Lyra sat in the front seat of the van, where she had a good view of what Philadelphia had become. The sky had turned a sickly green color and was splotched with low-lying pink clouds. They drove through what had been a small neighborhood, though the line of driveways led to empty lots. At the end of the street was a tower made up of all those houses, now stacked haphazardly on top of one another. As they passed the main city, they could see entire blocks had floated up into the air and become islands.