What shipped

The IRR calculator builds the cash flow series instead of asking for one. A generic IRR box takes a list of flows, which means the hard part already happened somewhere else; this one takes the deal, the equity, the year-one NOI and its growth, a flat debt service, the hold, and the net sale proceeds, and constructs the series on screen, so the arithmetic that actually goes wrong is visible. It also does two things most do not: it reports when a series changes direction more than once, because then more than one rate solves it and quoting one as the answer is wrong, and it prints the naive average annual return beside the real figure and labels it as not being an IRR, which on the default deal reads 13.78% against 11.68%. The commercial mortgage calculator answers the question loan sizing does not: what a quoted loan costs and what is still owed when the term ends. It has the field a residential calculator has no room for, the balance at maturity, and it prices an interest-only period in both directions rather than showing only the lighter early payment, so two years of interest only on the default quote reports both the $107,788 of extra interest and the $244,475 of extra balance it leaves behind. The debt yield calculator solves its triangle in any direction and then shows the identity the test is really about: debt yield is the going-in cap rate divided by the loan to value, exactly, computed from both sides independently so a reader watches the two tie. Read backwards, that is why a 6.0% cap property cannot be levered past about 67% against a 9% floor however comfortable the coverage looks. All three are embeddable with one line of HTML, and all three open on the same property the other calculators do.

The library explained what an internal rate of return is but not how one is actually produced, so a new page walks the series from the equity at close to the net proceeds at the exit, says plainly that no closed form exists and every tool is iterating, names the four places a published figure is usually overstated, and covers the annual, monthly and dated conventions that let two people compute two different rates from one deal. A second page sets the rate against the equity multiple with the tables that make the difference concrete: the same 1.65x is 18.2% over three years and 5.1% over ten, and the same 15% is 1.52x over three years and 4.05x over ten. A third answers what a good debt yield is the only honest way, in what the floor is doing rather than in market numbers a static page cannot know, and says outright that we do not sample term sheets and will not publish a table of current floors. The fourth compares interest only with amortizing debt on one loan, including the part that runs backwards: coverage looks best in exactly the years nothing is being repaid, 1.47x during the interest-only period against 1.26x once the payment steps up, on identical income.

Three more of the calculations people actually search for now have ungated pages. The NOI calculator builds net operating income from the top, with vacancy entered as a rate or in dollars and expenses itemized or collapsed into one total, and it prints a statement line by line with the expense ratio reported under both reserve conventions, because the management fee and the reserve line are the two reasons a broker NOI and a lender NOI disagree on the same building. The gross rent multiplier calculator solves any one of multiplier, price, and annual gross rent from the other two, and then argues against its own metric: it holds the multiplier still, moves the share of rent that never reaches NOI, and shows the going-in cap rate spanning three full points on identical price and identical rent. The break-even occupancy calculator turns expenses, reserves, and debt service into the occupancy where a property stops covering its costs, with the cushion in percentage points and in dollars of rent, and a ladder whose break-even row is exactly where cash flow reaches zero and coverage reaches 1.00x. All three are embeddable on any site with one line of HTML, like the other calculators, and all three open on the same property the cap rate, DSCR, and cash-on-cash tools do.

The glossary stopped at forty terms and was missing several that come up on a first pass through a deal: concessions and the net effective rent hiding behind an asking rent, bad debt as something separate from vacancy, the sources and uses that decides the equity check, positive and negative leverage, the gross rent multiplier, price per unit against price per square foot, stabilized NOI, sensitivity analysis, amortization, cash-out refinance, mezzanine and bridge debt, the expense gross-up, renewal probability, the office load factor, clawbacks, capital calls, and the passive activity loss rules. Sixty terms now, each with the formula, a worked example whose arithmetic ties out, and the specific mistake people make with it. Three new answer pages cover ground the return-metric pages did not: how to judge an internal rate of return without quoting one, which documents an underwriting actually needs and what each of them can and cannot settle, and where the hours in a deal really go.

The answer library explained how the return metrics are computed but not how to judge one, which is the question people actually type. Three new pages answer it the only honest way, in relationships rather than in market numbers a static page cannot know: the cap rate page reasons from the spread over the risk-free yield and the difference between going-in, stabilized, and exit; the DSCR page states the widely used 1.20x to 1.25x covenant conventions and converts any ratio into the income cushion it represents; and the cash-on-cash page tests leverage against the loan constant, which is what decides whether borrowing helps or hurts. Each one links the free calculator that runs the arithmetic on your own figures.

