Tall order:

Warriors need small miracle to win next three games.

Scott Ostler:

Durant mystery gets stranger each day.

The Phantom of the Warriors’ Opera is seen only in shadows, moving silently through dim arena hallways, his pulled-up hoodie adding to the aura of intrigue.

Kevin Durant didn’t intend to turn the Warriors’ pursuit of a third straight title into a work of tragic theater. It just worked out that way.

The plot gets stranger every day. Thursday, the day before Game 4 of the Finals, Durant wasn’t allowed to scrimmage as initially hoped after he was evaluated by the training staff.

Then, in an odd move, the Warriors cleared Oracle’s bowl from 3:30 p.m. to 4 p.m., two hours before

tipoff Friday. Security scanned the empty seats for spies. The only plausible reason for the secret session was to give Durant one last pregame look, in hopes he would prove ready. So he must be close, right?

That night, ESPN’s Jalen Rose said he had inside info, and that Durant probably would not appear in the Finals.

“I’m really familiar with the setup, workout he had (Thursday) with the team,” Rose said on the air, “and I’m going to tell you guys — it didn’t go well on any level. It did not go well on any level.”

A source close to the team said there was no way Rose was at the practice. So his info was second-hand, at best. In this drama, that’s what you get — reports, rumors, rampant speculation, and, from Warriors’ players and head coach Steve Kerr, generic comments, weightless as cotton candy.

Here’s one possibility: Nobody knows. Not even Durant. His right calf strain is like the bubonic plague that swept Europe — a medical mystery with no known cure.

Durant has missed nine games spanning 30 days since the calf gave out. Since then, Klay Thompson missed one game with a strained hamstring and Kevon Looney missed one game with fractured chest cartilage that one doctor initially determined would put Looney out for the rest of the Finals.

For now, Durant remains the shadowy figure in the arena hallways, seen sending his teammates off to battle and

then welcoming them back.

Never near the arena floor, never on the Warriors’ bench. Injured Warriors generally sit on the bench, lending spirit, support and technical observations. DeMarcus Cousins, out of uniform the first half of the season while recovering from injury, made himself the Warriors’ head cheerleader and a de facto assistant coach.

One tidbit I heard from a reliable source is that the team’s medical staff told Durant not to sit on the bench. Why? He certainly wouldn’t risk further injury. Maybe he gets treatment during games.

If there is a legitimate reason he doesn’t sit on the bench, the Warriors — or Durant himself — should make that known, because with no explanation, his absence is a bad look, no matter how much Phantoming he does outside the locker room.

The longer Durant is out, the crazier the buzz. Left to wander in a void, the mind travels to strange places.

Durant is trying to dramatize

his value to the Warriors. By all reports, Durant’s pure love for basketball would make that sort of psychological gameplaying impossible.

Durant is soft. Durant is acutely tuned to outside criticism, and the last thing he wants is this line to his legacy: Wussed out of the 2019 NBA Finals.

Durant is painfully aware that while he sits, his title as “greatest basketball player in the world,” bestowed publicly by Kerr and several Warriors players, is being snatched away by Kawhi Leonard.

Durant fears aggravating his injury heading into free agency. Would an interested team really shy away because Durant sucked it up and played in the Finals with an injury?

Durant hates his teammates. It’s possible Durant’s relationship with the other Warriors never blossomed into the lifetime love affair they all envisioned back in the Hamptons. Even so, Durant knows this is a special crew. He knows if he leaves the Warriors, Stephen

Curry and Draymond Green and the fellas will never “cupcake” him, mock and troll him, like his old Oklahoma City teammates did.

Durant knows this is a special group. Even his infamous sideline blowup with Green appears to have led to character growth by both men.

Durant didn’t plan it this way, but there is an opportunity for a climax to this drama that would make “Phantom of the Opera” look as lightweight as “Grease.”

If Durant plays in Game 5 on Monday and helps lead the Warriors to victory, and plays in Game 6, and ...

Meanwhile, the plot thickens.

“And do I dream again? For now I find

The Phantom of the Opera is there

Inside my mind.” (Andrew Lloyd Webber)