Small Forward.

By early October, the Kings' training camp had officially concluded, signaling the arrival of Media Day.

Although camp had its share of minor incidents, the atmosphere on Media Day was nothing but excitement.

The players' interviews revealed as much.

"This is the most media attention I've seen since coming to Sacramento." Cauley-Stein's enthusiasm was genuine.

His agreement with Lue had been a compromise—one he had to make. Han Sen's no-nonsense approach had made it clear: if he didn't start following the coaching staff's instructions, he was getting traded.

And going to a new team in a contract year? That was a disaster waiting to happen.

But now, standing in front of more reporters than he had ever seen in Sacramento, he could feel it.

The team was changing.

Staying here wasn't just the safest option—it was the best one.

Meanwhile, Donovan Mitchell had a different response.

When a reporter brought up last season's Rookie of the Year results, calling his loss to Ben Simmons unfair, his emotions were complicated.

At the time, Mitchell had voiced his frustration on social media.

Simmons had simply landed on a better team—he had Jimmy Butler and Joel Embiid. Mitchell? His best teammates were Rudy Gay and Domantas Sabonis.

Losing to Simmons felt like Carmelo Anthony losing to LeBron James back in 2003.

And to make things worse—Simmons wasn't even a real rookie.

But back then, his complaints had barely made waves. Simmons was a media darling, playing in a big market like Philadelphia.

Mitchell? He was in Sacramento—the NBA's forgotten graveyard.

Yet now, before the new season even started, reporters were speaking up for him.

Mitchell knew—this wasn't about the media changing their views.

It was about the Kings changing as a franchise.

As Shaq once put it: players go to big cities for a bigger platform.

But Han Sen is the platform.

Wherever he goes, the spotlight follows.

And with that spotlight came a new energy—one that made the players excited about the present and eager for the future.

---

With Media Day wrapped up, the 2018-19 NBA season officially began with preseason games.

The Kings' first opponent? The Houston Rockets.

Despite their Western Conference Finals loss last season, the Rockets had spent the summer retaining key pieces.

Chris Paul and Clint Capela both signed extensions, ensuring their core remained intact.

They also added Carmelo Anthony—who had been traded from the Thunder to the Hawks and then bought out.

This signing was partly due to their new owner, Tilman Fertitta, taking over after buying the team from the notoriously stingy Leslie Alexander.

But there was a bigger reason behind all of this—

Han Sen leaving Cleveland had shaken the entire league, just like Michael Jordan's first retirement.

Every contender knew the window was open.

Because if Han's dominance was anything like Jordan's, then just like the Bulls' return in '96, he could come back and crush them all in a few years.

The championship window was now.

---

This preseason matchup was held in Sacramento.

And for the first time in years, Kings fans truly felt the difference.

Preseason games in the NBA were like glorified scrimmages—starters rarely played more than a half, and ticket prices were dirt cheap.

Last season, the Kings' cheapest preseason ticket was $5—practically free.

Even then, the crowd barely filled a fraction of the arena.

But this year?

Tickets sold out almost immediately.

The only ones left were being resold by scalpers at inflated prices.

No investment deal or sponsorship could illustrate the Kings' transformation better than this.

When the players walked out of the tunnel into the Golden 1 Center, they were greeted by a packed house.

For the veterans who had been with the Kings?

It was surreal.

"Are we playing in the Finals or something?" Sabonis muttered.

Mitchell, the quickest to snap out of his daze, simply grinned.

"That's the goal."

The NBA was just a job to some players. But everyone wanted to play under the brightest lights.

Money was a huge motivator, but it wasn't the only one.

And now? For the first time, Kings players felt like they were in an environment where they could truly shine.

---

Preseason games didn't have opening ceremonies. After warmups, both teams announced their starting lineups.

Rockets: Chris Paul, James Harden, Carmelo Anthony, PJ Tucker, Clint Capela

Kings: Han Sen, Donovan Mitchell, Jayson Tatum, Domantas Sabonis, Willie Cauley-Stein

Wins and losses didn't matter much in preseason—it was about testing lineups and building chemistry.

