Michael Tromba
Michael Tromba

I'm building the website platform for AI agents

Tell your agent to build you a website and get handed a live link. Cactal is the agent-native website platform, and it's what I'm building now.

Agency owners were some of the heaviest users of UXCanvas, my AI design platform. Several told me it was the best AI design tool they'd tried out of twenty. But they were afraid to show the designs to their clients: they built client sites in WordPress, and they knew they could never recreate what the AI had designed.

That's when it clicked. The design was never the product. The live website is the product. The AI was already writing real code for every design; it just had nowhere to ship it. UXCanvas is still running, and it now has an export button that hands a finished design to an agent on Cactal to build for real.

I'd been feeling the same gap from the other side. I ship a lot of websites, and Claude Code can prototype one in an afternoon. Then the plumbing starts: create a repo, hook up hosting, and watch a deployment fail on a missing environment variable while Claude cheerfully reports that the change is live. None of it is hard, exactly. It's just that frameworks, version control, and deploy pipelines were built for human developers, and agents are guests in them. What I actually wanted was to open Claude on my phone, say "add a blog post" or "build me a website," and get handed a live link.

So that's what Cactal is: the agent-native website platform. You connect your agent over MCP and it can do anything you could do by hand: build pages, write content into a real CMS, upload assets, connect domains, read analytics, publish, roll back. The first time you ask Claude for a website and ten minutes later get a link to a real one, live on the internet, server-side rendered, SEO optimized, favicon set, social previews and structured data in place, it feels like a trick. Then you keep iterating through plain conversation and realize this is just how it should have always worked.

I engineered it differently from anything I've built before, because the primary user isn't a person. I built the entire platform headless: every capability was an API with no interface at all, and only once the whole thing worked did I layer a simple UI on top for the things a human should handle, like billing. Most software treats the API as a byproduct of the product. In Cactal, the product is the API, and the dashboard is the byproduct.

The hard problem is trust. An agent that can publish is an agent that can break things, so every line of code that moves through Cactal passes through nine quality gates, from formatting and linting all the way up to rendering every single page of the site before a publish is allowed through. When something fails, the agent gets pinpointed feedback about exactly what went wrong, fixes it, and tries again, usually before you ever see the mistake. Great feedback loops are what make agents reliable, and they're the reason it's nearly impossible to break your website on Cactal. Or your client's.

Because everything is an API, everything can run on autopilot. Every morning at 6am, an agent audits one of my sites, reads its Search Console data, and quietly fixes whatever is holding the SEO back. Another of my sites is fully self-driving; it researches, writes, and publishes its own content every day without me touching it, but that one deserves its own story. Even cactal.ai is a Cactal website: when I want to change my own marketing site, I ask Claude, and a draft is waiting for my approval a minute later.

The bet is simple. The models are already impressive at web design and every release makes them better, so design won't be the bottleneck for long. The bottleneck is infrastructure that lets agents publish and operate what they create. Tools like Webflow and Framer take months to master; Cactal has no learning curve, because the interface is your own words and the ceiling is your taste. It's free until you connect a custom domain, which means an agency can build a site, show the client, and sell it before paying a dollar to host it. And the platform gets better every time a new model ships, because users bring their own agents.

The name goes back to a cactus farm. As a kid I played Minecraft on a factions server: dozens of teams competing for wealth and power, the biggest ones twenty-five players deep, grinding around the clock. My faction had three people. So I started waking up before school to work on an automated cactus farm, and it grew into a behemoth: rows and columns of cactus, piston harvesters wired to fire the moment a plant grew tall enough, water channels sweeping every harvest into a central vault. It ran all day while I sat in class. I'd come home, sell the haul, and watch our three-person faction climb until we were one of the richest on the server.

The website space is ruled by giants, which is exactly why it excites me. I've never wanted to win by grinding harder than bigger teams; I want to build the machine that produces while I sleep. Cactal is that machine for anyone who uses it: a hundred agents can run a hundred websites at once, building, publishing, harvesting traffic around the clock. The other half of the name is fractal, the same simple pattern repeating at every scale: one agent or a hundred, one site or a thousand.

Visit: cactal.ai