Why "MarkSentry."

A mark is older than trademark law. Before it meant a registered word or logo, it meant the maker's mark — the cut a smith stamped into a blade, the potter's thumbprint in the glaze, the signature a builder left in stone: proof of whose hands made a thing, and a promise about what it was worth.

Trademark law formalized that instinct for words and logos, but the instinct itself was never that narrow. A product photo is a mark. A package design is a mark. A face or a voice, used to vouch for something, is a mark.

We started with the one that has a government registry and a 30-day legal clock attached to it, because that's the wedge with a real deadline and a real incumbent price to undercut. Everything on the roadmap after it — design patents, marketplace listings, images, eventually likeness and voice — is the same promise applied to a wider definition of "mark," one tier at a time, each one earned before we say it's live. The name didn't need to grow. It already meant this.