AI Support for your software team.

Someone on your team files a bug: “Order status doesn’t update until you refresh.”

Ten quiet minutes later it starts: a private copy of the code, the bug reproduced, a fix and a test.

All your tests pass. It takes a screenshot the way the person who reported the bug would see it.

A second AI, independent of the first, tries to break the fix and checks it against every comment people left on the bug.

Clean. In Auto mode the fix goes into your code, and the bug is marked for your review with a note and the picture.

From your app’s feedback button: “Export says Download CSV but the file is Excel.” The page and a recording of it attached.

The label and the file disagree. Both fixes are small, so it builds and tests both. Which one is a product call.

The second AI confirms this is a product decision, not a code one, and that the recommendation holds up.

One question lands in your tracker, once, with a recommendation: A — rename the button to “Export to Excel”, or B — a real CSV.

Your crash reporter files it by itself: a crash on the refunds page, the technical details attached, marked major.

Private copy, cause found, fix written, test added. Everything passes.

The second AI rejects it: the fix hides the error, and old orders with no customer would still be wrong.

It repairs what the reviewer found and a fresh review checks it again. At most twice, never forever.

One finding stands after the repair: it touches billing. Your call, so it waits for you with the fix, tests, picture and findings.

Someone working late asks in Slack: “Why does the nightly payout job skip on Sundays?” Nobody else is awake to answer.

It reads the code the way it would to fix it — a private copy, nothing changed — and finds the answer in there.

Ninety seconds later the answer is in the thread, with the exact lines it came from. What it cannot point at, it does not send.

A ticket asks for something written, not changed: “Write the setup guide for the new export API.” There is no bug here and nothing to fix.

It reads what the guide is about and writes it from the code that is actually there, not from what the last guide said.

The guide lands on the ticket as a PDF, every claim pointing at the code behind it. Nothing was changed to write it.

One of its own checks sees the company’s email failing and files a ticket by itself. Nobody has noticed yet.

The cause is outside the code: a setting at the company’s domain provider. Nothing to change in the app.

It may not change domain settings itself, so it drafts a $50 job for a vetted human on Natural Intelligence and waits for your approval.

Five lines: a bug fixed, a guide written, a question, a fix waiting for your OK, a job to approve. The Slack one sorted itself at midnight.

You reply “A” on the question. The rename goes in within the hour; the tests and the review are already done.

You read the finding and tap Ship. It goes in under your name.

You approve the job. A vetted human fixes the record, it is verified for 24 hours, then they are paid.

Six asks overnight: diagnosed, fixed, tested, reviewed, answered, written up. You made three calls, each recommended, in four minutes.