For this game, Han was slotted into the same role he played in Cleveland—point guard.

From the opening tip, it became clear the Kings were struggling to keep up.

The Rockets' fast-paced offense overwhelmed them.

Houston was simply the more experienced, more polished team.

Meanwhile, the Kings' young core was still figuring out how to play alongside Han.

Every possession, they instinctively looked to pass him the ball.

The only player who had the confidence to take shots was Mitchell—but against Chris Paul's defense, he struggled.

The Kings' talent was undeniable.

But there were too many new pieces, and none of them were on the level of a Nikola Jokić.

By the end of the first quarter, the Kings trailed 30-18.

One notable rule change in the new season was the introduction of the 14-second reset rule.

Previously, when a team grabbed an offensive rebound, the shot clock reset to 24 seconds.

Now? It reset to 14.

This sped up the pace of the game—a perfect advantage for a team like the Rockets.

At the start of the second quarter, Lue made adjustments.

He subbed out Sabonis for Buddy Hield, opting for a faster lineup to match Houston's tempo.

It wasn't ideal—it was reactive rather than proactive.

But it worked.

Han began asserting himself, dropping 14 points in the quarter, helping the Kings close the gap to 54-48 by halftime.

The energy inside the Golden 1 Center?

Through the roof.

It was still just preseason. The Kings were still trailing.

But for the first time in years, there was hope.

In the second half, both teams rested their starters.

The reserves and fringe players took over, and ultimately, the Kings lost 110-100.

No post-game press conference was held for preseason, and the players returned to the locker room.

But Han?

Han stayed behind.

Because before the game had even ended, Lue had approached him with an idea.

A lineup adjustment.

He wanted Han to play small forward more in the regular season.

---

Lue had already tested a "Death Lineup" during training camp—something he had picked up from his time in Cleveland as an assistant under Michael Malone.

And the Kings?

They had the pieces for it.

Cauley-Stein and Sabonis were both mobile bigs, capable of anchoring a small-ball lineup—one as a defensive anchor, the other as an offensive hub.

At power forward? Jayson Tatum.

Tatum was the NBA's biggest in-between player—too slow for small forward, not strong enough for power forward.

Guys like Derrick Williams and Michael Beasley had struggled with that same label in past eras.

But Tatum?

He had the talent, and more importantly, he was in the right era.

With dominant post-up bigs fading from the league, hybrid forwards like Tatum had real opportunities.

In fact, the Kings had already tested this lineup in the second quarter:

Han, Mitchell, Hield, Tatum, Cauley-Stein.

Han played point guard offensively but defended Carmelo Anthony on the other end—and he did a damn good job.

Position changes weren't just about swapping labels. They came with major tactical shifts.

That's why Han and Lue sat together for so long after the game, breaking it all down.

Han?

He loved it.

This was exactly why he had upgraded his wingspan talent in the first place.

Now, he wasn't just open to playing small forward.

He was excited for it.

And soon, the entire league would see it firsthand.

But would it actually work?

Only the regular season could answer that.

---

By late October, the Kings wrapped up their preseason campaign with a 4-3 record.

At the same time, the NBA released its first official power rankings of the season.

At the top of the list? The Boston Celtics.

Despite losing Avery Bradley over the summer, they had Marcus Smart to maintain their defensive intensity in the backcourt.

And as a frontcourt boost, they signed Greg Monroe on a mid-level deal.

Their roster had only improved, not weakened.

At No. 2? The Golden State Warriors.

Preseason games weren't always a reliable indicator, but Paul George had seamlessly integrated into their system.

As for DeMarcus Cousins' departure, the Warriors responded by giving Kevon Looney a bigger role and bringing back Andrew Bogut as veteran insurance.

The No. 3 team? The New Orleans Pelicans.

Yes, they had been swept in the Finals by Cleveland, but at least their roster remained intact.

