Sam had slept most of the day in his and Agumon’s dormitory, too emotionally 
exhausted to do anything. He’d been up for only an hour when Agumon walked back 
inside, his head held low.
“Did you manage to find any information about my friends?” Sam asked.
“No,” Agumon confessed. “But the city guardians are out, so I don’t know what 
that means.”
“City guardians?” Sam repeated. “Is that like the police force?”
Agumon snorted. “Far from it. These guys take orders directly from His 
Excellency himself.” The title was obviously meant to mock the governor, Sam 
noticed, or it wouldn’t have had that much sarcasm in it. “As corrupt as the 
police are, the city guardians are even worse. They’re just fancy hitmen.”
“Wonderful,” Sam muttered. “Knowing my luck, they’re looking for me.”
“They were investigating the area where we found you,” Agumon admitted, and Sam 
couldn’t look any less happy about that prospect. “Don’t worry. We’ll find them. 
Asuramon’s got some good connections; he’ll be able to find some clues.”
As if on cue, the formidable Digimon unlocked the door and walked into the room. 
He tossed Sam a work apron, gloves, and a pair of goggles. At Sam’s confused 
look, he said, “After dinner, meet me in the Core. I’m going to teach you how to 
work the equipment.”
“Why?” Agumon questioned, voicing Sam’s exact thoughts.
“It’ll be too hard to keep him hidden from everyone. As long as he looks the 
part of an apprentice, nobody should ask any questions.” With that, he left, 
locking the door behind him.
Agumon looked at Sam with some measure of pity. “Welcome to the work force, 
Sam.”
Survival Diaries
By Akino Ame
Part of Lord Archive’s Diaries Universe. Used with permission.
Disclaimer: The characters and series of Digimon belong to Toei Entertainment 
and Akiyoshi Hongo, distributed by Disney.
Entry Four: “New World”
He was cold, he was damp, and he was frustrated at not knowing where his friends 
were, but Michael ignored it all and walked out onto the docks to meet Mermaimon 
as she swam in with part of the catch.
“Are you feeling any better?” she checked.
“Somewhat,” he answered. Then, looking at the net, he added, “That looks heavy. 
Do you need any help with that?”
“Honestly, and I don’t mean to sound rude or anything, but Digimon of my level 
are a lot stronger than human children,” she explained. She glanced at him, 
taking note of how lean and lacking in muscles he was. “And from the looks of 
it, you’re definitely not used to this kind of labor.”
“I want to help somehow, though,” he insisted. “It’s not right if I’m living off 
your generosity. I want to earn my keep.”
She hauled her net up and regarded him skeptically, but answered, “All right. I 
don’t agree, but we don’t exactly have the money to keep you around like this. 
Tomorrow morning, at dawn, you go with Betamon and the other smaller Digimon and 
help them with the fishing. We’ll just have to invent a cover story for you.”
He shrugged. “You guys said I looked like a Lucemon—whatever that is. Stick to 
that story.”
She nodded. “We’ll have to make a few things up, elaborate on it a little, 
explain your strange appearance, but it should work. Just wait back at the 
house. Betamon should be back by now, so you can let him know.” Michael nodded 
in reply and headed back, where Betamon was sulking and grumbling about someone 
named Frogmon.
“Damn Frogmon,” he muttered. “Always thinks he’s better than us just because he 
evolved. Thinks he can push me around.”
“Are you okay?” Michael checked.
“No,” Betamon answered curtly and returned to sulking.
“Betamon, I need to ask you something,” he said carefully. If he was going to 
win an argument with an irate Digimon, he was going to have to be extremely 
careful. “Can you take me to the docks later?”
Betamon, surprised out of his sulking, eyed Michael suspiciously. “Why?”
“I want to learn how to work the nets.”
Betamon never let up on his suspicious gaze. “Why?”
Michael sighed. So much for trying to be careful. He’d have to be direct. “I’m 
going out with you at dawn tomorrow so I can properly earn my keep here. I need 
to learn how to at least avoid tangling myself up in the nets when I haul in the 
catch.”
