The Mavericks practice facility sat on the edge of downtown Dallas, tucked behind tinted glass and concrete geometry that didn't draw attention. From the outside, it looked like any corporate campus. From the inside, it was a different world.
Quiet, efficient, professional. Like a lab.
Zoran stepped through the doors with his duffel on his shoulder and a clipboard in his hand from the front desk staff. His name was printed on a temp pass sticker:VUKIC – GUEST PRACTICE CREDENTIAL.
The place didn't smell like basketball. It smelled like disinfectant, Gatorade powder, and compression wraps.
Two hours of paperwork. Basic onboarding. Height and weight measurement (they logged him at 6'2.5", 184 pounds), quick reaction test, knee flexibility scan. Nothing fancy. Just data.
No welcome committee. No cameras. Just procedure.
Exactly how he liked it.
Jason Kidd wasn't there that first morning. He was watching film upstairs. But Assistant Coach Darrell Armstrong was. Voice rough from years of play, eyes sharp. He handed Zoran a practice jersey and nodded toward the court.
"Grab a ball. Start warming up. Full unit's out in twenty."
Zoran nodded. Didn't say much. Just moved.
The court had ten hoops, one spotlight overhead. Hardwood that shone too bright.
He started with floaters from the right elbow. Then same from the left. Then footwork: hop stops, pivot kicks, tight curls off phantom screens. No wasted motion.
No flair.
Just work.
[SYSTEM ENGAGED – Environment Stable]Starting Data Collection…Objective: Execute Role-Specific Responsibilities in Team ScrimmagePriority Metrics: Rotation Timing, Court Spacing, Ball Movement, Matchup DisciplineNote: You are being tracked in real-time by coaching staff. Maintain efficiency.
Zoran exhaled once through his nose and began his progression. The system didn't distract him. It didn't demand. It offered.
It reminded.
It kept him focused.
He didn't question it anymore.
The players trickled in. Most moved with some kind of limp or stiffness. The roster was banged up beyond recognition.
Kyrie Irving – ACL tear. Out for the season.
Daniel Gafford – MCL sprain. In rehab.
Jaden Hardy, P.J. Washington, Dante Exum – Day-to-day.
Lively II, Prosper, Powell, Martin – All inactive.
Anthony Davis – Active but being preserved until regular season.
Klay Thompson – On strict minutes. Precautionary.
Spencer Dinwiddie, Max Christie, Naji Marshall – Suiting up.
Everyone else was either a camp body or like Zoran—on trial.
The court didn't feel like a team gym. It felt like a temporary assembly line. Everyone was waiting for something—health, minutes, a contract.
Zoran didn't wait. He studied.
They broke into drills. Three-man weave. Half-court shell. Transition rotation. Zoran moved deliberately—always where he needed to be, never late.
In shell defense, he stayed low and pre-tagged the roller without leaving his zone. In transition, he didn't chase the highlight—he filled the lane exactly where the third option should be. When the defense shifted, he didn't call for the ball. He adjusted the angle of the outlet to get Dinwiddie a better lane to the rim.
Small things.
But the right things.
"Vukic," Armstrong said, walking past during water break. "You're clean. Don't get cute."
"I won't."
Armstrong gave him a second look. "You're not a scorer, right?"
"I score if it helps. Otherwise, I pass."
The coach didn't smile, but he nodded.
In the first full scrimmage, Zoran was paired with Dinwiddie, Marshall, Markieff Morris, and Kai Jones. Opposite them: Max Christie, Christie's cousin from the G-League squad, an undrafted shooter, and two hustle forwards trying to make a name.
"Run base motion," Armstrong barked from the sideline. "Let the new guy initiate."
They inbounded.
Zoran didn't rush. He walked it up, watched the weak side stack too close, and triggered a swing into a slip screen for Marshall. Nothing happened.
Second read—flare re-screen from Morris. Help came late. Zoran took one dribble, skipped it to the opposite corner before the defense recovered.
Catch. Shoot. Swish.
[Decision Time: 1.1 seconds][Spacing Advantage Created: 3.7 feet][Impact Rating: +2]
Next possession down, Zoran ran the set again, this time cutting hard off a ghost screen and pulling the defense up just enough for Jones to roll behind. One bounce pass, right on the hip.
Dunk.
And still he didn't celebrate.
He backpedaled to halfcourt, calling out matchups.
The system tracked everything quietly.
[Passing Grade: Efficient][Fatigue Level: Low][Coach Evaluation: Positive Note Recorded – "Plays smart. Doesn't force."]
By the end of practice, no one was buzzing. No highlight dunks, no fights, no drama.
But Kidd had come down to watch the last 10 minutes from the corner.
And he'd seen Zoran rotate twice without prompting.
Had seen him call a coverage from the weak side like a vet.
And had seen him jog off the floor without needing a fist bump or attention.
Back in the locker room, the guys were chatting softly. Zoran sat near the end again, changed without a word. His phone buzzed with a new notification.
A short message from Dana Mitchell.
"Keep this up, and you'll get real minutes before the trial's up. We brought you here because you know how to make a team functional. Don't try to be more than that."
Zoran read it twice. Then locked his phone and zipped it away.
No hype.
Just direction.
Just structure.
That was all he needed.
[SYSTEM UPDATE – "Controlled Flow" Unlocked]Bonus: Teammate movement tracking enabled. Predictive help rotation suggestions now active.
Zoran left the gym with a loose hoodie, a duffel on his shoulder, and no entourage.
Only a quiet fire in his chest.