Their biggest offseason move?

Signing Avery Bradley—giving them a much-needed defensive boost.

At No. 4 through No. 7 were the Rockets, 76ers, Cavaliers, and Bucks.

And at No. 8?

The Sacramento Kings.

For Han Sen's past teams, 8th place would have been considered low.

But for the Kings?

It was shockingly high—even ahead of the Toronto Raptors (No. 9).

After all, Sacramento hadn't made the playoffs in 13 years—not since the 2005-06 season, when Ron Artest was their franchise star.

Since then?

They had never returned to the postseason.

And yet, with Han Sen leading the charge, they were already projected as a top-10 team in the league—and the 4th-best team in the West.

For Kings fans, that was more than just a ranking.

It was hope.

---

For the Kings' season opener, the NBA scheduled them against the Cavaliers.

Silver, the new commissioner, was showing more and more signs of having David Stern's old touch.

A championship ring ceremony in Cleveland.

Han Sen's first return to the city after leaving.

The storylines were endless.

By the time the Kings' flight landed in Cleveland, the airport was already packed with fans.

They held up signs, welcoming Han back home.

The atmosphere was overwhelming.

Back in August, Han had briefly returned to Cleveland for a special reason—

The unveiling of his statue.

Unlike his Grizzlies statue, choosing which moment to immortalize in Cleveland was easy.

After all, Shaquille O'Neal had given him the perfect nickname—

The Scorer's Table Terminator.

So his statue?

It captured the moment forever etched in Cavs history—Han standing atop the scorer's table, pointing to the floor, claiming his territory.

And beneath it, engraved in bold letters:

"THIS IS MY HOUSE."

That was why Cleveland fans' passion hadn't faded.

Han might have left for a new team—

But Cleveland would always be his home.

Mitchell looked around at the massive crowd, taking it all in.

"If it were me, I wouldn't be able to leave fans like this," he muttered.

Sabonis, watching Han's back as he walked ahead, shook his head in admiration.

"That's why none of us are him."

Leaving a championship contender to rebuild a franchise from the ground up?

Most players wouldn't dare.

And even if they did, they'd demand their new team trade all their young talent for immediate help.

But Han?

He was doing the impossible.

Mitchell nodded, fully convinced.

"He's the real King."

That was already his new nickname in Sacramento.

But as Mitchell spoke, he didn't notice Tatum's subtle frown.

---

The moment Han stepped out of the airport and into his car, his phone rang.

Jokić.

"I made dinner. Come home."

Han smirked.

If anyone was happiest about his return to Cleveland, it was Jokić.

Over the summer, Jokić had signed a massive contract extension and bought a house near Han's estate.

Even though Han now had a new estate in Sacramento, he had never sold his Cleveland home.

Because no matter where he played, Cleveland would always be a part of him.

The smell hit Han the second he walked in.

Rich, savory, unmistakably Balkan.

A full Serbian feast was laid out—grilled meats, flaky pastries, fresh fish. The kind of meal that brought back memories of his trip to Serbia with Jokić.

And, of course—Ćevapi and Baklava.

Han raised an eyebrow as he took in the spread. "You actually cooked?"

Jokić scoffed. "No. Natalija did."

Han smirked. "Figures."

Across the room, Anjali and Natalija were already deep in conversation. This wasn't polite small talk—it was easy, familiar. They had known each other for years, and it showed.

Han had no idea what they were talking about. And honestly? He wasn't about to ask.

Instead, he and Jokić did what they always did.

Ate. Talked. Reminisced.

At one point, Jokić leaned forward slightly, swirling his drink in his hand. His tone turned thoughtful.

"Luka's… special," he said.

Han raised an eyebrow. "Yeah?"

Jokić exhaled, a small smirk playing at his lips.

"He keeps telling me… 'Scoring in the NBA is easier than in Europe.'"

Han huffed, amusement flickering in his eyes.

Yeah.

That sounded like Luka Dončić alright.