“Did Mermaimon put you up to this?” Betamon demanded. “She complains so much 
about money, but we’re not as bad off as she says.”
“I came up with the idea myself,” Michael explained. “And Mermaimon agreed. 
She’s right about the money. You are that bad off.”
“We survive.”
“Barely, by the looks of it,” Michael argued. “I come from a rich family, so my 
standards are a lot higher than yours are, but I know the difference between 
living comfortably and barely keeping yourself off the streets.” He gestured to 
the walls of the shack. “There’s no insulation here, and it’s damp. Granted, you 
and Mermaimon need the water and she at least needs a waterway to get in and 
out, but you’ve got to be freezing during winter time. If you get sick, you lose 
a day or more of work, and you’ve got to pay for the medicine. I saw Mermaimon 
worrying about how to pay for my medicine. I watched her counting those coins. I 
don’t know the currency, but I could tell that you didn’t have much. You’re at 
the end of your pay, and you can’t afford having me live off of you. Let me 
help.”
Pride was usually Betamon’s downfall, but he couldn’t deny anything that Michael 
was saying. Finally, he surrendered and replied, “All right. But I’m not taking 
your money—you use it for yourself.”
Michael nodded. “I’ll only use it to pay for room and board and whatever else I 
might need.”
“Anything else?”
“Yeah,” Michael answered, “now that you mention it. What can you tell me about 
the Digi-destined?”


Babamon and Gotsumon walked upstairs to the Digi-destined’s studio, where Steve 
sat on the floor, eating and sewing up Lou’s jacket. Maria was drawing, and Lou 
was finishing a piece of bread. Babamon went to Lou and felt around his injuries 
before handing him an herbal mixture, instructing, “Now that you’ve eaten, drink 
this. It will numb the pain and let you sleep tonight.” 
“Not yet,” Steve warned, setting down his needle. Lou and Maria looked at him. 
“Lou, I don’t want you falling asleep in the middle of this. We need answers.”
“Gotsumon, will you please fetch Gabumon and Patamon?” Babamon requested. 
“They’re Steve’s and Maria’s partners, so they need to get closer to them.”
“Partners?” Steve repeated, startled out of his authority.
“I’ll get them,” Gotsumon agreed, retreating downstairs.
“Yes,” Babamon replied to Steve’s question. “Each Digi-destined is partnered 
with a Digimon. Your partner is Gabumon, and Maria’s is Patamon.”
“What about mine?” Lou asked.
“Gotsumon,” she answered. “He’s a bit more reluctant, but he’ll come around 
eventually.”
The three Digimon returned, and the kids immediately focused their attention on 
them—their partners. Finally, Steve said, “We need to know everything.”
“Where do you want to start?” Gabumon asked.
Maria raised her hand. When they nodded at her, she asked, “What are 
Digi-destined?”
“They’re humans that come to the Digital World,” Patamon explained. “It’s their 
destiny to save it from evil. But since they can’t do it alone, Digimon are 
chosen to help them. So in a way, that makes us Digi-destined too.”
“Oh,” she answered.
“But that’s not all, is it?” Steve guessed. “Every group of Chosen Ones always 
has some abilities that separates them from any other person—it’s a constant. 
What makes us so special?”
“Digi-destined have the power to make their Digimon evolve,” Gabumon explained. 
“It’s for a short time, but it’s enough of a power boost for them to fight.”
“Evolution’s like what it is in human science, right?” Steve asked. Lou gave him 
a questioning look; this was not a subject covered in their strict Catholic 
school. “Even though my school doesn’t teach it, I studied it on my own. It’s 
the progression of a species to one better adapted for survival, right?”
“Pretty much the same,” Gabumon answered. “Evolution happens on its own in each 
Digimon—there are Digimon of all sorts of levels, mostly Adults and 
lower—throughout Tal Veras and the rest of the Digital World.”
“We have to kill, don’t we?” Lou questioned, still depressed and shell-shocked 
from the battle earlier. “Like Steve said, better them than us.”
