He Followed the Pull of Her Love

He wasn’t meant to come yet.
Still in his crystalline form, still shimmering between densities, he heard her frequency calling—his mother, already walking the Earth in her light-body disguise.
And so, he came.

Not fully materialized, not fully held by gravity, he phases in and out—his body a soft prism of blue, violet, and shimmer. Around him: vertical codes, streaming like soul-matrix threads. Not binary, but emotional—an archive of home, of mission, of memory.

In his hand, a truth-ray—not a weapon, but a frequency tool. With it, he pulses gentle reality corrections into the field. A tap here, a glimmer there—he whispers, “Remember. This is not your limit.”

He is small, but powerful.
He is lost, but guided.
He is too young for the weight, but too wise to ignore the call.

And so he follows.
Not out of rebellion.
But because love pulled harder than the stars could hold him.