The ink on the Warner Records contract was barely dry, yet the machine had already started grinding. Samuel Owen, now working directly with the label's marketing division, was in the band's temporary studio, pacing in front of a whiteboard overflowing with notes, timelines, and deadlines.
"Alright, Obsidian Saints," Samuel said, clapping his hands. "We're officially in the big leagues now. 'Angel of Death' is not just a song—it's a statement. And we're going to make damn sure the world hears it."
Rex nodded, his long dark hair tied back in a loose ponytail, guitar slung across his shoulder even in a planning meeting. Ash leaned back in his chair, legs crossed, shades on indoors, naturally. Silas, the bald and precise drummer, took quiet notes. Kai, the ever-calm bassist, tapped a rhythm on the table with his fingers, more excited than he let on.
Samuel turned to the label's digital marketing head, a young but sharp woman named Carla Briggs.
"We're dropping a teaser," Carla began. "Just a ten-second riff. No vocals. Dark visuals, flickering lights, silhouette of the band. No logo. No title. Just raw sound. Let it spread like wildfire."
Rex grinned. "Let the sound speak first. Mysterious and heavy."
Carla nodded. "Exactly. We'll schedule three teaser drops across five days. First on Instagram and TikTok. Then Twitter. And finally, YouTube Shorts. Each with a caption that just says 'Soon.'"
Ash chuckled. "We're going cryptic, huh?"
"Cryptic sells," Samuel said. "And you guys already have a cult following from The Four Horsemen and Seek and Destroy. The internet is watching."
Kai looked up. "What about the visuals for the release?"
Samuel beamed. "Oh, you're going to love this. The official release video will be a lyric-style animation. Dark, infernal theme—grayscale and blood red, cut with fast-paced flashes of historical footage we've cleared the rights for. Nothing explicit, but the message will come through loud and heavy."
"And the album cover?" Rex asked.
A large screen lit up. A mockup of the single's art filled the room—a gothic depiction of a skeletal angel descending onto a ruined battlefield, wings spread, sword raised. The band's name—Obsidian Saints—etched like molten rock into the sky. Below it, in stylized iron lettering: Angel of Death.
Silas let out a low whistle. "That's metal."
Carla smiled. "Glad you approve."
"We want to drop the single next Friday at midnight," Samuel said. "That gives us six days. You'll be doing interviews, podcasts, livestream Q&As, a fan Reddit AMA, and one in-person radio gig with RockHard FM."
Ash raised an eyebrow. "Radio?"
"They still exist," Samuel said with a grin. "And they've got 2.3 million listeners. You'll be live with the host, but we'll have a curated set of questions to avoid spoilers."
"What about Pete?" Rex asked, referring to their superfan. "He's been running those fan pages like a machine."
"We're giving him an exclusive," Carla replied. "Thirty seconds of the chorus clip. He'll drop it two hours before the teaser. Let the underground crowd feel like they're in on it first. Then we go wide."
"Nice," Kai said. "He's going to lose his mind."
"And we want you," Samuel said, turning to Rex, "to do a solo livestream the night before the release. No spoilers. Just you, a guitar, a dark room, and a talk about passion, vision, and a little mystery. Tease the intensity, don't explain it. Let people wonder."
Rex nodded slowly, already imagining the setup. "I can do that."
Carla chimed in again. "TikTok edits, Instagram reels, Discord servers, targeted ads. We're tapping metal and rock forums, Reddit, even gaming channels. The message is: this isn't just a band, it's a movement."
"Hashtag?" Kai asked.
Carla grinned. "#SaintsBringDeath."
Ash burst into laughter. "That's so over-the-top. I love it."
---
By mid-week, the first teaser had dropped. A ten-second riff, unmistakably intense, screeched through Instagram like a scream in a silent room. A lone silhouette against flickering lights. No context. No name.
The comment section exploded.
> "What the hell is this?! I need more." "Sounds like the gates of hell just opened." "That tone… is this Obsidian Saints?"
Then Pete Harrison, the superfan, dropped his exclusive clip.
"Alright, metalheads!" he yelled into his webcam. "This… THIS is what we've been waiting for!"
He played thirty seconds of the chorus, his face melting in real-time. The reaction video got half a million views in 24 hours.
On YouTube, reaction channels picked it up. Metal reviewers scrambled to be first. Reddit threads analyzed every second of the teaser, even making conspiracy theories.
"Are Obsidian Saints secretly time travelers?" one post joked. "Because this sounds like classic thrash from an alternate dimension."
Samuel and Carla monitored the numbers.
"Streams of Seek and Destroy just doubled," she noted. "And The Four Horsemen hit trending again."
The band sat in a quiet rehearsal room that night, watching it unfold on their phones. Kai looked around and muttered, "We haven't even released the damn song yet."
"That's the power of mystery," Samuel said from the corner. "And the storm before the drop."
---
The night before the release, Rex sat in his dimly lit room, a single spotlight casting shadows over his face. He strummed gently on his electric guitar, and with a calm, almost hypnotic voice, spoke to the camera.
"Tomorrow, we let loose something powerful. It's heavy. It's dark. It's honest. Let's just say… I got inspired by the gods of heavy music. But this isn't about history—it's about what we're bringing now. Brace yourselves."
He leaned into the camera.
"The Saints are coming."
The livestream ended with no song. Just silence.
The chat lost its mind.
---
Friday night. Midnight.
Angel of Death dropped on every platform.
Within the first hour, it had 400,000 plays on YouTube alone. Spotify, Apple Music, and Deezer servers staggered under the traffic. Warner's analytics dashboard glowed like a Christmas tree.
Carla stared at the numbers. "This… this might be our fastest-growing metal debut ever."
Samuel leaned back in his chair, a proud smirk on his face.
"And to think, I found these guys online by accident."
Ash poured celebratory shots backstage. Rex just stared at his phone, seeing the world erupt.
Silas looked over. "You okay, man?"
Rex nodded. "Just taking it in."
Kai raised his glass. "To the Saints."
Rex lifted his.
"To the death we bring."