"Yes. I've... met people who were marked. Branded."

And they weren't, hadn't been, because they'd been young enough that survival meant compliance, until the burden and dissonance grew too much to take.

They scowl at the memories. "It never meant anything good. Whatever this is, hard to believe it can be much better."

M-Bot, turning in circles in its still mostly-distressed attempt at a perimeter check, chirps in sympathy and worry.

If SecUnit would recognize it, the sigil looks vaguely catlike, the glow dying down even as it stares.