This is not another documentation tool.

This is the end ofcontext drift

When your code speaks, everything listens.

This is not a pitch.

It's a confession.

We built Lupis because we hit the wall ourselves.

We tried everything. Notion workflows. Confluence templates. GitHub wiki discipline. Slack reminders. Code review checklists. We hired a technical writer. We made documentation part of the definition of done.

Nothing worked. Because the problem wasn't process. It wasn't people. It was physics.

In a world where code moves at the speed of thought, context moves at the speed of remembering to update documentation. And humans? We're terrible at remembering.

The gap between our code and our documentation wasn't just a technical debt. It was a trust debt. With our users. With our team. With ourselves.

So we stopped trying to fix the symptoms. We decided to cure the disease.

This is our confession. Our obsession. Our reason for being.

Because truth shouldn't be this hard.

So let me tell you a story, and like all the good things in life, it's a simple one.

Act I

The Great Acceleration

We built faster. We shipped more. We celebrated velocity.

The age of AI arrived, and we embraced it to its fullest. Suddenly, code moved at the speed of thought. Features appeared from a single prompt. Pull requests multiplied. The commit graph shot upward. It felt like magic. Claude and Copilot at our fingertips. Every developer a 10x engineer. Every sprint a rocket launch. But by looking at the future, we forgot the present.

Act II

The Silent Catastrophe

Truth became the casualty of speed.

It started innocently enough.

Monday morning. Someone ships a breaking API change at 3 a.m. The code is flawless. Tests pass. The PR merges.

Tuesday. Someone tries to integrate our solution into their systems. Opens the API docs. Starts building. Nothing works. The docs show endpoints that vanished in the night.

The first horseman arrives: The Drift.

Context slowly decaying into lies. What was true yesterday becomes fiction today.

Wednesday. Support tickets flood in. "The tutorial is broken." "The setup guide fails at step 3." "Your documentation says one thing, your API does another." The team scrambles. Where is the truth? In Notion? Confluence? That PRD in Google Docs? The README inside the repo?

The second horseman gallops in: The Scatter.

Truth fragmented across a dozen tools. Each claiming authority. None holding it.

Thursday. A critical security patch ships. Authentication flow completely rewritten. The change is urgent, necessary, correct. But who tells the documentation? Who updates the onboarding guide? Who warns the solutions team? Nobody. The commit message says "fix: auth" and disappears into the git log.

The third horseman emerges from shadow: The Silence.

Changes that no one announces. Changes that appear and vanish like ghosts.

Friday. The CTO asks for documentation on the indecipherable Golang microservice that handles payments.

Three teams point to three different repos. Each contains a README from a different epoch. One mentions technologies we abandoned. Another describes a future we never built. The third is a single line: "TODO: Add documentation."

The fourth horseman claims its throne: The Rot.

Knowledge buried in forgotten repos. Wisdom lost to time.

By Friday evening, the apocalypse is complete.

The codebase becomes the only source of truth, and nobody can read it all.

Act III

The Awakening

We found peace in a simple truth:

What if every change could announce itself to the world?

Let your code speak. Let everything else listen.

This is Lupis.

Not a tool. A nervous system for your codebase.

Code changes. Context follows. APIs evolve. Specs harmonize. Features bloom. Knowledge flows.

No more chasing. No more updating. No more drift.

Your code becomes the single source of truth. Everything else listens.

Lupis Logo
Act IV

The Guardians Rise

But we went further. We didn't just connect your code to your docs. We gave them protectors.

Picture this:

It's 3 AM. You're asleep. A junior developer halfway across the world merges a PR that changes your authentication flow.

While you dream, something stirs.

Nova awakens. She sees the change instantly. Scans her territory - every API doc, every integration guide, every code example. In milliseconds, she understands the impact. In seconds, she's rewriting documentation across seventeen different pages. Her tone? Exactly like your senior architect writes. Because she learned from them.

Axiom notices Nova's movement. He checks his domain - the test documentation. Three test suites need updates. He rewrites them, maintaining the precise, methodical style your QA lead prefers. No human asked him to. He just knows.

Herald hears the commotion. A breaking change this significant needs announcement. She crafts the changelog entry, writes the migration guide, even prepares the customer communication. All in the voice your users recognize and trust.

By the time you wake up, it's done. Not just updated. Perfect.

This isn't automation. It's evolution.

Your Documentation Army

We call them Intelligent Agents. You'll call them your new favorite team members.

Each agent is born with purpose: • A name you choose. An avatar you design. A personality that matches your team. • A territory they defend with their digital lives. • The ability to learn from your existing documentation and maintain your voice. • Intelligence to understand not just what changed, but why it matters. They don't sleep. They don't forget. They don't get distracted by Slack. They have one obsession: keeping their piece of your documentation universe perfect.

How They Defeated the Four Horsemen

Remember our villains? Here's how our heroes destroy them:

Against The Drift: Agents move with your code. When reality shifts, they shift with it. No lag. No delay. No drift.

Against The Scatter: Through semantic events, agents speak a universal language. One change triggers a symphony of updates across every platform. The scatter becomes synchronization.

Against The Silence: Agents don't wait for permission. They see, they understand, they act. Every change announces itself to the world. The silence is shattered.

Against The Rot: Agents remember everything. They learn continuously. They preserve knowledge across time and teams. Wisdom accumulates instead of decaying.

The apocalypse isn't coming. It's been prevented.

Imagine walking into work knowing that: • Every piece of documentation is current • Every platform is synchronized • Every change is tracked and announced • Every team member has perfect context Not in some distant future. Today. The agents are ready. The question is: are you?

The agents are ready. The question is: are you?

Our Manifesto

Five laws, living documentation

Code is the only truth

Everything else is a reflection. When the source changes, the reflection must change.

Documentation is alive

Dead words serve no one. Living documentation breathes with your codebase.

Context is sacred

Every team member deserves fresh, accurate context. Always.

Drift is the enemy

The gap between code and documentation is where confusion breeds.

Automation serves humanity

Let machines handle the updates. Let humans handle the innovation.

The future starts with a single commit.

Will it be yours?

Ship code that announces itself. Build products that explain themselves. Create context that never lies. The future is already here. It's just not evenly distributed yet.