November 4, 2024 — American Airlines Center, Dallas, TX
It had been four straight wins.
Zoran had played within himself, been efficient, stepped up in big moments, and finally started hearing his name whispered in media rooms with respect—not novelty. NBA Twitter was starting to divide into factions. Some called him the next Malcolm Brogdon. Others thought he was a flash in the pan, a 10-day fluke who got lucky on a banged-up team.
The Mavericks themselves weren't saying much. But the silence was starting to grow louder.
There were now only six days left on his contract.
And Zoran had begun asking himself a dangerous question:
Would I even stay if they only offered another 10-day?
He didn't know the answer yet. But that question stayed with him through film sessions and shootarounds, through short conversations with AD, and even when Kyrie gave him a quiet nod before tip-off.
Tonight, they were hosting the Detroit Pistons.
A team they should beat.
A team that had no business hanging with a squad like Dallas—even with their injuries.
But that was the problem.
The Mavericks had started to believe the hype.
First Quarter.
The energy was off from the jump. The ball wasn't moving. Spencer Dinwiddie waved off Zoran on a fastbreak. P.J. Washington missed an open corner three and jogged back instead of sprinting.
"Move the damn ball!" Coach Kidd barked from the sideline. His voice echoed through the arena.
Detroit punched first.
Jaden Ivey pushed pace. Cade Cunningham ran the offense with surgical calm. And Jalen Duren caught a lob over Powell that shook the backboard.
Zoran stayed calm. He wasn't rattled.
But he could feel it—the disconnection.
Not with the game.
With the team.
SYSTEM"Warning: Team Synergy Low – Morale fluctuation detected."Temporary Boost: +1 FocusDuration: 12 minutes
He checked in at the six-minute mark. Dallas was already down nine.
He played his game.
Pick-and-roll pull-up midrange.
Swing pass to Christie for three.
Corner cut off an AD post fake for the reverse lay.
But every possession felt like swimming upstream.
Timeout.
Coach Kidd didn't call anyone out, but the message was clear.
"Stop acting like you've arrived. We're 4–0, not champions."
Halftime: Pistons 58, Mavericks 53
Zoran had 6 points, 3 assists, and a steal on 3-of-4 shooting. But he wasn't forcing it. Not with the mood in the locker room.
AD had said maybe five words since the second quarter. Dinwiddie and Washington weren't talking at all.
It was strange.
It was tense.
It was exactly the kind of moment where teams either gel—or fracture.
And Zoran?
He just watched.
Sat at his locker.
Silent.
Thinking.
Would another team build around me if I left? Would I even want that now?
Third Quarter.
It started ugly. A miscommunication led to a Cunningham three. Then another turnover. Then a Gafford offensive foul.
Zoran came back in midway through the third with Dallas down 11.
This time, he didn't ask for permission.
He ran the offense through himself.
Caught a switch on Isaiah Livers and took him to the rack.
Found Max Christie on a backdoor baseline cut.
Drew contact on a jab step into a side-step three.
And then…
Dinwiddie subbed back in and immediately called off a set.
Zoran's jaw flexed.
He didn't say anything.
But the crowd felt it.
Something wasn't right.
SYSTEM"Internal Conflict Registered – Mental Resilience Challenge Triggered."Optional Challenge: Take control of fourth quarter and close gap to within 5 points.Reward: +200 EXP | Minor Stamina BoostAccept?
[YesNo]
Zoran pressed yes.
But this wasn't about rewards.
It was about clarity.
Because if this was how the Mavericks were going to treat him—even after the games he'd strung together—maybe this wasn't home after all.