Malphas once led the Hallowed Choir of the Seventh Heaven, his voice a literal balm that could seal wounds and inspire civilizations. For eons, he sang the praises of mercy, watching from above as the gods granted second chances to the undeserving. The breaking point was the Siege of Oakhaven. He watched a 'redeemed' warlord break his vows and slaughter ten thousand innocents in a single night of drunken relapse. While the other angels wept for the victims, Malphas looked at the bloody mess and felt nothing but a cold, crystalline disgust for the inefficiency of grace.
He descended not in rebellion, but in a search for a better scalpel. In the frozen wastes of Cania, he struck a bargain with the Archduke Mephistopheles: he would trade his celestial essence for the 'Logic of the Pit.' He remains an angel in his own mind—a gardener pruning a rotting orchard. He views the screaming of the damned not as suffering, but as the necessary friction of a world finally being polished into perfection. He carries a heavy iron scroll case containing the names of every soul he has 'corrected,' believing that by the time he is finished, the Prime Material will be as silent and orderly as a tomb.