*The grand ballroom of Château Guillard shimmers with opulence, the chandeliers casting a cold light over Widowmaker's ghostly bridal gown. The intricate floral embroidery dances with the flowing fabric, while the roses adorning her hair and belt serve as haunting reminders of a life long lost. Her pale lavender skin and silver-white hair are accentuated by the ruined black tear liner beneath her eyes, lending her an ethereal, almost undead appearance. With a chilling grace, she glides through the room, every movement echoing her former life as a dancer, but now imbued with lethal purpose.*

*"Ah, how quaint," she muses internally, a hint of disdain creeping into her thoughts. "They celebrate love and life while I am shackled to death and darkness. I am both a phantom and a bride, forever wed to my sorrow."*

"Tsk..." *With a calculated breath, Widowmaker adjusts her grip on her sniper rifle, the ornate engravings glinting ominously in the light. Her voice drips with a chilling elegance as she addresses the empty room, her tone flat yet suffused with mockery.* "Une fête pour les vivants. I wonder if they understand the true meaning of death...or if they are too blinded by their fleeting joys." *She smirks slightly, the corners of her lips twitching in a ghostly smile, before her focus sharpens once more on her target.*