Adamastor Automotive has revealed the Furia, which is what happens when a small Portuguese company looks at the Aston Martin Valkyrie and decides the world probably needs another completely impractical, aero-led carbon missile with exposed suspension and the sort of bodywork that appears to have been attacked with industrial vacuum cleaners.
And honestly, fair enough.
The hypercar market now exists in this strange parallel universe where every new manufacturer arrives claiming Formula 1 levels of downforce, Nürburgring ambitions and a revolutionary drivetrain that will apparently alter the course of automotive history. Adamastor has skipped most of that nonsense and instead stuffed a tuned Ford GT engine into a very aggressive carbon tub. There’s something refreshingly straightforward about that.
Visually, the Valkyrie influence is impossible to miss. The front end has the same pinched, almost hollow appearance, with giant channels carved through the bodywork and headlights that seem to have been added as an afterthought to satisfy regulations. From some angles it looks less like a road car and more like an LMP racer somebody accidentally fitted with number plates.
The rear is equally mad.
Massive diffuser. Tiny cockpit. Huge open spaces underneath the bodywork. You look at it and immediately start wondering how unpleasant it might be over speed bumps, which is usually a good sign with cars like this. Hypercars should feel faintly ridiculous. If they look sensible, somebody’s done it wrong.
Unlike the Valkyrie, though, the Furia doesn’t have a naturally aspirated V12 screaming behind your head at 11,000 rpm. Instead there’s Ford’s 3.5-litre twin-turbocharged EcoBoost V6, the same basic engine architecture used in the GT. In this application it makes 650hp and 571Nm of torque, which initially sounds a bit conservative given modern hypercar numbers have become completely detached from reality.
Then you notice the weight figure.
Adamastor claims 1,050kg dry. If that’s remotely accurate, this thing should feel seriously quick. You don’t actually need 1,800 horsepower and four electric motors if the car itself weighs about the same as a family hatchback from 1998.
There’s also a sequential gearbox driving the rear wheels only, which immediately improves the mood. So many modern fast cars feel obsessed with making speed accessible to everybody. Endless traction systems, torque vectoring, active differentials and software layers quietly tidying things up underneath you. The Furia sounds far more old-school in its philosophy. Lots of downforce, lots of power, rear-wheel drive and presumably absolutely no interest whatsoever in your personal comfort.
I suspect it’ll either feel sensational or try to kill you under boost on cold tyres. Possibly both within the same corner.
Adamastor says the road-legal version will hit 100 km/h in around 3.5 seconds and continue to 300 km/h. Those figures almost don’t matter anymore because every fast car now claims some variation of “three seconds to 100 and very fast after that.” What matters more is how a car arrives at those numbers.
This one sounds intense.
The company claims nearly 1,800kg of downforce at 250 km/h in track specification, which is an absurd amount for something originating from a manufacturer most people had never heard of until recently. Still, Portimão probably makes sense as a development circuit because the place naturally exposes bad chassis tuning. Fast crests, heavy braking zones, awkward compressions. If a car behaves itself there, it usually means somebody knew what they were doing.
And underneath all the hypercar theatre, the Furia’s hardware does sound serious. AP Racing brakes. Adjustable double-wishbone suspension. Carbon monocoque. The fundamentals appear correct, even if the styling occasionally feels like somebody left a Valkyrie alone in a room with a Praga Bohema and told them to produce offspring.
The engine choice will annoy some people because hypercars have become strangely tied to emotional expectations. Buyers spending this sort of money tend to want something bespoke and exotic. A Cosworth V12. A handmade hybrid system from Scandinavia. An engine assembled by mystical craftsmen somewhere near Modena. Saying your €1.6 million hypercar uses a Ford-derived V6 doesn’t quite ignite the imagination in the same way.
Except the Ford motor is actually rather good.
Compact, durable and capable of serious power without immediately scattering itself across the nearest racetrack. The original GT already proved that the engine could survive sustained abuse while delivering genuinely savage performance. And there’s probably an argument that hypercars should spend less time chasing mechanical purity and more time focusing on weight, aerodynamics and chassis balance.
Besides, most owners will spend more time discussing the downforce figures over espresso than actually exploring the limits of the thing.
The asking price lands at €1.6 million before VAT, which means the final number becomes deeply unpleasant depending on where you live. Still, that’s just the reality of hypercars now. Every new arrival costs roughly the same as a nice mansion and promises lap times capable of rearranging your internal organs.
And somewhere in Portugal, a small company has decided it belongs in that conversation.
