Buyers ask ChatGPT, Claude, and Perplexity before they ever ask you. Oomira shows you their answers, verbatim: what's wrong, what's missing, and the exact moves that change the next ask.
Enter a URL and an email. Your scores and a sample of the report land in your inbox, free, and you decide from there.
A monitored company is a seat on your plan, not a top-up: to watch more companies you move to the larger plan. Everything that spends with a provider — scanning another company, asking the assistants again, re-running a report past the included ones — is pay as you go at cost plus 50%, itemised in your ledger.
The facts as you would tell them: what changed, when, and why. It is the most accurate version, and it lives where no reader or AI can check it.
Whatever your assistant was told last: one value per fact, no dates, no sources, locked inside one product.
What anyone, and any AI, assembles when they look you up: real but stale in places, wrong in places, and held in systems you cannot read, let alone correct.
Every other tool checks what an AI says against your About page, so the best it can tell you is that the two differ. Oomira checks it against a record where every fact carries its source and the date it became true — so it can tell you the answer was right in 2024 and has been wrong since March, and show you the page that says so.
That is the sentence that costs the meeting, and it is not a hallucination — it is an assistant behaving correctly with too little to go on. We hand each one live web search and let it choose what to read, so this measures what they can reach today. Every reservation it raised names something their record can answer.
Your record is the asset: your facts, each one sourced and dated, ready for any AI that asks. The report is what it does first. Before it answers for you, it reads what the world already holds about you and names what is working against you. Every line below came out of a real run.
A 1,500-studio fitness franchise led with a billion in system sales dated 2018 and a million members dated 2020. The freshest figure on its record was the studio count. A skeptical reader notices that gap in seconds.
A materials startup described itself on its own site as a group of ambitious creative thinkers. The public record held a $2.8M round closed, a global sportswear brand on the cap table, and a federal science partnership worth up to $160M.
A mapping-data company had one independently cited figure: $7.6M in annual revenue. It stood alone, a single 2023 point with no prior year beside it, so a reader cannot tell climbing from cruising.
A design-build firm grew from 30 people to 80, then reset to 31. All three numbers sat on the public record. Without one sentence of explanation, discipline reads as decline.
An advisory firm claimed a billion dollars in exits and a thousand founders served. Every number traced back to its own website. Not one had an outside source behind it.
A snack brand appeared under three different names across its own public record. A first-time reader ends up tracing a rebrand instead of absorbing the pitch.
EACH ONE FROM A DELIVERED REPORT · SUBJECTS DESCRIBED, NEVER NAMED
Any company: yours, a friend raising a round, or one you are looking at. The scan runs deep and the scores land in your inbox.