He didn't approach.
That surprised him. His body tensed, ready to move, but his feet stayed planted. The pulse shifted, spreading outward instead of forward, thin and cautious.
The creature moved.
Its limbs bent at incorrect angles, not broken, just wrong. It made no sound. Its presence felt incomplete, as if parts of it had been erased and not replaced.
He understood, then, without being told.
This was corruption.
Not violence. Not madness.
Absence.
The pulse pressed outward again. The space between them felt denser, like walking through water. The creature slowed, its movements stuttering.
"You're doing that without realizing it."
The voice came from behind him.
He turned carefully. A young man stood a short distance away, posture relaxed but eyes alert, already watching the creature rather than him.
"You should stop," the stranger said. "Not because it's dangerous. Because it's teaching you bad habits."
"I don't know what I'm doing," he said.
"That's obvious." The stranger paused, then added, "Also useful."
The creature reacted to the pause, attempting to move again. This time, the pulse resisted instinctively, not pushing, not crushing—just refusing to give ground.
The creature recoiled.
"See?" the stranger said. "You're not overpowering it. You're denying it."
"What is it?"
"A failure. Someone who didn't choose in time."
The words settled heavier than they should have.
The creature slipped backward into a narrow gap between buildings and disappeared, as if it had never been there.
The pressure lifted.
The street resumed its noise, too suddenly. He exhaled without realizing he'd been holding his breath.
The stranger studied him. "Your Essence is still pure."
"How rare is that?"
"Rare enough that people kill for it," he replied. Then, after a moment, "Common enough that you won't survive just by having it."
They walked together, not side by side, but in the same direction.
"You'll feel pressure soon," the stranger continued. "Internal. External. The world doesn't like undecided things."
"Undecided?"
"Essence wants a shape. A domain. If you force it, you become unstable. If you wait too long, corruption fills the gap."
"And if I choose wrong?"
The stranger smiled faintly. "You won't know until it's too late."
They stopped at a crossroads. The stranger turned away.
"When the pressure sharpens," he said, "remember this. Power doesn't start with strength. It starts with refusal."
Then he was gone.
The pulse remained.