Explosions in a Syrian government redoubt on Wednesday stirred sudden hope that the country's long agony may finally be ending. The blasts, at the headquarters of President Bashar Al Assad's national security council, killed three of his cabinet-level security chiefs and wounded others.
Yet even before the smoke settled, rumours were in the air. Those stories are still being sorted out, but it was clear at once that while Mr Al Assad has taken a severe blow, not only in personnel but also in the morale of his supporters, Syria's crisis will continue.
According to the Syrian Observatory for Human Rights, which is based in London, over 100 civilians were killed in the bombing's aftermath, proving that for the time being at least, pro-Assad forces retain an ability to exact retribution. Yesterday, the military gave civilians of several embattled districts in Damascus 48 hours to get out. Clearly Mr Al Assad's forces have not collapsed just yet. They may endure for some time still.
Farther away from the shelling and shooting, meanwhile, Wednesday's news cast a sudden spotlight on concerns, new and old, about both the immediate situation and what will happen when real change does come.
Government troops were reportedly moving chemical weapons, either to deploy them or to protect them from capture. Israel was reportedly considering a raid to destroy those stockpiles, to keep them out of terrorist hands - perhaps the only imaginable event that could weaken Syrian resolve to be rid of Mr Al Assad.
South of the border, Jordan's King Abdullah warned of an Al Qaeda presence in Syria and all but dismissed the sterile but ceaseless diplomatic minuet at the United Nations. Like Syria's other neighbours, the king is worried about malign forces that may be unleashed by the collapse of order, and spill over Syria's borders (along with a potential flood of refugees). Rightly so: the bombing was claimed by the Free Syrian Army but also by an Islamist group, Liwa Al Islam, raising further uncertainty about the make-up and allegiance of anti-Assad fighters. The opposition will use the weapons it has, but such tactics - deployed by the wrong forces for the wrong reasons - will become destabilising.
The news from Syria is, of course, not the only point of crisis in the region. Israel did not bother to wait for evidence yesterday to blame Iran for a bus bomb that killed at least five Israelis in Bulgaria. Losing Mr Al Assad would be a real blow to Iran - and to Hizbollah in Lebanon - and the regional effects of a change in Syria are not fully calculable.
But plainly Syrian stability, post-Assad, will have repercussions for the entire region. What if he and his inner circle flee the country abruptly? There has been talk that Mr Al Assad, a member of the Alawite minority, may contrive to use his armed forces to retain control of an Alawite enclave in the country's north-west.
But who would take over the rest of the country? Kurds have their own regional aspirations. The Free Syrian Army, while evidently credible militarily, has no clear political agenda. The opposition outside Syria is pathetically divided.
Foreign friends of Syria could provide not only access to cash and humanitarian aide but also a calming influence - to prevent, for example, bloody revenge against the whole Alawite population. So far Russia's support for Mr Al Assad has bedevilled a diplomatic solution. But without a functional contact group within Syria, foreign efforts to help, even from the Arab states, cannot be fully effective.
Most of Syria's 23 million people will rejoice in the fall of the tyrant, whenever it comes. But the goodwill of the rest of the world will not solve the pressing problems of the new dawn. The Arab states, and Syria's other friends, urgently need credible Syrian partners.
