levitation

A billiard ball hangs in midair. Tiny peas shoot at it from a blowgun. Each hit is barely perceptible, but if the ball is very light and barely trembles from heat, you can make out individual nudges. That's essentially the setup: a glass sphere the size of a bacterium levitates in a vacuum while a narrow beam of xenon atoms flies at it.

A magnetic top that doesn't fall. A tiny sphere of yttrium iron garnet hovers in midair, held by invisible forces. This isn't a magic trick but a Paul trap — an alternating magnetic field that rapidly changes direction and keeps the sphere from falling, like a juggler tossing balls. The sphere trembles but doesn't fall.

Two tiny diamonds float in a vacuum, separated by a distance that light cannot cross during the experiment. Inside each, like a frozen spark, resides an entangled spin — a quantum state linking them into a single whole. Now the diamonds begin to move, but not just any motion: each one seems to split, existing in two places at once.

A handful of pebbles drops into a pond: each one sends out ripples. If the pebbles are different, the ripples will be different too: some sharp, some smooth. But when you look at the water from a distance and see only a small part of the ripples, all those differences blur together.

A stone drops into a pond, and ripples spread across the water. In the same way, massive bodies generate gravitational waves, except it's space itself that ripples. So far, these waves have been caught by giant detectors that barely flinch as a wave passes through. But what happens on the microscopic scale, inside a tiny piece of matter?

The world around us is three-dimensional, but perhaps that's just an illusion. Some theories allow for extra dimensions of space, curled up or stretched in special ways. One such model depicts a five-dimensional universe with a "diluted" dimension (called a linear dilaton).

According to Einstein's general theory of relativity Albert Einstein, a massive rotating body drags the fabric of spacetime along with it, much like a spoon twirled in a jar sets thick honey flowing.

In the pitch darkness of a vacuum chamber, a tiny magnet floats. It touches no walls and loses almost no energy — an ideal sentinel, ready to catch the faintest nudge. Such a sentinel is exactly what you need for axion hunting. These particles are prime suspects in the case of the Universe's hidden mass, which we call dark matter.

In the quiet of a laboratory, a graphite flake hovers above a magnetic grid. This is not just a demo of diamagnetism's magic — it's listening to the Universe. Like a spider casting its web to catch vibrations from an invisible world, this flake has become a gravitational web.

A magnet the size of a grain of rice floats in a vacuum without touching the walls. It is held by the magnetic field of a superconducting trap — a ring cooled to a state where current flows without resistance.

In a dark room, a glass bead the size of a dust grain hangs on a laser beam. Beneath it are two mirrors: one aluminum, one silver. If axions (light, invisible particles that could make up the mysterious dark matter) whiz by, they exchange with the mirror atoms, and the bead shifts ever so slightly.

The Universe speaks two fundamental languages — gravity and light. Under normal conditions, they do not mix: gravitational waves glide through matter without a trace, while photons dance in mirror labyrinths.

A tiny ball weighing a fraction of a milligram, suspended in a magnetic field and cooled to near absolute zero, oscillates for 110 hours without stopping: this is record isolation. The energy loss is so small that the system's entropy barely increases, making any external influence noticeable.

A flashlight beam in a dark room can hold a dust mote almost still: that's how optical tweezers work. But light doesn't just push the particle; it also jostles it with random kicks. Each absorbed photon strikes it like an invisible hammer. The authors of the new study have devised a light trap of a special shape.

A stone falls into a pond, and ripples spread in all directions. In much the same way, a massive body creates ripples in spacetime. Only it's not water that oscillates, but the very fabric of reality, and instead of circles, there are gravitational waves.

A tiny superconductor, levitating above a magnet, is like a cork on the surface of an invisible ocean. The slightest breath of dark matter makes it shudder. Scientists examined two kinds of such 'wind'. The first – gravitational waves, which stretch and squeeze space itself, like ripples on the fabric of the cosmos.

A tiny diamond hangs in the air, held by an electric field like a speck of dust in a beam of light. Hidden inside are defects — places where a carbon atom is replaced by nitrogen, with a vacancy nearby. These defects behave like little magnets that can be flipped with laser and microwaves.

On a lab bench sits a laser trap — an invisible hand that holds a glass bead the size of a bacterium in midair. Next to it is a mirrored cavity where light bounces between two reflective walls. Scientists made the bead and the light exchange quantum entanglement: their states are now linked so that measuring one instantly reveals the other.

A tiny diamond, smaller than a dust speck, hovers inside a magnetic trap made of microchips. Inside the crystal is a single defect acting as a beacon. Scientists coax the diamond into being in two places at once, like a magician’s ball that honestly rests under two cups. This isn't just a trick.

Dark matter is five times more massive than ordinary matter, yet it emits no light. Its nature remains unknown. One candidate is the ultra-light axion particle. Axions could pierce right through the planet, barely noticing atoms.

The space between two closely spaced surfaces is far from empty: it's a seething "quantum glue." Within it, quantum fluctuations continuously pop in and out of existence: microscopic bursts of energy in electromagnetic fields that, according to quantum theory, give the vacuum a dynamic structure.

In 2022, physicists observed gravity shifting the phase of a single atom's wave, the gravitational analog of the Aharonov–Bohm effect. This experiment became part of a long-standing debate: whether gravity must be quantized or remains a classical background in the quantum world.

A silicon sphere 166 nanometers in diameter floats in a beam of infrared laser light. The pressure is below 10⁻⁸ mbar, and the motional temperature is about 10 millikelvin. That is colder than the cosmic microwave background.