The TW Network
King of Fighters: Maximum Impact Fighters
Fighter ID:
Blood Type
Hair Color
Red & White
146 lbs
The Devil of Daybreak
Soiree Meira (brother)
Playing billiards, driving
Fish dishes--sashimi grosses him out most.
Fighting Style(s)
Personal style of Chinese Boxing + Martial Arts
Personal Treasure(s)
A picture of his parents, his kid brother Soiree
Special Skill(s)
Able to memorize 8-digit numbers at a single glance

King of Fighters: Maximum Impact
Playstation 2
King of Fighters 2006, The / King of Fighters: Maximum Impact 2 (JPN)
Playstation 2
KOF Maximum Impact: Regulation A

King of Fighters III
Having lost their parents at the age of three, Alba and Soiree were placed in a German orphanage. Alba escaped on his 14th birthday and came to settle finally in Southtown where he met "King" Fate and made a name for himself under his tutelage.

After Fate died in a turf war with Mephistopheles, Alba avenged his death, defeated Mephistopheles, and subsequently became Southtown's new leader.

He now spends his days restoring order to Southtown with Soiree and their friends.
Soiree Meira
Characters are brother or sister to one another.
It was raining that day for sure.
It was almost as if he had an affinity for rain.
Nearby the rain-flecked window lay a cracked mirror, some Nietzsche, some Goethe, and a single white envelope--.
Alba smiles wryly as he runs a comb through his long locks.
"King"...huh? It seems I still lack the gravitas to be called that."
A lock of hair hangs down on his forehead. Alba flicks it back and puts on his sunglasses.
The sunglasses that Fate remarked on when he started wearing them as a kid have now become part of Alba's image.

"...Ooh, those look good on you. They make you look cooler."
"Do you think so?"
"Yup. No matter how hard you hurt, how lonely you are, or how pained you might be, you gotta stay cool. Never loose your cool.... If you remember that, you'll keep Soiree and the others secure and under your wing. A leader has to stay composed at all times."
"But your this towns leader, aren't you, Fate?"
"People just started calling me that before I knew what was going on. Actually, I'm not too good at dealing with pain and fear. I'd like to quit this stuff as soon as I can and leave it all to my young followers...So I'm hoping you'll make a name for yourself soon and let me spend a carefree retirement in Florida or someplace, OK, Alba?"
Are you listening Alba?

The door suddenly springs open to interrupt Alba's momentary recollections as a panicked voice accompanied by frantic footsteps fly into the room.
Noel and Gallagher...the two are the first "friends" Alba and Soiree met when they began to work for Fate.
"Is it true that you're going to enter, Alba?"
"Yup, who told you that?"
"Well, you know...but that's not important!"
Noel snaps and bangs the table. A half-empty bottle of schnapps on the table rings with the blow.
"You do understand your position now, Alba, don't you?"
"Yeah! You're the town's "King" now, aren't you? You leaving town at such an important time like this..."
Alba sighs, cutting off Gallaghers tirade.
"I've only lived half as long as Fate has. ...Don't you think it's a bit presumptuous of a punk kid like me to assume the title of 'King?'"
"It's not up to you to decide! It's what we think. It's what the people of this city think!"
"The one who drove out that damn "Mephistopheles" and that twit Duke was you and you alone, right? Then that seals your fate as the next 'King', right? This town needs a 'King!'
"That title is a bit heavy for someone of my age."
Alba gently flicks his hair back.
"...And the person who killed Fate is still alive. I can't become his successor until I avenge Fate's death."
Noel and Gallagher gulp at Alba's words. Not only for Alba, but for those from the slums like Noel and the gang, the title of "King" was something that could not be ignored.
"Also...I won't beat around the bush, but this next battle just may make a few things clear. I just have a feeling about that."
"Make a few things clear? ...Are you talking about your 'dream'?"
The dream, that recurring dream he's had so often...
The "dream" of a beautifully shining night sky with a multitude of stars that blot out the darkness. When did this strange dream mixed with a feeling of both alienation and nostalgia come to enter his deep slumber every night?
He cannot help but think that it was from the time he encountered that mysterious beauty.
"If it's that honey you're infatuated with, it seems she's no longer in this town."
Noel mutters to himself as if he's peered into the soul of the suddenly silent Alba.
"...Ever since you told us about her, you've made us turn this town upside down and we have only come up with squat. ...Or do you think somehow that babe will show up in the tournament?"
"Who knows? ...All that has nothing to do with it, though. I just want to be able to hold my head high when I stand before Fate's grave. And I also think this battle is vital to this town.
Taking a white letter with his red leather-gloved hands, Alba looks back at the two.
"...I'm leaving everything up to you while I'm gone. Help Soiree out and hold it together."
"We're telling you that's not going to happen, and that's why we're trying to stop you."
Noel the worrywart slaps his forehead and looks up at the ceiling. Gallagher shrugs exaggeratedly and a bitter smile breaks across his face.
"...And Soiree's disappeared a long time ago."
"He got one of those letters too. One of those KING OF FIGHTERS invitations."
Hearing this, Alba is dumbstruck for a moment, then smiles wryly again.
"...Come to think of it, he had been acting a little strange recently."
"Oh, well. You two have always operated in tandem ever since I can remember. You don't look like each other, but that trait alone is where you're identical."
"Just go and don't worry about things here. ...But just make sure you come back, huh? Our "King" is you and you alone, Alba."
"I got ya."
The three bang their firmly clenched fists together and Alba takes off.

The gloomy night continues to shed its warm tears. A clear sky has been absent for days.
"More light...was it? ...But I'm far from a Nietzschean mood."
Leaving his apartment without an umbrella, Alba jumps into his cherished car parked next to the garage, turns the key, and smiles at the trusty vibration that comes up through the seat. A feeling of reassuring excitement unfolds withing the man who always tries to be calm.
"I guess...I'm really beginning to enjoy this stuff."
His heart leaps at the battle that stands before him - but his sunglasses and poker face give no apparent clue of this to anyone - and Alba floors the accelerator of his muscle car.