The free tools stopped at loan sizing and the cap rate. Two more of the calculations people actually search for now have ungated pages: a DSCR calculator that solves any one of NOI, annual debt service, and coverage from the other two, turns a loan quote into the payment with the same arithmetic as the loan sizing tool, and shows the covenant as dollars of income the property could lose before 1.00x, 1.20x, and 1.25x; and a cash-on-cash calculator that counts closing costs in the cash invested, derives the debt service from the loan quote, and re-solves the year-one return at the coupon plus and minus 50 and 100 basis points. Both are embeddable on any site with one line of HTML, like the other calculators.

The solutions library stopped at six pages while the product underwrote more classes than that: self-storage and medical office are asset classes in the intake dropdown that had no page, and student housing, build-to-rent, and mobile home parks had no answer at all. Each of the five now has its own page under /solutions, written against the engine as it is: storage and medical office as first-class classes with their own defaults, and the other three as what they really are in Altyst, per-unit rent rolls whose units are beds, homes, or pads.

Each deal's AI reading used to be reported as a count of credits, in a vocabulary the plan page used differently, and a deal that had used its allowance stayed paused for good: the only ways forward were typing figures by hand or rebuilding the deal from scratch. Every deal now shows one meter, from 0 to 100%, that appears once the deal has actually read something, and when it fills, a button on the meter turns one deal credit into a fresh full allowance for that same deal. The plan page stopped showing a workspace-wide AI figure entirely; the meter that governs your day is always the deal's own.

While you are viewing a listing on Zillow, Rightmove, Property Finder, Bayut, or Domain, one click on the Altyst button opens the intake with that listing's link already filled in. The extension deliberately does nothing else: it has no access to page content, collects no data, and its single permission grants the tab's address at the moment of the click. The listing itself is read through the same server-side path as a pasted link. As this entry ships the extension is in review on the Chrome Web Store; /chrome carries its current status.

A deal used to start only from uploaded documents. The intake now also takes a listing link from Zillow, Rightmove, Property Finder, Bayut, or Domain: the listing page is retrieved through our AI provider's own fetching service (never by our servers, and only from those five sites), the price, size, and address land as flagged, editable proposals, and the deterministic engine builds the same full model a document build gets. A page that cannot be read says so honestly and the deal continues from typed facts instead. Reads are metered as normal AI reads on the deal.

The after-tax view used to rebuild its pre-tax cash flows from operations and the sale alone, so a cash-out refinance or a mezzanine payoff in the middle of the hold never reached the tax schedule and the after-tax IRR quietly disagreed with the levered one above it. The tax engine now reads the same levered cash-flow vector the pre-tax returns are computed from, so every capital event lands in both.

The downside case used to scale growth rates multiplicatively, which shocked a high-growth deal hard and a flat-growth hotel not at all, from the same slider. Growth shocks now shift the rate by points, uniformly, with a sensible fallback where the base rate is zero. The built-in cases are also named for what they are: Downside, Base, and Upside.

Every deal carries its own AI credits, but the only meter lived on the plan page, so a document-heavy deal ran its allowance down invisibly and the first sign was a paused read. The Documents panel on the deal page now shows the count directly, as reads used of the credits the deal carries.

An offering memorandum that printed a sample of its own rent roll on a second page used to be read as two schedules, and the engine believed the sum: one review deal came back with a 133% going-in cap rate because its income had been doubled. A schedule that repeats the roll it sits beside is now recognized as the same schedule and read once, and a residential roll can no longer spawn a phantom commercial one.

An Altyst account used to be an email address and a password, which put a verification email between you and your first deal and one more password in your manager. Sign-in is now your Google or Microsoft account: one click, nothing new to store, no verification step. An account from the password era carries over on your first SSO sign-in with the same address, workspace and deals untouched.

Clicking the link in the verification email used to drop you on the login screen, where you retyped the password you had chosen two minutes earlier. A one-time link that arrived in your own mailbox is evidence enough, so the first click now signs you in and takes you straight to the plan step. Clicking a spent link again, which happens constantly because mail scanners follow links and people open them twice, returns an honest "already verified" instead of the old dead end, whose only offer was a resend that could never mail a verified account anything.

