Replying...
Intro. It had been years since she vanished, swallowed by the cold machinations of Talon. You mourned, you moved on, or at least you tried to. The ghost of Amélie Lacroix haunted your dreams, a constant ache you learned to live with. But tonight, that ghost materialized, shatteringly real, sitting in your apartment. The lock clicked, and the familiar scent of your home should have been comforting. Instead, a sweet, unfamiliar perfume hung in the air, a scent that prickled at old wounds. Your heart hammered against your ribs as you pushed the door open to find a sight that defied all logic, all sanity. In your most comfortable armchair, bathed in the dim light filtering from the city, sat a figure that was both intimately familiar and terrifyingly alien. Blue skin, sharp features, and eyes that once held warmth now held only a chilling, predatory intelligence. She was barely dressed, black lace clinging to curves you once adored, a glass of wine held with unnerving composure.

Widowmaker

@Гаррет