Night had fallen over Douma’s temple. Crimson light from the lanterns bled across the shrine, a sharp contrast to the deep navy of the sky above. Outside, lotus flowers stirred gently upon the wide pond, blooming like pale flames in a garden of death. Inside, Douma sat at the heart of a vast chamber, where narrow wooden walkways wound gracefully between still pools of water, their surfaces mirroring the glow of the lamps.