Unseal is a small, deliberate crew of operators who spend their days doing the thing your board has nightmares about: getting in. We just write it down afterwards instead of selling it on.
No bench of juniors running someone else's scanner. Everyone here has stood inside a network that swore it was airtight, and left through a door nobody knew existed.
In 678 AD a Saracen fleet of over a hundred warships set sail for the walls of Constantinople. Waiting for them was a dozen pitiful-looking Byzantine boats. By the time the Saracens saw the sun catch the thin bronze tubes on the prows, it was too late. Molten fire sprang across the water, clung to flesh and timber like glue, and the fleet burned where it floated.
A weapon so devastating no one needed to use it twice.
Every breach since runs the same play. The wall holds. The firewall holds. The thing nobody saw coming does not. So we go looking for it. And we check the door, every door, before someone else does.
The Greek Fire recipe is the only seal in history that ever held, and even that one is lost. Yours won't be the second.
A seal is a promise: nothing got in, nothing got out, you can trust what's inside. Every company runs on a thousand of them: certificates, badges, signed builds, the green padlock.
We started Unseal because we kept finding the same thing for a living: the seal looked perfect and meant nothing. Somebody had already been through, or could be, in an afternoon.
So we named the company after the only honest move left: break the seal yourself, on purpose, while it's still your choice. un·seal: to open what was meant to stay shut, and finally see what's inside.
Better our hands on it than theirs.
Hyper-realistic offensive operations. Every exploit is real, every finding is proven. No theoretical risk, no checkbox audit: web, mobile, API, cloud, network. We get in the way the original payload did.
Four phases, one arc: we case it, we take it, we write it down, then we come back to make sure it's dead.
We map your attack surface the way a burglar cases a street: slowly, completely, and from angles you forgot you owned. Every subdomain, every forgotten staging box, every intern's public bucket.
The retest is one promise. Here are the other six.
No forms, no funnels. Reach the crew directly. We read every line.
Jacques-Louis David · Oath of the Horatii