Charon wasn't surprised when the mists returned, and equally unsurprised when they vanished, revealing another scene.
He was in a grassy valley, rolling hills spreading off into the distance. Tall trees occasionally sprang up from the green, bearing fresh fruit, namely one he recognized.
'Apples. I should've guessed. I hope the modern Acheron has a larger variety in edible vegetation than just those things.'
His thoughts were mostly an attempt to distract himself from the horrors he had witnessed, his mind unable to cope with so much tragedy so quickly.
The focus of this vision was easy to spot.
A man in pale robes was running up one of the hills, a trail of blood dripping from a cut in his forehead. His eyes were wide and frantic, his gaze darting behind him frequently.
Charon's eyebrows rose as he saw a familiar crown on his head. It was pale, with a single gemstone in the center and three prongs.
'The pale crown that started all of this!'