“It’s not always that way,” Babamon assured. “If you can avoid it, you will. But 
when the stakes are too great, you will have to.” She placed a hand over his 
heart. “As long as it still hurts, it won’t kill your soul. You are fighting to 
stay alive and to save all you hold dear. If you don’t do this, your loved ones 
will suffer.” He nodded reluctantly.
“But since you’re an incomplete team, we need to keep you in hiding,” Gotsumon 
added. “Gabumon told us earlier that BlueMeramon noticed the city guardians were 
hunting you.”
“Vamdemon’s army?” Lou questioned. “What do they want with us?”
“He obviously sees you as a threat,” Gotsumon replied. “Until we find your 
missing friends and get strong enough to fight the city guardians, you have to 
keep a low profile. By working here, you’ll be able to earn enough money to 
live, but surviving this city is another story. We’ll protect you, and 
BlueMeramon will keep an eye out for us, but the rest is up to you.”
“Digi-destined teams traditionally have a leader,” Babamon informed. “Since the 
three of you are a team, who will lead you?”
“I pick Steve!” Maria cried.
“Same here,” Lou agreed. To Steve, he said, “You’re really the one who brought 
us all together, and you’ve always been leading Michael, Sam, and me in and out 
of trouble. I’m sure they’d say the same.”
“All right then,” Steve decided. “I guess I accept.”
“What do we do first, leader?” Maria asked.
“As your commanding officer, I decree that first, Lou drinks that disgusting 
pain medication then goes to sleep. You finish your coloring and I’ll finish his 
jacket, and then we’ll help the others with the shop. Sound good?”
Maria mock-saluted. “Yes, sir!”
Lou rolled his eyes. “I’m really going to regret picking you as leader, aren’t 
I?”
“Hey, I didn’t decree that you could complain like Sam,” Steve replied. “Now sit 
down and drink your tea!”
“Sir, yes sir,” Lou muttered in jest before choking down the herbal tea. “Going 
to bed now, sir. Any other orders, sir?”
“Yeah. Don’t snore!”


The heat was still as bad in the Core as it had been when Sam first found 
himself there, but Asuramon had given him a large flask of water to keep on his 
belt so he wouldn’t dehydrate. Thankfully, the flask was very well insulated, so 
each time he took a sip, the water was only fairly warm rather than boiling or 
evaporated. 
As for the work itself, it was difficult. Put into perspective, the Central Core 
was a giant heat-producing factory, and as such, it required a great deal of 
maintenance to keep it running. The controls were almost ridiculously 
complicated, and Sam had a hard time figuring out what controlled what and how 
he should operate it. Asuramon was a strict taskmaster, but he wasn’t harsh 
enough to put him to work at the more difficult positions. Sam’s job for now was 
to control the fire output through cranks and levers, only occasionally having 
to look over the flames. But it was still exhausting, and he returned to the 
dorm sweating and drained, feeling a whole new appreciation for life outside his 
comfort zone.
If Dad could see me now, he thought, walking into the dormitory.
“Worked you like hell, didn’t he?” Agumon guessed, and Sam weakly nodded. “The 
shower’s in the back if you need it.”
“Thanks. The water’s not too hot, is it?”
Agumon grinned slightly. “Too hot to handle back there?”
“No kidding,” Sam gasped. “I really need to cool off.”
Frankly not caring about modesty right now, he ripped off his clothes and went 
over to the shower, keeping it cold. He sighed in relief as the cool water hit 
his body, easily washing away the filth. Hearing this, Agumon commented, “You’re 
going to be feeling it in the morning.”
“I’m feeling it now,” Sam replied.
“Not used to working like this, eh?”
“No.” Sam suddenly couldn’t help but let a sardonic laugh escape him. “My dad 
always tells me to try to work, make something of myself. On vacations, he has 
me do random odd jobs whenever he can find them—mostly washing cars, since we 
live in the city and it’s hard to do some summer jobs kids have. He doesn’t even 
give me allowance at home—whatever money I earn from summer jobs or get for my 
birthday goes directly into a savings account. I don’t invite my friends over 
because I don’t have half the stuff they do. My mom tries to give me what she 
can, but my dad’s trying to convince her to only get me things that I’d need, 
like a new computer or something. All I just want to do is be a kid as long as I 
can.”
