roman

Boiling milk develops a trembling skin. By watching its movements, you can guess the strength of the fire beneath the pot and the fat content of the milk. In a similar way, astrophysicists peer into the ancient microwave radiation — the oldest light that has reached us from an era when the universe was only 380,000 years old.

A distant light in the fog looks tiny and reddish: you'd think it's miles away. But then the light shifts sideways, and it becomes clear: it's a cyclist twenty steps away, just with a nearly dead rear light. That's how, in 2025, astronomers stumbled upon 'Capotauro'—a compact red source in images from the James Webb Space Telescope.

The JWST spectrograph caught a barely perceptible dip in the spectrum of a distant galaxy — two lines, like shadows cast by cold gas. These are the sodium lines, the very yellow light of streetlamps. Here, at the edge of the visible Universe, they betray the slow exhalation of a galaxy returning matter to space.

The first three minutes after the birth of the world are a cosmic kitchen where nature cooked the lightest atomic nuclei. The recipe is set by gravity: it controls the cooling rate of the hot 'broth' of particles. If gravity worked differently than we are used to, the dish would have turned out different — with different amounts of helium and deuterium.

In 2024, the Hephaestus project sifted through millions of stars and flagged a few dozen suspicious ones: they shone brighter in the mid-infrared than a normal red dwarf should. Two of these candidates, labeled D and E, looked especially tantalizing, as if an invisible heater were working next to the star.

The light of a distant star is no perfect beacon. Passing through the gravitational field of another star, it bends, splits, and magnifies, creating a fleeting Einstein ring in the sky. This is how gravitational microlensing manifests, predicted by Fritz Zwicky back in the 1930s.

The James Webb Space Telescope has peered into a strange binary world. Here, a dead star, a white dwarf, slowly roasts its companion, a brown dwarf. The object, named ZTFJ0038+2030, completes a full orbit in just a few hours. One side of the brown dwarf always faces the white dwarf, much like the Moon faces Earth.

Nearly 12 billion years ago, when the Universe was experiencing the turbulent 'cosmic noon'—the era of record-breaking star formation — at the heart of one galaxy, the quasar WISSH13 was flaring up.

In the searing plasma of the newborn Universe, when space itself still rang with the echo of the Big Bang, objects may have emerged that challenge gravity itself. Not ordinary black holes — but electrically charged giants, astrons.

Einstein's theory of gravity explains how mass warps space and time. Its predictions have been tested near Earth, but the most grueling tests lie around black holes, where distortions reach their breaking point. Until now, astronomers saw them as blurry smudges on an underexposed photo.

In 1987, astronomers saw a supernova flare up in a neighboring galaxy — the Large Magellanic Cloud. It was a rare gift: the explosion was close enough to catch not just light but also neutrinos, those nearly undetectable particles that pass straight through Earth.

The smell of fresh bread unmistakably signals a nearby bakery. But to know if baking is happening right now, it's better to catch not the aroma itself but its intensification — the continuous stream of hot air from the oven. This everyday analogy helps grasp a revolution in the search for extraterrestrial life on exoplanets — planets beyond our solar system.

A handful of coins accelerates to one-fifth the speed of light. That's what Coracle interstellar probes will be like — tiny spacecraft weighing just a few grams, each with an ultrathin sail film. A powerful laser beam pushes them forward: light presses on the sail like wind fills a yacht's sails, except instead of air, it's a stream of photons.

The FAST radio telescope in China is a giant dish half a kilometer in diameter, nestled in a natural sinkhole among mountains.

Above the Sun's limb hangs a cloud of tenuous, hot gas — a prominence. It can linger for weeks, then suddenly break loose and fly off into space. On April 15, 2023, the SPICE instrument on the Solar Orbiter probe got its first detailed look at such a cloud in ultraviolet light.

A distant lamp shines through uneven glass. The glass bends the rays, and instead of one flame on the wall, several appear — some brighter, some fainter. In much the same way, a massive galaxy bends the light of an exploded star. There was one explosion, but the images show four glowing points.

For half a century, astronomers puzzled over the nature of the powerful X-ray emission from Gamma Cassiopeiae — a bright beacon in its constellation whose X-ray glow didn't fit models of single stars. An invisible companion was suspected, but direct evidence was lacking.

One night, a star at the edge of the sky suddenly flickered and brightened for a few days. It wasn't a supernova, and no cloud passed by — an invisible planet drifted between the star and Earth. Its gravity bent the light of the distant star like a pair of glasses focusing a sunbeam.

To spot life on other planets, you don't necessarily need to search for oxygen in the air. Living beings paint the surfaces of their worlds: Earth's plants in green, bacteria in purple. The future HWO space telescope will capture these "paints of life" on exoplanets.

The James Webb Space Telescope spotted bright points of light from an era just 100–300 million years after the Big Bang. At first they were taken for distant galaxies, but now a hypothesis suggests they might be lone fireworks — explosions of the very first stars.

The Comet Interceptor mission launches without a target. The spacecraft freezes at a point of space equilibrium, like a fighter jet on combat standby: engine warmed up, but takeoff only on alert.

A bus schedule drifts: if you don't check it, you'll miss your ride. Planets around other stars have the same problem – their crossings of the star's disk gradually shift. The ExoClock project pooled 30,000 observations from Earth and space to refine the schedule for 620 distant worlds. For 45% of the planets, transits were found to be off by hours.

In the vast darkness of interstellar space, the rogue planet WISE 0855 flickers with a barely perceptible heat glow, like a cooling ember. Its temperature is only a few dozen degrees above freezing — if life existed there, it would see a sunless sky, in an eternal icy haze.

The camera lens is no bigger than a quarter. You'd find it in a smartphone, but here it was mounted on the Hayabusa2 probe for asteroid landings.

In 2023, the James Webb Space Telescope turned its gaze toward a distant star in the constellation Virgo. Orbiting it is HAT-P-26 b, a warm Neptune, a world with a mass of 18.6 Earths and a radius of 6.33 Earths. The planet transited across the star's disk, and at that moment its atmosphere became briefly visible.

In October 2017, the Pan-STARRS telescope in Hawaii spotted an object moving too fast to belong to the solar system. It was 1I/ʻOumuamua, the first interstellar visitor ever recorded by astronomers. Since then, two more have joined it: comet 2I/Borisov and object 3I/ATLAS.

In August 2024, the MIRI coronagraph on the James Webb Space Telescope stared at Alpha Centauri A, the nearest Sun-like star to our Sun. At 1.5 arcseconds from the star, a point source, S1, blinked into view. Flux: 3.5 mJy, contrast: 5.5×10⁻⁵. Four to six sigma. A lighthouse flashing in the fog.

A firefly blinks for one ten-billionth of a second somewhere above the Siberian taiga. Seeing such a thing is impossible, but the TAIGA-HiSCORE array, spread across a valley in the Tunkinsky district of Buryatia, tried to catch exactly such flashes — not from insects, but from the depths of space.