He climbs out of bed, doesn’t bother to change, walks downstairs to kick ALL of their asses, and then returns to bed, doing so without a single word. That’s not saying much - he isn’t the most talkative of people on the best of days, and he certainly wouldn’t count this day as anywhere near that.

He valued his sleep above all else yet these idiots were celebrating a win in their latest game for a sport he doesn’t particularly care about. It might have been his ticket out of poverty and towards some semblance of success, playing a game he was above averagely good at, but that didn’t mean he has to like it. Or celebrate it at all hours of the night like his brain dead teammates decided they needed to.

So, at the ungodly hour of 5am, he unleashes the wrath of a god he doesn't believe in to the teammates he barely tolerates. All it took was unplugging a speaker, glaring daggers, and a few pushes and kicks to get his message across. He returns to his warm bed and closes his eyes, and finally, mercifully, hears absolutely nothing.