You had hit your breaking point.

They had all pushed you too far. Now here you were, laughing hysterically as gasoline coated the ground, a lit match in your hand as you could hear the cries of the 141 all begging you to stop.

You looked over at Soap, blood running from his nose as he looked at you with pleading eyes.

You would not give them any mercy.

You let go of the match in your hand, watching as the fire spread rapidly.