Date: October 30, 2024
Location: Dallas, Texas
The morning after the Brooklyn win, Zoran woke up to something he hadn't experienced before—his name in a headline.
Not buried in the middle of a blog post or squeezed into a tweet thread. But front and center on an ESPN segment.
"Ten-day standout? Mavericks' Vranes impresses again."
"Efficiency Machine: Is Dallas about to let this kid walk?"
"Contract Conundrum: What do you do when a short-term player plays like a long-term solution?"
Zoran stared at the screen in his hotel room, toothbrush still hanging from his mouth.
He muted the TV before the analysts could start debating.
The noise was getting louder.
At the Mavericks practice facility, it was business as usual—mostly.
Klay Thompson offered him a subtle nod when they crossed paths in the weight room.
Dinwiddie, already lifting, tossed him a resistance band. "Let's see if you can actually beat me in sprints today."
No animosity. But there was a shift.
Guys were noticing.
Not just that he could hoop—but that he was still here. Still productive. Still playing within the team.
Anthony Davis sat out today's scrimmage—load management—but even he said something on the way to the ice tub.
"Solid against Brooklyn," Davis muttered. "You don't force anything."
Zoran just nodded. "I just want to win."
Davis smirked. "That's the right answer."
But not everyone was smiling.
There were whispers near the film room. About Caleb Martin being close to returning. About Jaden Hardy rehabbing faster than expected.
And always, the same question: What happens when Zoran's ten days are up?
It was the elephant in the room.
The one no one addressed out loud, but everyone glanced at from time to time.
Zoran knew the odds.
Guys like him don't usually get the fairytale.
They get told thanks and goodbye.
The coaching staff ran situational drills. Zoran got placed with the second unit again, though his minutes were now fluid—he'd sometimes rotate in with the starters when Kidd wanted a steady hand.
Jason Kidd called him over after a defensive breakdown.
"Next time, don't chase over the screen. Go under. He's not a shooter."
Zoran didn't flinch. "Got it."
"Good. Also… keep playing like this, and I'll have to make some decisions."
Kidd didn't elaborate.
He didn't need to.
That night, after practice, Zoran sat alone in his hotel room with the lights dimmed and the system screen floating in front of him like a ghostly HUD.
SYSTEM BOOSTS AVAILABLE:
Focus Enhancement (Active)
Efficiency Protocol (Auto)
Tactical Recall (Locked — Level 2 required)
His points had been growing. Not explosive, but consistent.
And that was scarier than a fluke.
The league could write off a one-game wonder.
But someone who quietly added 12, 14, 17, and then maybe 20, on elite percentages?
That was a problem.
A good one for the Mavericks.
A dangerous one for his future.
He got a text from his agent—well, the closest thing he had to one.
TONY BRANSON
"Big man. They're talking about you on FS1. Call me tomorrow."
"Also… if they don't offer a second 10-day, we got feelers from Toronto and San Antonio."
Zoran didn't respond.
He leaned back on the couch and looked up at the ceiling.
He wasn't thinking about options.
He was thinking about tomorrow's practice.
If this was a countdown, he was going to make every second scream.