Japan gestured frantically, "No wait Prussia-san please don't step on-!" Prussia's boot hit the ground. "...that tripwire."

Prussia jumped back, "Uh-oh."

Everyone stopped where they were. Silence reigned, as the nations waited with bated breath for an alarm or the sound of enemies approaching. After a full minute, France relaxed. "I suppose it iz not working for some reason?" he asked hopefully.

England shook his head, "No. They know we're here now."

Russia smiled and drew his pipe, "Good. Now we don't have to continue trying to sneak down this hallway like one of Japan's ninjas. Now they will tremble in fear at my approach, da?" Russia strode forward purposefully, his long coat swishing as he turned a corner up ahead.

Germany face palmed, "Oh, well. I suppose we will just have to follow suit and go with weapons drawn, and just see what happens."

Prussia smiled as he drew his sword, "That's my kind of fight, let's do this!"

The group had made some progress by now. They turned another corner and stopped when they saw Russia. He was staring at something directly ahead of him. He was in a defensive stance with his pipe at the ready. England approached him with caution, "Ah...Russia are you okay?" The tall nation said nothing by way of explanation. He pointed toward the end of the hallway with the end of his pipe.

England paled, "Oh." The rest of the nations followed suit, ending up in varying states of confusion.

France was the last to see it. He moved so that he could see past Russia's shoulders and gasped, "Mattieu!" He began run forward, in hopes of embracing his adoptive brother, but was stopped by Germany's restraining hand. France struggled against his grip, "Non! I must get closer, we must take him home!"

Germany shook his head, "No..."

France spun his head toward the German nation in bewilderment, "Why not?" he demanded.

Japan drew his sword, "Can't you see it?"

France stopped struggling, "No. What's wrong with mon petit Mattieu?"

England started flipping through his spell book, never taking his eyes off of Canada, "He looks...off. As if..."

"He's not himself." Prussia finished grimly.

Skiri's words echoed in their minds, "I have a way to make you obey...You and your brother..."

France tried to see better in the dim hallway as he observed Canada. The northern nation's stance was slightly awkward. One shoulder was slightly higher than the other. His legs were evenly spaced, and a long object that looked suspiciously like a hockey stick was in his right hand. His head was down, so that his hair covered his face. France was silent for a long moment. "...Why isn't he doing anything?" he finally asked.

Russia took a few careful steps forward, "He's waiting for us to make the first move."

Canada mirrored his movements with a shuffling gait. His head raised to reveal his face, it was twisted to look like a cross between absolute hatred and a silent plea for help.

England cocked his head, "I think he's fighting the spell...this is good. I can fix him easier. Distract him so that I have time to find the cure."

Canada took a few more steps forward, and Germany braced himself. "Hurry England." he muttered.

Prussia eyed the hockey stick, "He's about to attack. Don't hurt him too much, our friend is in there somewhere."

As if on cue, Canada suddenly rushed forward with his weapon raised. His shrill battle cry sounded utterly inhuman. He went for France first. Canada's hockey stick hit only air as France narrowly dodged it. With a feral growl, the usually quiet nation turned and attacked Germany with a sweeping blow to the legs. Germany went down. Just before the finishing blow came toward Germany's head, Japan did an uppercut motion with his katana, cutting the hockey stick clean in half. Canada stopped for a moment, looking at the stick in wonder. He then threw it down an went for Japan's neck. Japan ducked and rolled backward before Canada's hands reached his throat. By now, everyone is keeping their distance from the northern nation, making a loose circle around him, making evasive maneuvers when needed.

Canada was really frustrated by now. He stopped attacking, and sat on the ground indian style. His left hand was on the ground in front of him. There was a moment of silence. Prussia took a hesitant step foward, "Canada...?"

Canada didn't respond. The air around him began to cackle with electricity. Russia suddenly yelled, "Get back!"

The nations took his advice, and got back just in time to avoid the giant flashes of lightning that hit the ground where they had just been. Canada jump up and turned toward Russia. His advance stopped in one jerky movement. He worked his mouth as if trying to speak, "H...he..." Canada fell silent again. He jumped forward toward Russia, who managed to bat him away with his pipe.

"I got it! Hold him still!" England suddenly shouted.

Prussia came up behind Canada, and got his arms behind him. France and Germany each held one of his shoulders. As Canada struggled, England walked toward him, he was muttering a strange incantation, and he was making strange movements with his left hand, which was starting to glow orange. Canada shuddered, and a purple wisp passed through his lips. His body went limp, for a moment, at which point those restraining him let go.

Canada straightened and blinked a bit. He looked around confusedly, until his eyes rested on France, "Ah..."

France interrupted him by pulling him into a fierce hug. He muttered softly in French, "Je croyais vous avoir perdu puor un moment!"

Canada hugged him back, "I'm fine Papa..."

The other nations watched this heartfelt exchange. No one dared say a word until Germany coughed discreetly,"Right...so..."

Prussia finished for him, "One more to go."

"And then we will all go home, Da?" Russia added.

Another done!

I'm a little iffy on this chapter here. But I don't think I'll change it. The end is fast approaching.

Thanks for all the reviews and such, for they are much appreciated!

Later Dudes. ^J^