The world has ended.
The dragons are gone, the dwarves are gone, the elves are gone, and humanity is gone too.
But one bank is still open for business.
Dragon Savings and Trust Bank. The only teller: Gwen. A silver dragon with four hundred years of service and not a single day of annual leave.
One day, a goblin came in to redeem the reverse scale his grandfather had deposited. Gwen looked up the terms: "Please provide one intact human soul."
Goblin: "Humans went extinct three hundred years ago!"
Gwen: "That's your problem, not the bank's."
Then a human girl came in to deposit a dragon embryo. Gwen: "What kind of account would you like?" Girl: "A demand deposit." Gwen: "The interest rate is 0.5%." Girl: "Can you make it higher?" Gwen: "You're depositing an embryo, not a gold bar. The risk premium is high."
Then an Abyssal Lord came in to deposit his true name. Gwen: "Fixed-term or demand deposit?" Abyssal Lord: "Fixed-term. Ten thousand years." Gwen: "The annual interest rate is 0.01%. At maturity, you can withdraw a name and an extra 0.36 yuan." Abyssal Lord: "...Are you people demons?" Gwen: "We're bankers. Demons don't issue receipts."
Finally, the Rose Lord came to withdraw a deposit. Gwen pulled out the interest-rate manual: "Seven-day fixed deposit, 300% negative interest." Rose Lord: "I'll deposit!" Gwen: "Very well. At maturity, you'll owe me three copies of yourself."
Rose Lord: "???"
Gwen (smiling): "You're welcome to file a complaint, close your account, or come back again."
The story teaches us this: the apocalypse isn't scary. What's scary is signing a contract with a banker.
