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From the Microcosmicon, 2:

The asteroid was barren, awhirr with inferior life. Not worth dominating, for him who had dominated the galaxy. Who had been the galaxy.

The ship’s doors puffed open.
“New body, new kingdom,” they snickered, forcing him out, but not noticing his hand.
He smiled. The ship left. With the laz-knife, he unbound his hands. And he stabbed himself.

They returned. But didn’t find him. Then, thin filaments shot out of the darkness, injecting him into their bodies. In time, others came looking for them. New recruits. New minds.
He had been the galaxy. He could start over as an asteroid.

MQS