"Well, up next we have lucky number thirteen in this first bracket! We called this matchup 'Eternal Darkness', because it features two competitors shrouded in a very tangible aura of evil. It's Dot going up against Harold Ford! We don't know a whole lot about either of these fighters, so this should be very interesting to see!"

Ciqufrinz wastes no time in making this next announcement, as the two fighters are raised up into the Grand Arena. The lights flicker with their presence, both combatants exuding a dark energy into the atmosphere as they stare each other down. Attota sounds the horn, though neither fighter immediately steps off of their pedestal.

"So, you're the unfortunate soul chosen to go up against me? Well, at the very least, I can assure you that this will be swift. I can't guarantee that it will be painless, though." Harold says, cracking his knuckles. Dot remains silent, staring blankly back at Harold from beneath the shroud covering its face. Harold scoffs, displeased with the fact that Dot didn't respond to him. He pulls out a switchblade and sprints across the battlefield, slashing and swiping at his foe with rapid motions. Harold manages to knock Dot's hood out of its face, but all that he finds underneath is a swarming mass of blackness, which quickly disappears from sight, as the hood seems to reposition itself on its own. Before Harold can really process this information, Dot's arm shoots up and grabs him by the throat, holding him firmly in place. Harold tries to free himself, but Dot's grip is immovable. Suddenly, Harold hears a voice in his head.

YOU CANNOT BEAT ME.

"H-heh, your fuckin' mind games won't work on me, shadow man!" Harold coughs, still making no progress on freeing himself.

YOU WILL BRING ME TO VICTORY. I NEED A VESSEL IN ORDER TO MAKE USE OF MOST OF MY POWER.

"Grr...would you just let go already?" Harold kicks at Dot, but again, his efforts are futile.

I WILL TAKE YOU. YOU WILL BECOME ME. RESISTANCE IS POINTLESS.

Before Harold can respond any further, Dot covers his mouth, and the darkness contained within the shroud swarms its way into Harold's body, before the cloak itself follows, draping itself over Harold, whose eyes have become dyed completely black. His body collapses onto the ground, before rising up again, now clearly completely taken over by Dot, who simply smiles from beneath his hood.

"Well, that's that settled. If my understanding of the rules here is correct, then I've won this match as long as Harold shows no signs of resistance against my power, and as long as I am able to maintain my own identity."

Dot speaks loud and clear, seemingly directly talking to Ciqufrinz and the staff of the Arena. He idles patiently while he awaits a response, and after a fair bit of awkward silence, Ciqufrinz can be heard making another announcement.

"Er...yes, yes that is true, but we'll need to prove beyond a doubt that Harold won't be able to break through your hold. So, why don't you explain exactly how this works?" Ciqufrinz clears his throat while speaking, apparently having not expected this whatsoever.

"With pleasure. You see, I, Dot, am not a living being in the traditional sense. I am rather a collection of Abyssal Energy, granted form by what you call a Stand. That is Colorado Springs, the cloak which I am wearing right now. If it were to be removed from me before I had taken this host, I would have dissipated into nothingness. This is part of why I came here to begin with. Where better to find a worthy vessel than a gladiatorial tournament? This body does little for me, but it does enough to ensure that I do not need to fear what had been my only weakness."

"Yeah I guess that makes sense. Well, now that you've explained that, how can we know that Harold won't be coming back?"

"He's dead. If I were to exit this body, he would not be animate."

Dot takes off his cloak and holds it in front of Harold's face, before vomiting out a stream of writhing darkness, manifesting as its original form. Sure enough, Harold collapses onto the ground, with no signs of life, let alone consciousness. Dot swiftly possesses the body once more, and looks expectantly towards the ceiling.

"Well, I guess you've made your point. You will be deemed the victor of this round, and allowed to use Harold's body in future matches. Just, try to keep things a bit more, spicy, so to speak, going forwards. The audience isn't a huge fan of fights that end without much violence."

Dot nods, snickering. Within a few more seconds, he is transported to the victors' area. He doesn't speak to anybody, and the others seem to understandably keep their distance.