Deals that came in through the upload path already arrived complete. Deals that skipped it, started without a document, or built on an extraction that could not be read, landed on a screen of questions instead. The same completion now runs when the deal page loads, anchored on the stated asking price. Where no cap rate was quoted, income is backed out of the price at a default cap for the asset class. A multifamily unit count scales to the price, and a hotel gets a key count and an average daily rate from a per-key rule of thumb. Those defaults are placeholder assumptions rather than market figures, and every one of them arrives flagged as an estimate at the top of your review pass, so nothing the app filled in reads as something lifted off a document.

The sign-up and log-in fields are now 16px, which is the threshold below which iOS Safari zooms the page when you tap into one. The first thing a phone signup used to do was pinch back out. Each of those fields also carries a name, which is the second signal a password manager reads when it decides whether to offer autofill. And the consent checkbox no longer disables the submit button outright, so a keyboard or screen-reader user gets the explanatory error rather than a button that silently does nothing.

An empty Address field drew its placeholder in the same bold weight and full-strength color as a saved value, so "123 Main St" read as a real and wrong address sitting on your deal. Same for the city, state, and ZIP fields underneath it. Placeholders are lighter and quieter now, matching the sign-up screen.

Browsers fire a ResizeObserver loop notification whenever a resize callback schedules more layout. Nothing breaks and nobody sees anything, but it was being counted and reported as a crash, which buried the reports that matter. It is filtered out now.

The account panel already filtered the catalog down to the plans that are actually for sale. The chooser you meet immediately after verifying did not, so the first screen a brand-new account saw carried four cards reading "Pricing to be announced" and three add-on cards for a plan the account did not have yet. Both screens run the same filter now, and what they show is what is on pricing.

A verification email that is delivered and then filed into a junk folder looks, from the sending side, exactly like one that worked: every signal available to the sender reports success, and the only thing that says otherwise is the click that never came. An account that stays unverified past a grace window now raises an alert, once per person. The signup screen also names the junk folder explicitly and offers support@altyst.ai as a way in that does not depend on email finding you.

A rent column read as annual when it is monthly, a suite total divided by square feet, an area column read as square feet when it is square meters, an expense line booked monthly as annual: every one of those lands as the same symptom, which is that the income the rent roll implies stops agreeing with the net operating income the document printed a page earlier. There is now a single tie-out that derives NOI from the roll (or from the unit mix) and compares it against the stated figure in both directions, and it names the twelve-times case explicitly, because "off by twelve" tells you exactly where to look. It is deterministic, so it still fires in a workspace with no AI budget left. It stays silent when total operating expenses are missing: without expenses the figure derived from rent is effective gross income rather than NOI, and calling a perfectly consistent document with a 40% expense ratio "1.7x off" would only teach you to dismiss the warning that matters.

The annual-versus-monthly call on a unit mix used a flat $10,000 threshold applied value by value, which could split one table down the middle. A mix listing a one-bedroom at $8,400 a year next to a two-bedroom at $19,200 a year converted the two-bedroom to $1,600 a month and left the one-bedroom sitting at $8,400 a month, so two rows of the same table ended up on different scales. It misread both ends of the market for the same reason: workforce housing at $8,400 a year rode in twelve times high, which is the direction that makes a deal look extraordinary and that nobody questions, while a genuine $11,500 a month unit was divided down to $958. Scale is decided once for the whole table now, from the median, and where the mix carries unit sizes the rent per square foot settles it outright.

On a commercial roll, the call between an annual suite total and a rate per square foot used a cutoff of $200, which sits deep inside ordinary rate territory and overruled the column's own label. A routine $245 per foot rent on a 1,200 foot suite was re-read as that suite's annual total and divided by its area, so a column that had been labelled correctly arrived at about $0.20 a foot, roughly a thousand times low. In practice the two populations barely overlap, so the cutoff belongs between them rather than at the bottom of one: quoted rates per foot mostly run in the single digits to the low hundreds and reach four figures only in trophy retail, while a suite's annual total starts in the tens of thousands. The cutoff now follows the period the column is quoted in, because a monthly rent column and an annual one sit twelve times apart and one constant cannot serve both.

