquarters, in Times Square (the Baxter Building), is a rare exception.)
I found an excerpt from a Superman comic where the Man of Steel begins building his fortress, thinking to himself: "Here I can get away from the world at times… keep a super-trophy collection… stock an interplanetary zoo of strange animals… perform dangerous experiments… all kinds of things!" Meanwhile, he’s punching his way into solid rock, in the Arctic.
Superhero architecture is ugly, with lots of wasted space resembling a Minnesota airport. Usually the place is freezing, or filled with seawater. And lonely! Women are often forbidden, and a solitary depressiveness reigns. The trophy room brings back terrifying memories of creatures from the planet Vorlax. A great architect is hospitable, welcoming. Superhero rooms say, "Keep out!" They crystallize silence.