There's a light shining in the corner, it's growing. Glowing brighter and brighter and then it's a man. A man in a gold military uniform.

'Hello, Amelia.' He says,

'That's your real name?' asks Austria

'Yes.' Replies Australia.

'So, when they call you Lia, they aren't shortening Australia, they're calling you by your actual name?'

She nods, 'Yes.'

'Why does Russia call you Amy then?' he asks.

She ignores the question, 'We should get back to the memory.'

He walks to her, 'Get up.'

She obeys, she's wearing a grey, flannel nightdress, and her dark hair is in a plait down her back. If she didn't look terrified then she would look cosy.

The man circles her, 'You've grown your hair out.'

She nods, 'Yes, sir.'

He pinches her butt, 'It looks good.' He leans in and whispers in her ear, 'I bet that it'd look even better if it was all you were wearing.'

The gathered nations are horrified – Australia went through this without telling anyone!

'Who's that?' asks England his pirate side coming out, 'I'm going to make that bastard walk the plank.'

Australia gups and tries to talk, but no sound comes out, so Russia answers for her, 'That is General Summer, the brother of General Winter.'

England growls, 'Ah'll hunt him down and make his skin into a handbag!'

She shivers, 'Yes, sir.

He smiles, 'Let's go, pet. I want you to meet my brother's pet.' There's a glow and they're standing in a grand foyer.

He shoves her to a door, 'Get changed!' he throws in a bag of clothes.

She does as he says, the "clothes" are short shorts and a black sports bra. She walks out and he circles her.

'We can't have this.' He says, gesturing to the burn scars on her legs, he waves his hand and they're gone, 'Much better.'

He pulls out a black cat mask, 'Put this on.' She does so. He waves his hand, and a glowing orb comes floating out of her throat.

He tries to ask him what he's done but no sound comes out. She clutches at her throat and looks at him, horrified. 'Yes.' He says, 'I have taken your voice. A handy trick I must say.'

Then he presses his hand to her side, it burns and she thrashes, trying to get away, but he holds her in place. When he draws it away there's a stylized sun where his hand was – he's branded her! She's still getting used to the new reality when he turns and walks to the far end of the foyer, 'Come.'

America looks at Australia, 'Do you still have it?'

She nods and pulls up her shirt, the sun is worse up close, the skin around it is burnt red and the sun itself seems to glow like the skin is on fire.

She drops her shirt and returns to the memory.

Through the doors is a man in a matching military uniform, but his is sleet grey. Next to him is a tall man wearing a white wolf mask – Australia supposes that the man in uniform is the brother and the man in the mask is the pet.

'That's General Winter isn't it.' Says France, 'But who's the pet?'

Australia and Russia exchange a glance as the other nations theorise who might be the pet. No one has made the connection between Russia and General Winter.

Currently, most of them seem to think that it's the personification of the Arctic.

The pet is shirtless, to show off his heavily muscled arms and chest. It's probably the same reason that she's in the revealing clothes.

He's wearing loose white pants; they're gathered at the bottom and the top. He's barefoot. On his left pectoral muscle is a stylized snowflake – General Winter's branded him.

The pet nods a greeting, General Winter's probably taken his voice too. She nods back.

Once the generals have exchanged pleasantries they walk to a huge auditorium. Australia gathers that they are to show off their skills, and that she's going first.

She lets muscle memory take over – General Summer's made her do this so many times that she can do it her sleep.

'What's your skill, Australie?' asks France.

'You'll see.' She replies enigmatically.

She struts to the centre of the room. Then the music starts, it's a simple piano tune, but Australia definitely isn't dancing the waltz.

She rolls her chest and her hips. Her legs bend until her thighs are parallel to the ground. Then she sticks out her chest and rolls it continuously.

'Ahh.' Says France.

England looks horrified, 'Where did you learn that?'

America claps, 'You're a great dancer, Australia!'

She blushes, 'Thanks America.'

Then she slo-owly slid her legs apart, until she was sitting in the front splits*. She slides her chest forward and smiles, seductively at the Generals.

She rolls over so she's on her back, she slowly sits up, letting he chest lead. Then she's up and her leg is unfurling, it's up near her ear. She spins, still holding her leg up.

'Wow.' Breathes, Turkey.

She puts her leg down and rolls her chest again. Then she circles her hips, grinding them into the air.

Boom. Boom. Boom.

The tempo changes and she changes with it.

She kicks her leg up and then its down and she's back in the bend. Her arms are over her head and her hips are thrusting and her chest is going in and out.

Then she's jumping, her legs are up near her ears! She lands in the splits. Then she's up and then she's head over heels, she's flipping over and over, so fast that it's dizzying.

She finishes in a backflip, but as she hits the highest point her legs fly apart, so that she's in the splits, upside down in the air. She lands perfectly and starts shaking her chest.

Finally, the music ends and she's done.

The gathered nations start applauding.

'That was beautiful, Miss Australia!' says Italy, smiling. His brother nods, agreeing with him.

England starts and Australia waits nervously, but he smiles, 'Though I disapprove of the sexual nature of the dancing, it was beautiful, Lia.'

Australia blushes, 'Thanks Mum.'

'Australie, why did you not share your dancing with us? It is amazing!' says France. The rest of the Bad Touch Trio, nod, agreeing with him.

America has an idea, 'Dudes! We should have a dance party!' Everyone agrees – everyone except England and Germany, but they are easily convinced - and they walk off to a ballroom that has mysteriously appeared.

Author's Note: In my head, at the start she dances like Channing Tatum - smooth and sinuous and sexy.When the tempo changes, her style turns into more of a Nikki Minaj sexy hip hop and cheerleading. The cheerleading's the jumps and flips.