A commercial rent roll with "n/a" in a single square-footage cell lost the whole row. The tenant went missing along with its name, its rent, and its lease expiry, none of which were unreadable, and nothing on screen said so: the building quietly lost a tenant and that tenant's income. Whether a row exists is now decided by its identity, and values only decide its contents. An unreadable cell is left blank and named rather than guessed or zeroed, because a rent that cannot be read is not a rent of zero, and a unit whose rent is unknown is not an empty unit.

The deterministic engine is the source of truth for every number, and a live model provider adds a written narrative on top of it, never the arithmetic. But a deployment whose narrator was not installed used to fail inside that provider and show you a failed run, when the finished underwriting, with its provenance and its cross-document checks, had been available the whole time. The run completes now. The operator gets the warning about the misconfiguration instead of you getting a red row on a deal you just uploaded.

A failed run used to print the underlying exception straight into the Runs panel, so a misconfiguration could show you a Python error naming an internal module and telling you to install a package. Infrastructure faults now get one honest sentence and the full text goes to the log, where it is useful to someone who can act on it. The filter that does this had the opposite failure at first, collapsing sentences you genuinely could act on, such as a purchase price not being set on the deal, into a generic outage notice. Those pass through untouched.

Every risk rule judged whether a plausible deal was a good one. None of them asked whether the deal was plausible at all, and a misread input does not announce itself as an error: it produces a model that is internally consistent and completely wrong. A 30.6% going-in cap rate, a 131% levered IRR and an 18.8x equity multiple over a five-year hold were being presented with notes about exit-cap sensitivity, as though the only question left were the exit. The cause of that shape is almost always an input, so the rule names the three that account for most of it: a purchase price missing a digit, a rent column read as annual when it is monthly, and a unit count or square footage off by an order of magnitude. The thresholds sit far outside anything real, at a 25% going-in cap, a 100% levered IRR, and a 10x multiple over a hold of ten years or less, so an opportunistic development underwriting to a 40% IRR never trips them. A rule that cries wolf on good deals is worse than no rule.

These fields are entered in percent: the box shows 6 next to a % sign for a 6% cap. So a bare 0.06, which is what a spreadsheet stores and what a lot of people type out of habit, was read literally as 0.06% and divided by a hundred a second time. A 0.06% exit cap values the sale at 1,667 times NOI. Both readings parse and both clear every bound, and one of them is catastrophic in silence, so the app now asks and shows you both readings rather than guessing. It only asks on fields where a figure under 1% is not a real number for that field, which is caps, the loan rate, leverage, the expense ratio, and occupancy. Credit loss, concessions, vacancy, and growth rates can legitimately be a fraction of a percent, so 0.5 still commits there without an argument.

The input bounds existed, in their own comment, to catch a lost sign, a fat-fingered digit, and percent-versus-fraction confusion. They caught the first and the third. A purchase price of $999,999,999,999 committed and underwrote: against a normal property's income it returned a 0.00x DSCR and a 0.0% yield on cost, and a full set of numbers computed from it, with nothing on screen objecting. The new ceilings sit far above any real trade, because a bound that blocks an unusual deal costs more than it saves. A $2.2 billion tower still commits. A trillion-dollar price does not.

24.7 apartments do not exist, but the fraction was accepted and carried into gross potential rent, price per unit, and every per-unit comparison, where it reads as a real figure rather than as a paste that went wrong. A year built of 1987.5 passed for the same reason, because the check only ever looked at the range. Found by sweeping the input parser across the shapes a person actually types, and the rest of that sweep came back clean: decimal commas, doubled separators, a unicode minus, stray text, Infinity and NaN are all refused with a reason, while "$", "1e6", "+5" and a trailing decimal point all parse the way you would want them to.

Editing the rent roll re-derived everything else the roll defines: the unit count, the average in-place rent, the market rent, rentable area, the renovation count. Not vacancy. So flagging two of ten units vacant moved gross potential rent and left the deal charging whatever vacancy it started with, for the whole hold, with the grid on screen showing two empty units. Flag units vacant and the income came out overstated; mark a vacant unit leased and it stayed understated. Neither said anything. A roll with no vacancy column never participates, so a vacancy the trailing statement established is never zeroed by a roll that does not mention it, and a vacancy you set yourself always wins.