Agumon snorted. “Sounds kind of selfish to me. We don’t have that luxury here, 
and you definitely won’t either. Living here changes you, makes you feel a lot 
older than you are. And it’s not just in Tal Veras—all over the Digital World.”
Sam turned off the water, grabbed a towel, and walked out. “It sounds like 
you’re talking about other kids in the Digital World.”
“I am.”
Sam stared. “There were others? Where? When? Is there any way they can help me 
find my friends and get home?”
“Whoa, whoa!” Agumon answered, holding up his clawed hands to tell him to slow 
down. “Chances are that’s pretty unlikely. Legend has it they disappeared a long 
time ago.”
“What happened?” Sam asked, pulling his shirt back on.
“Like I said, it happened a long time ago. Five human children called 
Digi-destined were called here to defeat a great evil, but I guess they failed. 
After that, the Dark Masters came, and then Vamdemon took over the island. Every 
now and then a legend comes up about one of the kids appearing, but we’ve never 
seen any humans other than you around. Besides, if he was still around, he’d 
have continued fighting, don’t you think?”
“I guess,” Sam agreed. Then, mentally doing the math, he added, “But there were 
five of us too! Agumon, is it possible that my friends and I are Digi-destined 
too?”
“I don’t know,” he confessed. “The Digi-destined had this sort of talisman 
called a digivice. Asuramon looked you over and didn’t find anything like that 
on you.” It wasn’t the truth—not really. Asuramon had found something, but he 
wouldn’t tell Agumon what it was.
“Oh,” he replied. “I guess I got pulled here by accident then. That’s probably 
why that man brought me here. Or, I guess Digimon.”
“No, that guy wasn’t a Digimon,” Agumon explained. “He looks human, but he 
isn’t. He’s been around here for a while now, trying to help out. I don’t know 
why he brought you here, but I guess he realized that if Vamdemon thought you 
were a Digi-destined, there’d be trouble. That guy trusted Asuramon for some 
reason—I don’t know why; they’ve never really met.”
“Maybe Asuramon knew the Digi-destined somehow,” Sam suggested.
“I don’t know,” Agumon admitted. “Maybe. It would definitely explain why he 
doesn’t like me telling that story. Don’t let him know I told you or anything.”
“Don’t worry,” Sam replied. “If I’ve got to keep my own presence here a secret, 
it shouldn’t be too hard keeping that secret.”
“Heh,” Agumon laughed. “I think I’m going to like you.” Sam grinned before 
collapsing back on his bunk. “Yeah, you’ll want to sleep that off. We’re both 
going to have a big day tomorrow.”
“Fun,” he muttered.
“Sarcastic, eh? I’m definitely going to like you. Anyway, get some rest. I’ll 
sneak you some breakfast in the morning. Night”
“Night,” Sam answered, closing his eyes. As he drifted off to sleep, he thought 
over Agumon’s story and his own philosophy from home. Agumon had said he was 
selfish to think that way. Sam wanted to protest that, but he couldn’t. After 
hearing about the Digi-destined, who had given everything—possibly including 
their lives as well—to try to save a world that wasn’t theirs, he didn’t think 
he had the right to complain about not having a childhood.
Guess it’s time for me to grow up, he realized before sleep fully took him.


The next morning at dawn, Michael followed Betamon to the other fishers. Betamon 
didn’t bother introducing him because they agreed it would be better if he kept 
as low a profile as possible. 
“Just watch out for Frogmon,” Betamon whispered as they readied the nets. 
Michael followed Betamon’s line of sight to a yellow frog covered in leaf-like 
armor.
“Him?” he asked. Betamon nodded just as Frogmon turned a pointed glare their 
way. “I see what you mean.”
“He’s trouble, trust me,” Betamon said. “He used to be a friend until he 
evolved. Now he’s flaunting his level for everyone to see, bullies us Child 
Levels around. Whatever you do, don’t give him a reason to hate you.”
Michael shifted his gaze, but still felt Frogmon’s eyes against his back. 
“That’ll be easier said than done,” he muttered.