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[B]Titans Tower, Gotham City, New Jersey
10:35 AM, January 1 2016[/B]

As a cruise ship passed North of Gotham City, headed towards Blüdhaven, its passengers briefly caught glimpse of a resort, pristine in appearance. It's white-washed walls were complimented by the literal tons of sand that surrounded them. Reaching heights taller than any of the buildings in the small oasis, was a water slide that looked like a dream to anyone on that boat.

But if they were more observant, they'd realize that all is not as it seems.

Past the image of the resort that was presented along the entire coast of the small island, was a set of hologram generators that cloaked the island and kept unwanted visitors to a minimum. Beyond the generators was a grassy paradise with actual natural beauty.

A network of narrow but comfortable roads led around a mile-wide space that made up the island. And at its heart was the most significant thing within miles: Titans Tower.

The giant T-shaped tower acted as the base of operations for the youthful band of superheroes: The Teen Titans. It provides housing, shelter, training facilities, and plenty of recreational activities.

Looking at it from outside, any architect would have to stop and smile at its elegance. Then they'd cry as they realized how often its internal spaces were destroyed.

As soon as a visitor would start walking inside, he'd catch a glimpse of an armored girl taking a deep breath from a cigarette, then puffing a degree of its poison back into the atmosphere.

After that, he'd open a glass door and see himself inside a bit of a parking garage. Everything from a motorcycle to a battle suit was at rest here.

Then, they'd head straight from across from the front door to an elevator. Stepping inside the elevator, they'd likely see how retro it looked. There was a neon sign dictating everything that they passed as they passed it. From automated kitchens to a war room to everyone's living quarters, they'd see everything they passed.

Then the elevator would come to a stop. The doors would draw open. And the visitor would likely babble like an idiot as he stepped forward into a jungle. But it wasn't really a jungle. It was just one of several training arenas that could alter its contents to meet the current needs of its user and simulate an appropriate exercise.

They'd stop and stare as an escrima stick would launch through the air and slam into the hand of a gunman that had been trying to sneak up behind a teen in a scorpion-esque battle suit.

The visitor would gape as a white-haired youth would flip over a military officer, stomp on the top of his head, and use it as a platform to leap into a tree where he'd watch the battle unfold.

And after gawking for a while, the visitor would see the illusion of a jungle fade away as the youths stopped fighting their imaginary battle and came together to shake hands.

If there were a visitor, that's what they would have seen.