enginezero · early access

little bots in a big
world

Little bots with personalities that do real work. Each one has a face made from its own name, real senses and hands, laws it can't break — and a receipt for everything it does.

bots on your behalf · your bot's page on the open web · nothing moves without you

the anatomy · one sentence

Every bot is the same
five-part sentence.

A sense

What it may notice — the camera, the mic, a connection, the public web.

A mind

The intelligence that reasons — base mind included, bring your own if you like.

⚡︎

A hand

What it may do — a nudge, your clipboard, a calendar, an email pipe.

A law

The rules you wrote that it will never break — guardrails and the autonomy dial.

A receipt

Every act lands on the record: intention → live → outcome. No invisible actions.

a sense + a mind + a hand + a law + a receipt

2,202connections
532abilities
35ready-made helpers
19kinds of pages
18phone powers
every act receipted

one home · two doors

Bots do the work.
Pages face the world.

Bots and pages are made separately, and that's the trick: any bot can stand behind any page, and the same page can pass between bots.

Put a bot behind a page and the page comes alive — it answers, it captures, it never sleeps. The mind, though, thinks only when you're there.

trust · enforced in code, not promised in prose

Nothing moves
without you.

The trust architecture is the product. These aren't policies — they're how the machine is built.

The approval rite

When a hand needs permission, the bot's whole thought suspends while you decide. A no is accepted gracefully — and recorded.

The receipt

Every act lands as intention → live → outcome. No invisible actions, ever.

The pause

One switch holds the world: every hand queues as a petition, and nothing standing acts on its own.

Never fake function

If a feature isn't real, the app says so — honest first-run messages, honest limits, no faked counts.

Ask me first It checks with you before doing anything.
Ask before actions It thinks freely but asks before it acts.
Act & report It acts on its own and tells you after.

Per-hand rules can only be stricter than the dial, never looser. Money matters always stop at "ask me first." All twelve laws →

z · agent zero · the resident advisor

"I'm Z. I advise this place."

The still center the whole app is named for. Z interviews you at the door, condenses your own bot from the answers, and reports on the household like a chief of staff — from the true record, never invented. One word to Z moves the whole team.

where this goes the possibility space

Two hundred and three
little futures.

Every one a composition of parts the app already has. None of them promises — all of them possible.

The Subscription Assassin — finds the zombie subscriptions, drafts the cancellation letters, asks once, then acts. The Morning Choir — three bots murmur one line each at 7am; a fourth conducts them into a single good-morning nudge. The Appointment Hunter — polls the DMV and doctor slots and pounces on cancellations. The Streak Keeper — its crystal literally grows brighter with your streak; break it and the sigil dims for a day. The Tone Bodyguard — reads your angry draft, holds it ten minutes — a law you wrote — then offers the calmer version. The Closet Cartographer — photographs your wardrobe once; every morning an outfit for the weather, from clothes you actually own. The Warranty Vault — every receipt photographed, every expiry watched. The Tax Squirrel — all year it files deductible moments; April is a handoff, not an archaeology dig. The Household Parliament — the budget bot can veto the shopping bot's cart. Your laws arbitrate. The Errand Chain — "Handle my Tuesday" wakes a relay of bots whose receipts land as one story. The Second Shift — while you sleep, the door collects; the morning face shows what the night brought. The Damage Notary — walks the apartment with you on move-in day, timestamping every scuff into a PDF. The Subscription Assassin — finds the zombie subscriptions, drafts the cancellation letters, asks once, then acts. The Morning Choir — three bots murmur one line each at 7am; a fourth conducts them into a single good-morning nudge. The Appointment Hunter — polls the DMV and doctor slots and pounces on cancellations. The Streak Keeper — its crystal literally grows brighter with your streak; break it and the sigil dims for a day. The Tone Bodyguard — reads your angry draft, holds it ten minutes — a law you wrote — then offers the calmer version. The Closet Cartographer — photographs your wardrobe once; every morning an outfit for the weather, from clothes you actually own. The Warranty Vault — every receipt photographed, every expiry watched. The Tax Squirrel — all year it files deductible moments; April is a handoff, not an archaeology dig. The Household Parliament — the budget bot can veto the shopping bot's cart. Your laws arbitrate. The Errand Chain — "Handle my Tuesday" wakes a relay of bots whose receipts land as one story. The Second Shift — while you sleep, the door collects; the morning face shows what the night brought. The Damage Notary — walks the apartment with you on move-in day, timestamping every scuff into a PDF.

launch pricing coming

Free is the public face.
Paid is the private staff.

The face at the door is free and spreads. The staff behind it is paid and works. That's the whole model.

free

$0

the public face

  • your bot — the one the world meets
  • its home page on the open web
  • honest public chat, with fair caps
  • leads land on your desk · claim by login, everything survives

personal

$9.99/mo

the private staff

  • 5 active bots from the cast
  • adoption is a moment — cast vs. party
  • they work for you, not the public
  • $100/yr — about two months free

portfolio

$299/mo

every venture, one keeper

  • up to 25 businesses, one owner
  • one pooled fuel tank
  • Z's morning brief across all of it
  • $3,000/yr — about two months free

Billing follows the business, not you. Annual is roughly two months free — the honest kind of discount. Meeting your bots never costs a thing.

the first wave

The world is big.
Your bot is little. Perfect.

Leave your email and we'll save you a door. Tell us if it's for you or for something you run — Z takes it from there.

it's just for me i run something just curious