He's... alive?

...this is not a hospital room. Or a hospital gown. Or a hospital smell. Or a hospital headache, he has no headache at all.

Weird coma dream? Seems likeliest. He sits up. Looks in the direction of the window in case the curtains are about to swoosh aside to reveal something.

Nope!  They do look plenty movable, if he feels like getting up.

Sure, why not. He gets up and heads for the window. What's out there, coma dream?

White void!  He can't spot any imperfections showing it to be made of a specific material, but whatever building he's in is casting a diffuse shadow on the.... ground?  Floor?  Bottom - of it.

Wow that's such a boring choice, His Subconscious. If he sticks his head out can he see adjacent windows or anything?

Well, there's a screen in the way.  (Made of tiny hexagons instead of squares.)

To keep out all the many bugs in the white void, he presumes.

Okay. Does the door also lead to a white void?

Nope!  It leads to a living room with a similar but not identical decor scheme.  Couches, coffee table, another guy in a suit.

He waves.  "Hi, Cam.  How are you feeling?"

"Comatose. And you are?

"No, that was a few minutes ago.  Journey Carison, pleased to make your acquaintance."  He holds out his hand for a shake.

Sure, Cam will shake. "And you clearly already know who I am." Because of being a figment of his imagination.

"Mm-hm.  Care for anything to drink, or should I cut right to the explanations?"

"You wanna conjure up a pineapple juice out of nowhere?"

"Not quite out of nowhere."  He holds out a hand and a glass appears in it, slower and with more sparkles than demon conjurations tend to have.  Cam can watch the material spiral up into solidity and then fill with, presumably, pineapple juice.

Journey passes it to him.  "Production's just prepping it in time dilation and beaming it in.  - Perhaps you'd like to sit down."

Sure. He will sit down. "Sparkles. Really."

"Really.  That's the teleportation mechanic we've got a sponsorship deal with this season; you don't get to pick something else even though you do have a fair amount of steering power over some aspects of the aesthetics."

"I am not optimistic that staring at a notebook for three hours will explain the symbology here."

"No, probably not at this stage.  Would you prefer I start with the historical, cultural, or cosmological explanation?"

"The historical cultural or cosmological explanation of what."

"What you're doing here."

"Hit me with the cosmos."

"So, you died.  Condolences.  But, good news!  My employers nabbed you out of the hands of death - not literally, there's no such entity as Death, where you're from - and brought you to this pocket dimension.  It's associated with the Cypress Realitary Coalition, which is an organization that facilitates trade and travel between several hundred universes.  Lotta different kinds of magic and technology at play, here.  If things go as planned, you'll leave here with access to substantial power in both."

"This recasts some of your earlier remarks in a more ominous light."

"Oh, which?"

"'Production' and 'sponsorship' in particular."