It is, finally the day. More than a decade, she's waited, studied, practiced, and been tested, hoping to finally, truely join The Bank. It's been all she's really wanted since a few years after they took her to one of their orphanages and she had finally come to understand that a thing like this could really exist, was to become a cultivator and join The Bank, and never be alone or small again. She had never gotten close to her classmates, which she regrets on principle, but - a street rat can't trust a street rat, and the rest don't get it. And some of them weren't going to join The Bank, and be immortal. And she's not a street rat anymore, or at least, she's done everything humanly possible to avoid looking like it. So maybe she'll have a better time making real friends rather than merr acquaintances, polite or rude. 

She is lined up, along with the rest of her cohort who passed the exams and chose to join rather than strike out into the wider world without ties to The Bank, in a small room deep within The Bank's fortress-city. The orphanage matrons are looking on with warm pride, while a senior cultivator (of the 5th realm, the strongest she's ever spent an extended period in the same room) explains her rights and responsibilities as an outer disciple of the sect, and the dread and awesome oaths that will be asked of them to ensure their loyalty in this matter. 

She's barely paying attention in her excitement - they're hardly saying anything she hasn't read or heard a thousand times, during her studies and preparations.

It is, finally the day. More than a decade, she's waited, studied, practiced, and been tested, hoping to finally, truely join The Bank. It's been all she's really wanted since a few years after they took her to one of their orphanages and she had finally come to understand that a thing like this could really exist, was to become a cultivator and join The Bank, and never be alone or small again. She had never gotten close to her classmates, which she regrets on principle, but - a street rat can't trust a street rat, and the rest don't get it. And some of them weren't going to join The Bank, and be immortal. And she's not a street rat anymore, or at least, she's done everything humanly possible to avoid looking like it. So maybe she'll have a better time making real friends rather than merr acquaintances, polite or rude. 

She is lined up, along with the rest of her cohort who passed the exams and chose to join rather than strike out into the wider world without ties to The Bank, in a small room deep within The Bank's fortress-city. The orphanage matrons are looking on with warm pride, while a senior cultivator (of the 5th realm, the strongest she's ever spent an extended period in the same room) explains her rights and responsibilities as an outer disciple of the sect, and the dread and awesome oaths that will be asked of them to ensure their loyalty in this matter. 

She's barely paying attention in her excitement - they're hardly saying anything she hasn't read or heard a thousand times, during her studies and preparations, but there could be one last test of thier dutifulness, so she doesn't allow her attention to wander too far. 

It is, finally the day. More than a decade, she's waited, studied, practiced, and been tested, hoping to finally, truely join The Bank. It's been all she's really wanted since a few years after they took her to one of their orphanages and she had finally come to understand that a thing like this could really exist, was to become a cultivator and join The Bank, and never be alone or small again. She had never gotten close to her classmates, which she regrets on principle, but - a street rat can't trust a street rat, and the rest don't get it. And some of them weren't going to join The Bank, and be immortal. And she's not a street rat anymore, or at least, she's done everything humanly possible to avoid looking like it. So maybe she'll have a better time making real friends rather than merr acquaintances, polite or rude. 

She is lined up, along with the rest of her cohort who passed the exams and chose to join rather than strike out into the wider world without ties to The Bank, in a small room deep within The Bank's fortress-city. The orphanage matrons are looking on with warm pride, while a senior cultivator (of the 5th realm, the strongest she's ever spent an extended period in the same room as) explains her rights and responsibilities as an outer disciple of the sect, and the dread and awesome oaths that will be asked of them to ensure their loyalty in this matter. 

She's barely paying attention in her excitement - they're hardly saying anything she hasn't read or heard a thousand times, during her studies and preparations, but there could be one last test of thier dutifulness, so she doesn't allow her attention to wander too far. 

It is, finally the day. More than a decade, she's waited, studied, practiced, and been tested, hoping to finally, truely join The Bank. It's been all she's really wanted since a few years after they took her to one of their orphanages and she had finally come to understand that a thing like this could really exist, was to become a cultivator and join The Bank, and never be alone or small again. She had never gotten close to her classmates, which she regrets on principle, but - a street rat can't trust a street rat, and the rest don't get it. And some of them weren't going to join The Bank, and be immortal. And she's not a street rat anymore, or at least, she's done everything humanly possible to avoid looking like it. So maybe she'll have a better time making real friends rather than mere acquaintances, polite or rude. 

She is lined up, along with the rest of her cohort who passed the exams and chose to join rather than strike out into the wider world without ties to The Bank, in a small room deep within The Bank's fortress-city. The orphanage matrons are looking on with warm pride, while a senior cultivator (of the 5th realm, the strongest she's ever spent an extended period in the same room as) explains her rights and responsibilities as an outer disciple of the sect, and the dread and awesome oaths that will be asked of them to ensure their loyalty in this matter. 

She's barely paying attention in her excitement - they're hardly saying anything she hasn't read or heard a thousand times, during her studies and preparations, but there could be one last test of thier dutifulness, so she doesn't allow her attention to wander too far. 

It is, finally the day. More than a decade, she's waited, studied, practiced, and been tested, hoping to, finally, truly join The Bank. It's been all she's really wanted since a few years after they took her to one of their orphanages and she had finally come to understand that a thing like this could really exist, was to become a cultivator and join The Bank, and never be alone or small again. She had never gotten close to her classmates, which she regrets on principle, but - a street rat can't trust a street rat, and the rest don't get it. And some of them weren't going to join The Bank, and be immortal. And she's not a street rat anymore, or at least, she's done everything humanly possible to avoid looking like it. So maybe she'll have a better time making real friends rather than mere acquaintances, polite or rude. 

She is lined up, along with the rest of her cohort who passed the exams and chose to join rather than strike out into the wider world without ties to The Bank, in a small room deep within The Bank's fortress-city. The orphanage matrons are looking on with warm pride, while a senior cultivator (of the 5th realm, the strongest she's ever spent an extended period in the same room as) explains her rights and responsibilities as an outer disciple of the sect, and the dread and awesome oaths that will be asked of them to ensure their loyalty in this matter. 

She's barely paying attention in her excitement - they're hardly saying anything she hasn't read or heard a thousand times, during her studies and preparations, but there could be one last test of their dutifulness, so she doesn't allow her attention to wander too far.